Walter Benjamin’s “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”: Appreciation, Appropriation, Use

In “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (1936), Walter Benjamin grounds his analysis in art that can be reproduced through mechanical means. Although art has always been “reproducible” in a sense (i.e. able to be replicated through human means), Benjamin points to the dawning of a “mechanical age” where art can be mass-produced (and reproduced) by machines.

As Benjamin outlines at the beginning of his text, the public’s relationship to works of art and aura is one that has always been dependent on the fine balance between cultural interpretation and technological development. Benjamin begins by focusing on how, prior to relatively recent developments in mechanical reproduction, ancient civilizations were forced to make copies of works such as coins or hieroglyphics by hand and, as a result, most “reproductions,” were essentially further opportunity to produce more “originals.” Reflecting on how the ancient Greeks could only reproduce works of art by casting or stamping, and how graphic art could only be reproduced by way of the woodcut, Benjamin maintains that in cases such as these “the authentic work retained its full authority in the face of a reproduction made by hand” (Benjamin 3). Because ancient civilizations could not produce a copy identical to the original sculpture or image, each work, even those created with the intention of becoming a replica of some work before it, maintained a sense of indisputable uniqueness that was unable to be wholly assimilated into its status as a reproduction. It therefore stands to reason that before advancements in technology emerged which allowed for the mass production of identical pieces of art, original works and handmade replicas were simply appreciated by the masses who produced and viewed them, in a way not wholly different to the manner in which our culture today reveres famous statues, sculptures, and paintings by placing them in museums and galleries.

However, it must be acknowledged that this apparent parallel between the manner of appreciation of art pre- and post-technological reproduction is the product of a precarious relationship between the uniqueness of a given work of art and its embeddedness in the context of tradition, be that cultural, social, or political. As Benjamin argues, tradition, as it applies to art, is “thoroughly alive and extremely changeable,” and this idea of tradition is most fully embodied in the level of “participation,” as Benjamin refers to it, that viewers of art demonstrate (Benjamin 6). Using a statue of Venus as an example, Benjamin comments on the two very different ways in which it was regarded by the ancient Greeks who created it, as opposed to medieval clerics a few centuries later:

An ancient statue of Venus, for instance, existed in a traditional context for the Greeks (who made it an object of worship) that was different from the context in which it existed for medieval clerics (who viewed it as a sinister idol). But what was equally evident to both was its uniqueness-that is, its aura…The earliest artworks originated in the service of rituals…The unique value of the ‘authentic’ work of art has its basis in ritual, the source of its original use value (Benjamin 6-7)

The disparate manner in which these two groups regarded the same work of art illustrates an important concept: that we do not need to appreciate art for its beauty, or even understand why a piece is beautiful, in order to discern and attribute literal or figurative value to its unique aura. As a Marxist, Benjamin ascribes a use value to art, arguing that in the wake of industrialization and the widespread use of film, mass produced art will be divorced from its original use value of pure, aesthetic beauty, or art simply existing for art’s sake, and instead take on a highly-politicized nature, leaving art vulnerable to political exploitation, and politics to “aestheticization.”

This idea of art as morphing to embody a “use” greater than that of its original production is highly pervasive in media today. Technological advancements in art have changed the way in which we can “participate” or interact with a given work; no longer do we have to simply view and appreciate a work from a distance (a distance that is implied by our removal from the physical space and context of the piece’s creation), but instead, we are now able to access and view almost any famous work in a veritably limitless array of formats: a computer background of Vincent Van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” a cell phone case depicting Sandro Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus,” (and many more, here) and even posters in college dorm rooms of Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss.” An iconic work such as Ed

vard Munch’s “The Scream,” for example, has been appropriated in modern culture to produce an entire line of Scream horror movies and accompanying masks for Halloween costumes.

Benjamin eerily predicts this transition from appreciation to appropriation in his discussion of cult value versus exhibitionist value: “With the emancipation of specific artistic practices from the service of ritual, the opportunities for exhibiting their products increase,” he argues, “…Today, through the absolute emphasis placed on its exhibition value, the work of art becomes a construct with new functions” (8). Benjamin relates “cult value” to prehistoric times, with an emphasis on magic, and relates “exhibition value” to a new emphasis placed on art in the current era, through which new functions-most notably the artistic function- are demonstrated

Technological advancements within the last century have completely altered our relationships to fine art. This becomes clear in Benjamin’s extended analysis of the painter versus the cameraman: the painter’s final product is whole and complete, whereas the cameraman’s is the product of a semblance of multiple shots and images, causing one to “surrender his/her thoughts to moving images” (18).

However, the filmed image is ultimately superior to that of the painting: it allows for collective experience and allows for an analysis more “readily available” in its presentation of the optical alongside the auditory, and its implied yoking of art and science (16). Where art was once static and immutable, it is now interactive, and Benjamin’s notion of use-value takes on an entirely different meaning when one considers that we can access, alter, and, most importantly, reproduce works of art to “use” in almost any way we choose; where art was once limited in scope to purely aesthetic consequence, technology enables its impact to become virtually limitless.

Important Takeaways from Benjamin:

• The original is the prerequisite to authenticity
• Authenticity can never be reproduced
• Technological reproduction has the potential to make art “mobile” in a sense (i.e. exist out of the time and space in which the original was created/minimize distance)
• Works of art are transformed from a unique existence –> multiple [identical] copies
• Cult value –> Artistic value –>Exhibitionist value
• Appreciation –> Appropriation

Discussion Questions:

1. Benjamin asks whether photography is art…or, if the invention of photography/film forever transformed art. What do you think? Are these two things different?
2. Think about the notion of authenticity/aura as it relates to art theft: Edvard Munch’s The Scream, Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Rembrandt’s Self-Portrait, have all been stolen (and recovered) at some point over the last 100 years. What value do these paintings have, compared to their digitally reproducible copies? Does their value lie in their cultural aura (which predicates their monetary value)? What other reasons would we have for stealing original works of art?
3. [As a follow-up to the previous question] Why do we want reproduced copies of famous images/statues (on prints, t-shirts, cell phone cases, posters, computer backgrounds, etc.)? What is the value/point of doing this?
4. How does Benjamin’s analysis of photography and film relate to our current relationship with art in the digital era? What counts as “art”? How does the computer/the screen mediate what we see in the same way the lens does in Benjamin’s discussion of the camera?