The following is an
introductory text produced for an exhibition of research staff currently
teaching at Gray’s School of Art.
Throughout my career as an artist and academic, I have always
been interested in the theory as well as the many practices of representation. During
the last 5 years this interest has developed to the point that my research has become
wholly devoted to the theory of representation and its wider implications, most
especially as it pertains to perception, communication and consciousness.
What is representation? By "representation" I mean precisely
what we commonly mean by the term in ordinary language. Representations are
stand-ins typically, although not exclusively, used for the purposes of communication. Even political representatives act as proxies for the people whose political views they represent. In short, representations are useful substitutes for the
things they represent (although substitution alone is obviously not sufficient for representation).
The means by which representations function might seem to be extremely varied, because they are can involve so many different techniques. But in fact representations can be divided into three distinct categories (vide Donald Brook 1997, 2013), two nonverbal and one verbal. The two nonverbal strategies of representation rely on two importantly different sorts of resemblance, whereas verbal communication relies upon the capacity to accept almost anything as a symbolic substitute for anything else. This is an extremely sophisticated skill, almost entirely restricted to most humans.
The means by which representations function might seem to be extremely varied, because they are can involve so many different techniques. But in fact representations can be divided into three distinct categories (vide Donald Brook 1997, 2013), two nonverbal and one verbal. The two nonverbal strategies of representation rely on two importantly different sorts of resemblance, whereas verbal communication relies upon the capacity to accept almost anything as a symbolic substitute for anything else. This is an extremely sophisticated skill, almost entirely restricted to most humans.
It is my view that our prodigious skill in the use of
symbolic communication is the result of a long history of tool-use and especially
of practices of social exchange in which objects and behaviours become
interchangeable due to socially negotiated attributions of value that are ascribed
to them. It is this process—this technique—of value attribution that I regard as
such a vital factor in the emergence of practices of symbol-use and the
ascription of symbolic meaning.
It will be clear then, that I regard symbolic meaning as an
exclusively human invention because it is fully dependent upon the
capacity to treat objects and circumstances as having significance that is not a quantifiable property of them. When we say that a ball means "playtime" to a dog,
we need not be committing ourselves to the belief that the dog regards the ball
as a symbol of playtime. We merely
mean that the dog knows that the ball usually accompanies playful activity. In
other words, we take the dog to be capable of forming associative responses to
things and thus to know what they mean in this limited sense.
Returning to nonverbal representations, we find that
language enables us to treat these also as verbal constructs, but it does not follow that it is always appropriate to do so; to treat them as messages, signifiers, descriptions or texts. What a nonverbal representation is of is what we might regard as a first-order representational feature. What it is about, on the other hand, is a second-order representational feature and thus depends on a different set of interpretive resources on our part.
There is another common confusion that my research seeks to disentangle.
Images, for example, do not resemble things in the same way as models. Models,
copies, replicas, reproductions, re-enactments, and exemplification etc. all
function because they share features in common with the things they represent.
These shared features may be approximate to various degrees, but they are not the result of effects. Images,
on the other hand, are only fully like
the things they represent in certain ways and under certain conditions. In other words, depictions
can sometimes be mistaken for the things they represent, but such mistakes rely
to a very significant degree on the particular circumstances of presentation
or encounter (i.e. the level and evenness of light, our point of view, our level of
attentiveness etc.). This is the basis of many illusions of course.
Finally, to say that an image is a description or that a description is a picture or that a picture is a model or that models delineate the world etc. is to talk in circles. My research is intended to show how the theorisation of philosophers, researchers and sometimes even scientists can go awry when they carelessly confuse, misunderstand or mischaracterise distinct categories of representation.
Finally, to say that an image is a description or that a description is a picture or that a picture is a model or that models delineate the world etc. is to talk in circles. My research is intended to show how the theorisation of philosophers, researchers and sometimes even scientists can go awry when they carelessly confuse, misunderstand or mischaracterise distinct categories of representation.
4 comments:
What do you think of this by Pinker?
“A brain is a computational system in which knowledge and goals are represented as patterns in bits of matter (‘representations’). The system is designed in such a way that one representation causes another to come into existence; and these changes mirror the laws of some normatively valid system like logic, statistics, or laws of cause and effect in the world. … The design of the system thus ensures that if the old representations were accurate, the new ones are accurate as well. Deriving new accurate beliefs from old ones in pursuit of a goal is not a bad definition of ‘intelligence’.”
Steven Pinker
Well, let's examine the logic. Either a representation is intentional or it is unintentional. If it is unintentional, then action cannot logically be intentional. And if it is intentional, then logically it must be initiated by another intentional representation and then another and another ad infinitum.
Pinker is often good. But on this subject he is bewitched by the reflection he sees in the cauldron of our own technological prowess.
I'm afraid I don't take your point, Jim.
First, I don't see why a sequence of representations must be either intentional or not. An unintentional representation can instigate an intentional response, can it not? And, logically, the inverse is also true.
Second, why ad infinitum? I don't understand your objection to an initiating representation. There is a point when a baby has its first conscious thought, just as the adult might begin a reasoned line of thought based on the memory of a dream.
"I don't see why a sequence of representations must be either intentional or not."
Well what else could they be? It's a logical point. They either are or they are not intentional. If they are not, there can be no intention (according to the inner representation model) and if they are, then (by this model) we have no way to avoid the charge of an infinite regress.
The supposition that a baby has its first conscious thought _ex nihilo_ is a crude rendering of what is most likely a gradual dawning based upon the acquisition of a repertoire of socially shaped skills. Representing (verb) is one of them and it is fully and necessarily public.
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