Theodore Gracyk

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 26.1 (2002) 173-187 [Access article in PDF] Symposium: On Ken Burns's "Jazz" Jazz After Jazz: Ken Burns and the Construction of Jazz History Theodore Gracyk As all action is by its nature to be figured as extended in breadth and in depth, as well as in length; and so spreads abroad on all hands... so all narrative is, by its nature, of only one dimension; only travels forward towards one, or towards successive points; narrative is linear, action is solid. Alas for our "chains" or chainlets, of "causes and effects." —Thomas Carlyle, "On History," 1830 Jazz and freedom are synonyms. —Mezz Mezzrow I JAZZ, A FILM BY KEN BURNS is a fascinating and monumental achievement. In this essay, I identify and critique some of the project's core assumptions. My principal target is the assumption that a specific essence of jazz underlies most (but not all) of the music that is regularly identified as jazz and that the historical unfolding of this essence is the true subject of a historical investigation of jazz. This assumption accounts for the project's otherwise puzzling suggestion that jazz history ended approximately thirty-five years ago.The most visible element of the historical project is the ten-part, nineteen-hour documentary, Jazz: A Film by Ken Burns. However, the historical project has three other public elements. The first is a book, Jazz: A History of America's Music. 1 Credited to both Geoffrey C. Ward and Ken Burns, the bulk of the book is the film's spoken text, which includes both a unifying narrative and numerous quotations. The book makes it clear that this text is primarily Ward's work. Second, there is a website that makes available extensive transcripts of many of the [End Page 173] seventy-five interviews conducted for use in the film. Third, there is a set of twenty-two compact discs, each giving an overview of an important jazz musician (e.g., one devoted to Count Basie, one devoted to Dizzy Gillespie). Highlights of these discs have, in turn, been assembled into a five-disc box set called Ken Burns Jazz. My aim is to reveal and examine the conceptual scaffolding that supports and organizes this vast, multifaceted project.What is the principal assumption of this historical project? The project consistently emphasizes the music's capacity to give audible embodiment to the idea of American democracy. At the same time, the project is less than forthcoming about the aesthetic assumptions embraced by Ward and Burns. Familiar and predictable arguments are introduced to justify the appellation of "art" and to address the issue of the purported death of jazz in the 1970s. However, these two strands of the larger argument may be at cross-purposes with the principal assumption and the ideology that jointly justify the project's status as jazz history.Let me begin by describing the principal assumption in some detail. While there is no reason to suppose that its source is Ken Burns or his chief collaborator, historian Geoffrey Ward, the following blurb was used to advertise the project: Jazz has been called the purest expression of American democracy; a music built on individualism and compromise, independence and cooperation. Join us for an exploration of jazz, America's greatest cultural achievement. In keeping with this theme, the narration and principal interviewees of the film are positioned to emphasize that jazz is an audible embodiment of the idea of American democracy. Let us call this idea the democracy thesis. It is placed as a frame around the whole film: Wynton Marsalis announces it in the opening minutes of the first episode, and then he reiterates it in fresh words at the end of the last episode. Although it is repeated with numerous variations, the democracy thesis proposes that jazz involves an ideal of democratic America, not the fact of life in America: jazz, Wynton Marsalis assures us, is "a glimpse of what America is going to be when it becomes itself. And this music tells you that it will become itself." 2 Jazz...

_The Philosophy of Art _is a highly accessible introduction to current key issues and debates in aesthetics and philosophy of art. Chapters on standard topics are balanced by topics of interest to today's students, including creativity, authenticity, cultural appropriation, and the distinction between popular and fine art. Other topics include emotive expression, pictorial representation, definitional strategies, and artistic value. Presupposing no prior knowledge of philosophy, Theodore Gracyk draws on three decades of teaching experience to provide a balanced and engaging overview, clear explanations, and many thought-provoking examples. All chapters have a strong focus on current debates in the field, yet historical figures are not neglected. Major current theories are set beside key ideas from Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Marx, and Hegel. Chapters conclude with advice on further readings, and there are recommendations of films that will serve as a basis for further reflection and discussion. Key ideas are immediately accompanied by exercises that will test students' reactions and understanding. Many chapters call attention to ideology, prejudices, and common clichés that interfere with clear thinking. Beautifully written and thoroughly comprehensive, _The Philosophy of Art _is the ideal resource for anyone who wants to explore recent developments in philosophical thinking about the arts. It is also provides the perfect starting point for anyone who wants to reflect on, and challenge, their own assumptions about the nature and value of art.

Provides a wide-ranging introduction to aesthetic theory and philosophy of art for readers, particularly university students who seek an overview of major controversies, theories, and writers. The 44 readings are chosen for their capacity to provide a representative set of competing perspectives within the contemporary debate and are edited to be accessible to undergraduates. With 40 readings by contemporary authors and 4 classic texts that provide a solid foundation, Aesthetics: A Reader is both accessible and current

Arthur C. Danto’s The Transfiguration of the Commonplace is one of the most influential recent books on philosophy of art. It is noteworthy for both his method, which emphasizes indiscernible pairs and sets of objects, and his conclusion, which is that artworks are distinguished from non-artwork counterparts by a semantic and aesthetic transfiguration that depends on their relationship to art history. In numerous contexts, Danto has confirmed that the relevant concept of art is the concept of fine art. Examples of music that are not fine art demonstrate that semantic and aesthetic transfiguration does not require a relationship to art history or art theory. Appropriate interpretation and individuation of a great deal of music can be achieved by listeners who do not grasp art theory and who do not guide their interpretation by reference to the concept of art

Education and learning occur in various settings, some of which are more formally institutionalized than others. Even if it seems to have failed as a definition of art, awareness of art-world institutions has increased in the wake of George Dickie’s proposal that art enmeshes an artifact in a set of interlocking yet informally structured art-world systems, that is, “the art-world.”1 However, relatively little of that attention has fallen on the distinctively educative roles played by art-world institutions and those who act on their behalf. This oversight is sometimes addressed when the topic is the art museum,2 but very little has been said about parallel issues concerning music, the concert hall, and what Virgil..

Although popular music is increasingly recognized as an important area of inquiry in philosophy of art, many organizing principles have been taken over from other fields without scrutiny. This article selects heavy metal as an example of the value of applying philosophy of criticism to discourse about popular music. Metal is now in its fifth decade, and its combination of longevity and diversity have made it an attractive topic in popular music studies. In accounts of metal by musicologists and social science researches, metal is almost always referred to as a genre of music, and the genre is said to unify diverse metal subcultures, which are associated with diverse styles of metal. An examination of the concepts of genre and subculture as they are typically understood in popular music studies generally, and in metal studies in particular, suggests that they do not function to delineate metal as a unitary category. However, contemporary philosophy of art provides several theoretical principles that provide criteria for identifying a unified genre. The relevant theories are historical definitions of art and Kendall Walton's account of style. Viewed in terms of these philosophical developments, metal should be seen as an evolving assemblage of related styles, only some of which are associated with fans who constitute a subculture. However, it is not a "category" in Walton's sense of that term. Video abstract

Philosophy of art presupposes differences between art and other cultural activity. Philosophers have recently paid more attention to this excluded activity, particularly to the range of cultural production known as popular art. Three issues have dominated these discussions. First, there is debate about the basis of the distinction. Some philosophers contend that fine art is essentially different from popular art, but others hold that the distinction is entirely social in origin. Second, philosophers disagree on the degree of continuity or discontinuity that holds between fine and popular art. Third, there is controversy about the relative value of the two, and about the basis for the supposed superiority of fine art.

The key idea given in Eminem's defense is that viewers who were upset were simply not understanding the nature of his performance. Implicitly, his defense admits that lip‐synching would be a fraudulent performance. However, the defense reclassifies these performances as genuine but flawed, ones in which he sometimes went silent when he should have been “doubling” the prerecorded vocal. Basically, Eminem's Saturday Night Live (SNL) presentations of “Mosh” and “Bezerk” are Andy Kaufman's “Mighty Mouse” piece minus the frame that raises the philosophical issues. Offering no larger frame and no indication of more complex intentions, Eminem's SNL performances of “Mosh” and “Bezerk” offer the audience little or nothing to appreciate. Depending on what a reader thinks he intended to do, he either did not give a live performance, or he gave a bad live performance. Kaufman, in contrast, used lip‐synching to give a great live performance.

This essay details David Hume’s complex contextualist account of aesthetic properties. Focusing mainly on the essay “Of the standard of taste”, I argue that Hume’s account of aesthetic properties anticipates many points advanced in Kendall Walton’s 1970 essay “Categories of art”, most notably the thesis that proper detection of most aesthetic properties depends on awareness of which nonaesthetic properties are standard, contra-standard, and variable for the relevant category of art. Consequently, they both reject the position we now describe as aesthetic empiricism. Yet there are also distinctive aspects of Hume’s account. Most notably, Hume holds that delicacy of imagination is involved in avoiding prejudice when perceiving nonaesthetic properties. He also proposes that aesthetic terms such as “beauty” and “elegance” capture positively valenced thick concepts because aesthetic properties are necessarily (in part) value properties.

Sound recordings have many functions, but the encoding and playback of music is among the most ubiquitous. Recordings of music have a dual nature. Originally they were artifacts that represented some of the sonic features of a particular music performance. However, they are also artifacts with their own characteristics, which vary as the technology developed. Consequently, recorded music can be approached from dual perspectives: as documentation of music performed in the past, or as an artwork in itself. Walter Benjamin was therefore wrong in his prediction that modern reproduction methods would negate the "aura" of artworks. The essay illustrates the issues with extended discussion of the Grateful Dead’s 1969 album *Aoxomoxoa* as compared to live recordings of the group made at this time.