The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 1 (of 4): Hegel's AesthetikHegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich
Philosophy
The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 1 (of 4): Hegel's Aesthetik
Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich
Aesthetics
If, then, a sensuous form and configuration is to be correspondent
with a true and therefore concrete content, such must in the third
place likewise be as clearly individual, entirely concrete and a
self-enclosed unity. This character of concreteness, predicable of
both aspects of art, the content no less than the representation, is
just the point in which both coalesce and fall in with one another.
The natural form of the human body is, for example, such a sensuous
concrete capable of displaying Spirit in its essential concreteness and
of adapting itself wholly to such a presentment. For which reason we
must quit ourselves of the idea that it is a matter of mere accident
that an actual phenomenon of the objective world is accepted as the
mode in which to embody such a form coalescent with truth. Art does
not lay hold of this form either because it is simply there or because
there is no other. The concrete content itself implies the presence
of external and actual, we may even add the sensuous appearance. But
to make this possible this sensuous concrete, which is essentially
impressed with a content that is open to mind, is also essentially
addressed to the inward conscious life, and the external mode of its
configuration, whereby it is visible to perception and the world of
idea, has for its aim the being there exclusively for the soul and mind
of man. This is the sole reason that content and artistic conformation
are dovetailed one into the other. The _purely_ sensuous concrete, that
is external Nature as such, does not exclusively originate in such an
end. The variously coloured plumage of birds is resplendent unseen; the
notes of this song are unheard. The Cereus[136], which only blossoms
for a night, withers away without any admiration from another in the
wilderness of the southern forests; and these forests, receptacles
themselves of the most beautiful and luxuriant vegetation, with the
richest and most aromatic perfumes, perish and collapse in like manner
unenjoyed. The work of art has no such naïve and independent being. It
is essentially a question, an address to the responding soul of man, an
appeal to affections and intelligence.
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