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Walter BenjaminThe Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction
Nonfiction | Essay / Speech | Adult | Published in 1935A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Themes
Technology and Artistic Production
One of the most important themes Benjamin explores is the relationship between technology and artistic production, specifically how technology changes not only the form of an artwork but the way that the public engages with art. To do so, Benjamin analyzes the history of modes of production of art and establishes his own criteria for analysis of art which he describes as “aura” (222).
Benjamin contrasts man-made reproduction techniques with those done by mechanical processes. He begins with a discussion of early man-made reproduction techniques, such as the ancient Greeks who used “founding and stamping” (218) and “engraving and etching” in the Middle Ages (219). In contrast, he notes that photography and moving pictures can be created with minimal effort. This technology ushers in a whole new age of artistic production. Benjamin seeks to analyze the effects of these technological advances have had on society.
The framework that Benjamin uses to complete this analysis is that of authenticity and aura. He describes how that which makes a work of art “authentic” (243) is its connection to its “unique existence” in time and space (220). For example, “chemical analyses” of a bronze help scientists identify exactly where and when it was made (220). He contrasts this with photography and films, where many copies can be made that are exactly identical. If one prints multiple copies of a photograph from one negative, it is no longer worthwhile to try and determine which of these photographs is the “authentic” one (224). In this way, Benjamin argues, the work of art is “detache[d]” from “the domain of tradition” (221). The object can no longer be associated with a particular place and time. As a result, the object loses its unique “aura,” or somewhat mystical quality.
As a result of this new method of artistic creation, completely detached from a specific place and time, artists begin to make works of art that are not just reproduced but reproducible. Essentially, artists use these new forms of technology with the intention of reproducing art. This is what we now call “mass media.” Such art is designed not for a select audience, such as visitors to a church, but rather for the general public. The broader the appeal of such works, the more value they are seen to have. It is for this reason that the “ritual” value of a work of art, such as a religious ideal, is replaced with political value (224).
Benjamin’s analysis emphasizes the key idea that technological advances have not just changed the way art is made but our very understanding of what art is. Take the example of a statue of Venus. For the ancient Greeks, this wasn’t an artwork as such but a cult ritual object that was the center of their religious life. It is only in the modern era, when its ritual value has fallen away culturally, that it comes to be considered a work of art. Similarly, where artworks were once evaluated by virtue of their authenticity and unique, manmade quality, in the era of photography and film, mass appeal is what indicates a successful work of art.
Depictions of Reality in Art
In the essay, Benjamin undertakes a lengthy analysis of the way that photography and film both depict reality and change the audience’s way of understanding technology. Both photography and film offered audiences art that was far closer to reality in appearance than in previous art forms. At the same time that art seems to become “more real,” however, Benjamin explores how this simulated reality affects an audience’s ability to “know” what is real when the aura is lost. In the same way that the aura of a statue is destroyed by making photographic reproductions of it, the aura of an actor is destroyed by capturing it on film. He looks closely at the way that films are made and contrasts this with theater.
Benjamin was deeply interested in theater, as evidenced by the topic of one of his most famous texts, The Origin of German Tragic Drama. He uses his knowledge of theater to draw out its contrasts with film. He also draws on the work of his close compatriot, the German experimental playwright Bertolt Brecht, to make his argument about the differences between film and theater. He notes that, unlike a play actor, film actors cannot “adjust to the audience during his performance” (228). As a result, the film actor is playing to the camera, rather than an audience. The actor is transformed from a living, breathing organism that responds to its environment into something more akin to stage decoration. No longer does the actor embody the figure of, for example, Macbeth, but instead he is just an aura-less picture of Macbeth. As a result, although the image produced by film looks more lifelike than images of humans shown on stage, they are ultimately less vibrant and realistic.
The methods of image manipulation in the production of a film also contribute to this uncanny effect wherein the image looks more realistic but is in fact further from “reality.” To illustrate this, Benjamin gives the example of a scene where the actor is supposed to be scared. If the actor does not seem scared enough during a take, the director can use “a [gun] shot” (230) to scare him at the studio without his foreknowledge. The image of the actor reacting to the scary sound can then be “cut into the screen version” (230). The audience doesn’t see any of these edits or manipulations, so they take the actor’s reaction to be genuine, even though it is manufactured. In this way, Benjamin argues, art no longer is in the realm of trying to depict reality as such but is in fact creating new realities. He describes phenomenon as “the height of artifice” (233).
Art as a Political Form
A throughline of the essay is art in politics and politics in art. Benjamin discusses how aura-less artwork, notably film and photography, can serve “art pour l’art” or “art for art’s sake.” He argues that even though these art forms portray themselves as apolitical, their modes of production, mass audiences, and depiction of reality make them political. He also argues that Fascism makes politics aesthetic. Under Fascist politics, how things are portrayed is more important than how they are.
Benjamin uses contrast to analyze how these new, mechanically reproduced art forms generate reactions in the mass political sphere. For example, Picasso’s paintings, which were a radical departure from traditional formats of painting and dealt with controversial social issues, generated a “reactionary attitude” (234) in the masses. In contrast, Charlie Chaplin’s movies, even though they are also different from traditional story telling of the time and deal with controversial social issues, result in a “progressive reaction” (234). Film, therefore, creates different political reactions in a mass audience because they are entertained rather than confronted by a work of art. This new set of circumstances allows the idea of “quality” in a work of art to be replaced with “quantity” (239) and “concentration” to be replaced with “distraction” (239). To return to the example of Picasso’s paintings, the public is not absorbed into them in the same way that they are absorbed into a Chaplin film. Because films are all-absorbing and distract us from real life, the audience is more willing to accept the reality presented in the film than they are of the reality presented in a painting.
The implications for politics here are complex. On one hand, Benjamin notes that films might be used to “promote revolutionary criticism of social conditions, even the distribution of property” (231). However, due to the “the capitalistic exploitation” (231) of the film market that actually exists at the time of his writing, he feels more often than not film is used to create a form of art that does not confront the audience, but rather seduces and subsumes them into the film’s point of view. This capitalist appropriation, combined with the “art for art’s sake” tendency of these new art forms, suggests to Benjamin that mankind now “experience[s] its own destruction as an aesthetic pleasure of the first order” (242). He argues that, now accustomed to being completely absorbed into an aesthetic work, the masses will accept war and Fascist violence as a matter of course.
