Today, we talked about the concept of an aesthetic experience. When I first heard the term, my mind immediately jumped to the visual factor. Given that this is an art-heavy class and Florence is renowned for its visual beauty, this felt like a fair assumption. As the philosophy major in our class explained, however, the feeling we get when looking at a particularly breathtaking view or painting can be generalized to all kinds of situations. This might seem obvious, but in some ways this was a bit of a revelation for me. An aesthetic experience is one where you are speechless, and your mind is overcome by the thing you are beholding. It overtakes all else, and you feel like you are, for just a moment, one with whatever is being observed. It can be something you see, a piece of music you hear, or even a captivating idea.
The three facets of an aesthetic experience are: novelty, complexity, and a challenge to our capacity to understand. Each of these factors is fascinating in its own right.
Novelty means that the thing is new to you, but that does not mean you cannot feel in awe of something even if you’ve seen in 20 times. Maybe you notice something new, or maybe you relate to it in a different way than you did before. In a way, the variability of daily events we experience means that even if you do the same thing over and over, each day it’s a little bit different. Even recalling a memory in a new context can shed new light on an old experience.
Complexity puzzled me. It sounds like it’s saying that the more complex something is, the more aesthetic the experience will be. How can this be if something as simple as an entirely blue canvas can inspire shock and awe (as anyone who has been to a modern art exhibit can observe)? Tomi-Ann explained that complexity works as a bell curve. If something is remarkably complex or remarkably simple and pure, you will be more likely to have an awe inspiring experience.
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, is the challenge to one’s capacity to understand. This, to me, feels the most human. It takes a mind capable of knowing what it does and doesn’t know to consciously be dazzled by the wonderful mysteriousness of an awe-inspiring masterpiece. The Grand Canyon was formed by a river, yes, but it truly feels beyond our ability as humans to fully comprehend the process of canyon carving. The millions and millions of years and gradual change is hard to wrap the mind around. The same can be said of a work of art. To have this aesthetic experience, you must be blown away by the sheer mystery of creation of whatever is being observed.
Lastly, today in class we discussed Stendhal Syndrome. Although questionable in its scientific merits, Stendhal Syndrome is the anecdotal occurrence of feeling positively overwhelmed by something, typically a work of art, to the point of getting dizzy, fainting, or even hallucinating. The symptoms have been reported in places like Jerusalem and Florence, where the rich history, beautiful elements, and wonder of the location combine to overload a person’s ability to experience. Now there are a lot of reasons this might happen, most notably are the stresses of travel and the preexistence of mental health issues, perhaps leaving an individual tourist more vulnerable to this type of “overload.” Regardless, I enjoy thinking about Stendhal Syndrome. I like the idea that an aesthetic experience can be so incredibly powerful that someone simply cannot handle it, and faints. The beauty and the history and the context are just too much, and your brain crashes, like a computer. It’s nice to think that someone is capable of creating an item so astoundingly shocking and remarkably beautiful that tourists collapse at its sight. I don’t know why that idea captivates me so much, but as I said earlier, it feels so viscerally human. It speaks to the innocence I feel one should pursue as a tourist in a new place. To allow one’s self to be so open to the novelty, complexity, and incomprehensibleness that you literally faint is a mindset we should all strive for. I hope that I never stop feeling awed by beautiful paintings, or architecture, or mountain views. There’s just something so lovely about being able to be astounded by beauty.
