Arthur Danto, Moving Picture
Ref: Danto, A. C. (2006) ‘Moving Pictures’, in Noël Carroll & Jinhee Choi (eds.) Philosophy of film and motion pictures: An Anthology. Blackwell philosophy anthologies. Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub. p. 103-112
Arthur C. Danto, in Moving Pictures, examines the distinction between film and theatre, shifting the focus from environmental factors to the image itself. For Danto, projection is not an essential element of film. He places moving pictures within the evolutionary expansion of representational painting, which developed from drawing. Unlike theatre, which involves a seated audience focused on a shared spectacle, film does not necessarily require projection onto a screen. He cites peepboxes as an early example of moving pictures, stating, "it is due less to what is seen than to the fact that it is seen in a box […] a holy object deposited in the real world but not of it, belonging to another domain of reality […] that it logically excludes its spectators from the space and often the time it occupies" (Danto, 2006, p. 100).
For Danto, the invention of the projector allowed audiences to metaphorically enter the box, similar to theatre, creating a shared viewing experience. "The invention of the projector enabled the audience to enter the box, which then receded into the mere walls of the theatre, and some different method for marking the space between audience and spectacle was required: but this way a lot of people could see the same show at once, with measurable economic advantages to the impresario, chairs being cheaper than optical contraptions like Reynaud’s praxinoscopes" (Danto, 2006, p. 101). Despite this, Danto considers film closer to moving pictures than to drama and illustrates this with a quote from Frost: "each spectator watched as in a stereoscope a setting which was only for him, although similar to the thousands of others, each for himself, the rest of the spectators" (Danto, 2006, p. 101).
A key distinction between film and drama is that each theatre performance occurs in a specific place and time (Plato ante rem), whereas a film screening is not a reproduction of a prior performance. The relationship between an original and a copy in film is fundamentally different from that in theatre. In cinema, "the copy of two films showing twice is not part of the concept of performance; one copy does not designate another as its original" (Danto, 2006, p. 101). Furthermore, in contrast to painting, where multiple reproductions might affect appreciation, "nothing remotely parallel compromises our appreciation of a showing which happens exactly to resemble another one" (Danto, 2006, p. 101). While there are original and derivative filmmakers, the concept of an original film copy does not hold significant artistic value. The term epigones, meaning imitators, refers not to identical image reproductions but rather to stylistic or conceptual borrowing.
Danto further differentiates film from painting through the experiences of seeing and watching. In painting, "there is nothing further to watch for" (Danto, 2006, p. 102), whereas film, even in cases where nothing happens, always moves towards an end. The temporal nature of film and theatre, compared to painting, is challenging to define precisely, yet film has "beginnings and endings," which introduce "logical immobility. Here, immobility has to be willed" (Danto, 2006, p. 103).
In the next section, Danto turns to methodological theory, addressing how two seemingly identical things can be distinguished within the realm of art. He explores the philosophical problem of differentiation by arguing that to make an inductive inference valid, one must look beyond a given set of possible hypotheses. "These factors will always be logically external to the thing in question" (Danto, 2006, p. 103). He provides several examples, beginning with the distinction between a dream and a veridical experience. While some may see no difference between them, experience is distinguished by its connection to external reality. Similarly, distinguishing between genuine and fake requires referencing external factors. "The distinction between them must be established with reference to factors external to the works themselves" (Danto, 2006, p. 103).
This idea is further exemplified in Warhol’s Brillo Boxes, which are artworks rather than mere real objects, despite being visually identical. "Understanding what art then is requires us to avert our eyes from the manifest appearance of things and ask what it is that does not meet the eye, which makes the difference between art and reality […] the difference is ontological and between things which otherwise are indiscriminable." The knowledge of this difference changes the experience (Danto, 2006, p. 103).
Modern aesthetics teaches us to understand artworks inductively, moving from specific observations to broader conclusions. However, this approach fails when another object shares identical characteristics. This method is reminiscent of Deleuze’s approach to cinema. Lastly, Danto examines the distinction between a film of a play and a screenplay proper (Danto, 2006, p. 106).
In the following section, Danto addresses the relationship between photography and cinema concerning direct and spontaneous reality. Photography maintains a unique relationship with the real world because, when an image x meets the causal conditions for being a photograph of x, its semantic identification follows. "Thus something exactly like a photograph of Rouen Cathedral is itself not of Rouen Cathedral if not caused by the Cathedral of Rouen" (Danto, 2006, p. 104). This causal link breaks down when (1) the circumstances of its occurrence are uncertain, (2) it is based on belief rather than direct documentation, or (3) even if it bears a striking resemblance to its subject, the semantic link is lost.
However, these constraints can be bypassed when an image either (1) develops its own semantic structure based on its subject (motif) or (2) stands for something beyond itself, adopting a different rule of interpretation (model). An example of this distinction is Reynolds’ portrait of Mrs Siddons as The Muse of Tragedy. In this case, Siddons serves as the motif of the painting, whereas in another context, a model resembling Siddons could be used merely as a visual representation of the Muse of Tragedy (Danto, 2006, p. 105).
Danto concludes by examining representational differences in space, time, and action between photography and cinema. Photography remains inextricably tied to the objects it captures, offering spontaneous reference to an external reality, whereas cinema’s reality is far more elastic. "The objects that we see in old movies have often far greater interest as motifs than as models, and the films themselves have a greater interest as inadvertent documentaries than as screenplays" (Danto, 2006, p. 105).
Cinema’s connection to reality can take two forms: (1) a film of a play, which is a direct recording of a staged performance (e.g., a filmed version of Hamlet), or (2) a screenplay proper, where the actors perform as if they are in a stage production, though no actual play exists (Danto, 2006, p. 106). In the first case, while film can introduce additional perspectives and angles, the recorded play remains an external event: "But even so, it is a staged play which is being filmed, an external event having an existence external to the film" (Danto, 2006, p. 106). A photograph of graffiti may represent graffiti but remains merely about graffiti rather than being graffiti itself.
Danto also discusses how cinema conveys motion. Moving pictures are just that: pictures which move, not just (or necessarily at all) pictures of moving things (Danto, 2006, p. 108). Before the moving picture, it would not have been necessary to call paintings non-moving pictures. However, with statues, the possibility of movement was always present, as seen in the statues of Daedalus and in Alexander Calder’s mobiles.
In cinema, movement does not necessarily reside in the subject but in semantic movement. Danto gives the example of L’Avventura (1960) by Michelangelo Antonioni, in which time is used as a cinematic image. A close-up, for instance, does not mean the object is moving towards the viewer; rather, it gives the sensation that the viewer is moving towards the object.
Cinema’s spatial understanding extends beyond simple viewing; it moves through space. Unlike theatre, where the audience is grounded in a fixed perspective, film positions the viewer both within and beyond its constructed world. "Cinema marches together with the other arts of the twentieth century in the respect that art itself becomes the ultimate subject of art" (Danto, 2006, p. 111).