Friday, 13 May 2022

Beyond The Breakthrough

Modernism or Anti-Modernism?

 

To plunge into the depths of the Abyss, to Heaven or Hell, who cares? To the bottom of the Unknown in order to find something new! – Baudelaire, 1859

 

That evocative phrase ‘the modern breakthrough’ is attributed to Scandinavian controversialist critic and exponent of cultural radicalism, Georg Brandes. Like all such tectonic shifts, however slight, the Modern Breakthrough was – and still is – somewhat divisive; expect a backlash of stereotypical reactions: panics, outrages and counter-movements. For some time it has been clear that one focus of reaction to Modernism and Modernity is the interrelationship between technology, the mass media and the arts. The period 1870-1914 is often considered the era of the Second Industrial Revolution: a time that saw the introduction of electric power, light bulbs, the telephone, aviation and the motor car, not to mention an incipient leisure class, mass circulation journalism, advertising, the beginnings of conspicuous consumption and celebrity culture.

It is self-evident that our contemporary, secularised mass media – especially media based on visual images –is inseparable from various forms of recording technology. Yet such technologies and cultural innovations find their origins in the pre-history of Modernity. One must agree with Walter Benjamin that it was the nineteenth century diorama ‘which signalled a revolution in the relationship of art to technology’. Here we can discern the first signs of an emergent historical phenomenon that, by the 1950s, would overthrow age-old aesthetic standards and compromise, or, at least, complicate, more recent ideas of ‘revolutionary’ or avant-garde Modern Art.

If the formative era of mass media reached its zenith in 1905 with the opening of the Pittsburgh Nickelodeon, subsequent waves of development have proved equally momentous. Fears about the insidious manipulative power of entertainment and advertising raised by Cultural Marxists like Adorno and Horkheimer in Dialectic of Enlightenment (1947), or by more popular social commentators such as Vance Packard in The Hidden Persuaders (1957) or Christopher Booker in The Neophiliacs (1969) have been further amplified in more recent times.

 Although the shared social concerns of both Cultural Marxists and anti-modernist Cultural Conservatives resurfaced in the mid-1970s, as can be seen by the popularity of such ‘explosive’ best-sellers as The Culture of Narcissism (1979) by historian Christopher Lasch, these worries have been heightened even further since the 1980s. This is mainly caused by the emergence of global ICTs (Information and Communications Technologies: the Internet, electronic financial markets that function beyond the control of the state and so forth) and associated methodologies such as Hypertext, invented in 1965 by computer scientist Ted Nelson who also coined the term ‘Hypermedia’. Anti-modernists find the Internet particularly threatening because, for the time being at least, its global reach, speed of access and decentralised architecture denies the possibility of assimilation into traditional power structures, hence the recurring outbursts of moral panic associated with access to harmful, deviant or subversive content and paranoid fears about the perceived deleterious effects of Social Media. For disciples of Lasch and others the socio-cultural effects of global hyper-technology have amplified perennial conservative fears centred on the quasi-mythical theme of ‘lost innocence’; often defined as a continuing and specifically modern degradation of ‘spontaneous feeling’ and other emotive idealisations beloved of moral vigilantes.

The evolutionary processes of cultural change are rendered complex by infinite socio-economic variations and geographic factors. Such complexity can cause cultural ‘time lag’ and related temporal phenomena such as resurgences or revivals. For instance, due to the politics of the era, French Romanticism found acceptance in its home country much later than German or English. While the ‘Neo-Classicism’ of the eighteenth century is perceived as a revivalist phenomenon, it will be seen that, in the later part of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century there were periodic revivals of ‘Neo-Romanticism’, in various guises, including forms of ‘Gothic’ which can be interpreted as the dark side of the Romantic movement. It has been argued that Modernism itself is, in essence, an extension of the Romantic impulse – an impulse viewed as intrinsic to the human condition.

Again, for obscure reasons, cultural tendencies can reach high points of ‘intensity’ or peak moments of heightened activity that may vary depending upon locale. The period in Europe between, say 1890 and 1914 may, for many, epitomise the apogee of ultra-Modernism. This was an era when all art forms and genres appeared to exhibit an inter-related set of crucial developments and continuities: Cubism, Futurism, ‘pure architecture’, ‘open field’ poetry, the interior monologue, Expressionist theatre, vers libre, Atonal Music, the Free Dance and Expressionist dance innovations of  Loie Fuller, Ruth St Denis, Isadora Duncan, Mary Wigman and Rudolf von Laban. To some observers it appeared that there was a clear trajectory of innovation from Canova’s ‘Three Graces’ (1817) via Manet’s ‘Olympia’ (1863) to Picasso’s ‘Les Demoiselles d'Avignon’ (1907). Having reached this evolutionary apex all subsequent developments must be characterised by a sense of diminution or of failing momentum. From such a ‘high point’ there is nowhere to go but down: Modernism, or the avant-garde inflexion of the Modernist trend, entered a long, slow, if irregular, fade-out due to natural dissipation of energy and loss of motive power.

However there is an apocalyptic slant to much talk about ‘the modern world’ and Modern Art. This ensures that almost any ‘era’ can be defined as an age of crisis, an ‘age of anxiety’, a time of the absolutely different, or an Age of the New (the New Novel, the New Drama, the New Woman) separated from the past by a vertiginous abyss. Perhaps, between the ‘Three Graces’ and ‘Les Demoiselles d'Avignon’, there is no connecting thread of continuous development at all. Perhaps the difference between the two works reveals an unbridgeable gulf in sensibility – a disconcerting black hole in the fabric of ‘culture’, one of those ‘unexpected solutions of continuity’ identified by Joseph Conrad in his prescient terrorist novel The Secret Agent (1907). Perhaps it might be the case that an underlying indeterminacy ensures that both possibilities are viable, depending upon the analytical perspective of the observer.

Roland Barthes isolated the mid-nineteenth century as the moment when a distinctively ‘modern’ tendency arose in European culture. In literature he notes a qualitative difference between the literary style (ecriture) of Balzac and that of Flaubert whose novel Madame Bovary caused controversy in 1857. For Barthes this transition in French literature from Balzac to Flaubert represents a Conradian sudden hole in space and time, une rupture essentielle. For art historians the transition from Romanticism to Realism in the works of Courbet and the theories of Champfleury may mark a similar rupture or divide in the fabric of cultural life.

Different chronological profiles can be ascribed to the historical phenomenon of Modernity.

It has been said that both the Impressionists and the Post-Impressionists are the true initiators of ‘the New’ in art. In the 1850s the caricaturist and photographer Nadar launched his Pantheon-Nader portraits of celebrated contemporaries thus, for some commentators, inaugurating a new style of celebrity culture. Nadar was also a pioneer of aerial photography. For Georg Brandes, as for Andre Breton, the point of departure, or the ‘modern breakthrough’ occurred in the 1870s, the period of the Franco-Prussian War and the heyday of the actress Sarah (the ‘divine Sarah’) Bernhardt, one of the first ‘modern’ celebrities. In 1873 it was Rimbaud who wrote in A Season in Hell that ‘one must be absolutely modern’.

Alternatively, for Victorian sage John Ruskin (Modern Painters, 1843) the authentic voice of Modernity in painting was that of Turner, a master of turbulent atmosphere, a pioneer of English Romanticism, while, for other critics ‘La Musique aux Tuileries’ (1862) by Manet may count as the first ‘truly modern’ painting because of a sense of detachment which appeared to one commentator (Sandblad) to exemplify the urban ‘realism of the flaneur’. The image also included a portrait of Baudelaire among the crowd signifying how Manet, along with Guys, quickly came to embody ‘the painter of modern life’ as expounded in the poet’s aesthetic theories.  

For historians of the theatre the modern era began with Ibsen’s plays A Doll’s House (1879) and Ghosts (1880). For cultural historian Roger Shattuck the modern era began with the death of Victor Hugo in 1885, and was actualised during la Belle Époque, between 1890 and 1914. For Shattuck the pre-eminent symbol of Modernism was the Eiffel Tower (1889) whereas, for Jacques Barzun, writing in 1943, Modernity in ‘the contemporary sense’ dated from the Armistice of 1918. For other cultural historians the high watermark of ‘the modern’ is the Roaring Twenties, the Jazz Age of Art Deco symbolised by the triumph of the moderne style at the 1925 Paris Exposition Internationale des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Moderne.

But, by 1960, or so Barzun claimed, the term ‘Modernism’ was beginning to sound rather archaic; it was ‘beginning to acquire the tone of the past’. It is certainly the case that some emerging features of ‘postmodernism’, or Post-Modernism, can be found in both the mainstream culture and the ‘counter-culture’ of the Sixties, even though its roots can be traced back at least as far as the Cabaret Voltaire (1916). Historian Arnold Toynbee, writing in the late thirties, dated the ‘Post Modern Age’ from the schism or cultural rupture of the First World War.

It was the 1850s that saw not only the rise of Realism in both literature and painting, but also a new ‘heroism of modern life’.

This vision of ‘the new’ was exemplified both by the aesthetics and poetry of Charles Baudelaire (Les Fleurs du Mal, 1857) and by the first stirrings of modern architecture in the prefabricated glass and steel of Joseph Paxton’s Crystal Palace (1851) famously derided by anti-modernist Dostoyevsky in his Notes From Underground (1864) and elsewhere as a pagan totem (the god Baal) of bourgeois materialism. It is, perhaps fitting that one of the most sensational scientific publications of the modern age, Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, appeared in 1859 at the close of this mid-century watershed decade. Like the writings of Darwin, works by Flaubert, Courbet and Baudelaire attracted that particularly modern phenomenon – the cultural, literary or artistic scandal. It may be that the essential rupture in the edifice of ‘culture’ apparently caused by such ‘radical’ images as The Funeral at Ornans (by Courbet, 1850), or by such ‘scandalous’ poetical works as Les Fleurs du Mal or architectural outrages such as Crystal Palace helps to create a climate of moral panic. A climate that is still with us, as may be judged from the hysterical media ‘outcry’ against plays like Sarah Kane’s brutalist  ‘in yer face’ drama Blasted (1995), or the synthetic ‘fury’ directed at films such as Cronenberg’s Crash (1996). Of course this is nothing new. In the modern world, the intellectual, or the artist, or the entertainer or the subcultural outsider, may soon become a folk-devil; back in 1937 Duke Ellington found it necessary to defend ‘hot’ jazz against the accusation that it incited sex crimes among the young, while guardians of propriety railed against the salacious implications of the Shimmy or Little Egypt’s Hootchie-Kootchie.

It is also typical of this ethos of manufactured scandal that a defender of The New may, in time, become an opponent of innovation – such was the career path of John Ruskin.

Ruskin, who championed Turner in the 1840s, attacked Whistler’s Nocturne: Black and Gold – The Falling Rocket (1875) in 1877, much to his discredit – as readers of Whistler’s The Gentle Art of Making Enemies (1890) will no doubt agree. In an instance of Jungian enantiodroma, a champion of the ‘modern’ was transformed into a reactionary anti-modernist, who, insofar as he was unable to appreciate the new aesthetics of Impressionism or Whistler’s semi-symbolist, proto-impressionist, semi-abstractionist technique, soon appeared ridiculously ‘Victorian’ and ‘out of touch’. On the other hand Whistler’s notion that ‘painting was the poetry of sight’ and that subject matter has ‘nothing to do with harmony of sound or colour’ sounds prophetic, confirming his aesthetic radicalism. In 1859 Whistler moved from Paris to London and began to put into practice the ‘realism of the flaneur’ with a series of images depicting life on the Thames Docklands, including ‘Black Lion Wharf ‘and ‘Rotherhithe’, and a key painting in the genre entitled ‘Wapping’ (1864). Even before the Ruskin affair, these urban modernist subjects (the ‘profound and intricate poetry of a vast capital’ to quote a review in Le Boulevard by Baudelaire himself) attracted much negative reaction from guardians of propriety apparently scandalised by depictions of Social Evil and moral degradation. A similar outcry greeted the painting ‘On The Thames’ (1876) by society painter James Tissot showing a (presumably) promiscuous threesome lounging in a boat depicted with exact realism but which was condemned as a scene of questionable virtue when first exhibited. One more recent critic noted, however, that Tissot had managed to penetrate beyond the fashions of his era and seduce the viewer with the ‘ambivalence of modernity’. The same might also be said of Whistler’s images of Docklands life.

The seeds of this cultural shift in values have always been part of the Modern project. They have been present from the earliest days of the Proto-Modern into the Nineteenth Century. This was period that saw alarming new descriptions of the human condition – derived not only from Darwin, but also from Marx, Nietzsche, Freud and sociologists such as Durkheim and Weber or, even earlier, from Hutton’s Theory of The Earth – exert a drastic influence on the socio-cultural climate. These new doctrines heralded a new culture, a culture ‘with no visible means of support’, no foundations and no centre; a culture that rejects the hegemony of any particular perspective, a culture without a ‘moral compass’. According to Durkheim, in a statement that sounds very similar to principles developed by Freud, ‘social life should be explained not by the conceptions of those who participate in it, but by profound causes which escape consciousness…’

This is the nightmare of the anti-modernists, of all those socio-political elements who, after the seismic shock of the proclamation of the Goddess of Reason (1793), metamorphosed from advocates of the counter-Reformation into counter-revolutionaries. Opponents would stigmatise the counter-revolution as anti-progressive and reactionary, but the anti-modernists – as defenders of the old order and the strong state, as opponents of mob rule and the machine age, as promoters of monarchic restoration, as ‘ultras’ or theocrates – would take up their position on the moral high ground. This wave of anti-modernism was represented in Victorian England by cultural commentators, those revered ‘sages’ or ‘prophets’, such as Thomas Carlyle and Matthew Arnold, who expended considerable effort trying to reconcile the horrors of the machine age with traditional moral precepts of the good and the beautiful and with notions of the just society.

In 1829 Pope Leo XII had forbidden vaccination against small pox; by 1864 the Vatican had consolidated its view on Modernism, and, in the Encyclical Quanta Cura (‘The Syllabus of Errors’), denounce all those features of the modern world to which it was implacably opposed. These included Socialism, Pantheism, Rationalism, Natural Ethics, Modern Liberalism and other matters of concern or threat to the hierarchy. The pontiff assured the faithful that he would never ‘reconcile himself to, and agree with, progress, liberalism and modern civilisation.’ By 1910, two years after Adolf Loos, one of the pioneers of Pure Architecture, had, in a semi-satirical article, condemned all ornamentation as crime, Pope Pius X required all new priests to take an oath against Modernism, the Sacrorum Antistitum. This oath remained in place until 1967 and still defines the Anti-Modernist worldview of the priesthood even today.

Alongside this ‘official’ Anti-Modernism flourished the occult underground. This was a subculture that overlapped both ‘the fantastic’ and artistic bohemia. From Swedenborg (via Blake) to Theosophy (via Mondrian), occultism influenced the course of Modern Art in a subterranean way. The nineteenth century Occult Revival started in the Year of Revolutions (1848) with the Spiritualist ‘rappings’ at Hydesville in the USA. Subsequently this neo-spiritual, occult tendency manifest a number of developmental peaks, from the writings of Eliphas Levi in the late 1850s to the founding of the SPR (Society for Psychical Research) in 1882 and the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (1888). In France the Rose-Croix Kabbalstique (1888) of Guaita and Peledan was founded at the same time. Occult ideas such as universal analogy, the hidden geometry of reality, the meaning of symbols, initiation, the astral plane, the Hermetic androgyny and the mediumistic dictation of spirit writing, permeated the avant-garde on various levels, providing an impetus for the development of Abstract Painting (Hilma af Klint) and, via Strindberg, artistic techniques of ‘automatism’.

If the revival of Hermetic philosophies and magical societies is interpreted as ‘flight from reason’ or a rejection of contemporary life, then the Occult Revival may be viewed as anti-modernist backlash tendency (as in the case of W. B. Yeats). However many occultists (following the example of Levi) sought to reconcile Science and Religion and, by developing heretical strands of unorthodox thought, occupied an intermediate position between establishment anti-modernist reaction and radical, anarchic, pro-modernist trends (as in the case of Rimbaud). In the nineteen twenties the Surrealists sought to detach various aspects of occult thinking from traditional interpretations and quasi-mystical accretions in the pursuit of a revolutionary aesthetic of chance, automatism, mad love and ‘the marvellous’ as predicted by the progenitor of poetic urban modernism: The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvellous subjects. We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvellous; but we do not notice it… - Baudelaire
 
Select Bibliography
Barthes, Roland, Writing Degree Zero, Hill and Wang, 2012
Barzun, Jacques, Classic, Romantic and Modern, University of Chicago, 1961
Baudelaire, Charles, The Complete Verse, Anvil Press, 1986
Baudelaire, Charles, The Painter of Modern Life and Other Essays. Phaidon Press, 2006
Benjamin, Walter, The Work Of Art in The Age of Mechanical Reproduction (1936), in Blackwell, 1993
Breton, Andre, Manifestos of Surrealism, University of Michigan, 2007
Conrad, Joseph, The Secret Agent, Oxford University Press, 2004
Dostoyevsky, Fyodor, Notes from Underground, Penguin Books, 2009
Harrison, Charles/Wood, Paul, Art in Theory 1900-1999, Blackwell, 1993
Koval, Anne, Whistler in His Time, Tate Gallery, 1994
Lasch, Christopher, The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an Age of Diminishing Expectations, Abacus, 1980
Sassen, Saskia, A Sociology of Globalization, W. W. Norton, 2007
Shattuck, Roger, The Banquet Years The Origins of The Avant Garde in France 1885 to WW1, Random House 1968

Illus: Waveform Fantasy, 2001