Art and Anthroposophy The Goetheanum Impulse: Summer Art Course 1921

GA 77b — 23 August 1921, Dornach

2. Anthroposophy and Art

Dear attendees! There was a famous esthete in Germany in the last half of the 19th century, and I believe I may say that he was justly famous. He wrote books that can justifiably be said to have been extraordinarily stimulating, books on aesthetic subjects, books on human cultural development, and he gave lectures at the University of Munich that aroused great interest in the broadest circles. Now fate would have it that a few years ago I was sitting in a studio with a famous Munich artist who was already an elderly gentleman at the time, and our conversation turned to this esthete, who had his heyday when the artist I was talking to was still an “art disciple,” was just striving for art and apparently lived in the company of other aspiring artists, who were always present in Munich. From certain backgrounds, I came to the question of how the artists themselves felt inspired by the aesthetic views, by the whole artistic view of life, of this esthete, at the time when the esthete was giving the lectures that interested him so much. And lo and behold, the now elderly artist well remembered some of the moods of his youth and then summarized the answer to my question in the words: “Yes, we artists also often heard this esthete; we just called him the ‘aesthetic grunter of bliss’!”

One could really hear a lot from this artist's view of a famous esthete, much of what one can also experience otherwise when artistic people are to give their judgment on the possible suggestions that they can get from scientific art observation. And one must say that one understands such rejections with truly artistic feeling – for they are mostly rejections; one understands how the artist, who has experienced aesthetics in the style of the usual, or rather, the usual science, cannot have much use for it. And actually, I must say, I understood the “aesthetic blissful grunt” extremely well. But many another artistic judgment about the scientific aesthetics of our time arose before my soul.

The artist feels, when confronted with what has been formed out of the scientific spirit of modern times in terms of aesthetics, he feels almost paralyzed in the fresh originality and in the elementary of his artistic experience. He has the feeling that he, as an artist, must live in an element that someone who views art from the standpoint of today's science cannot enter at all.

And for inner reasons, too, my dear attendees, this can seem understandable. Science, as it has developed in modern times, naturally and quite rightly tends, from its point of view, towards objectivity, towards the establishment of such results into which nothing is mixed from the inner human, from the — as it is said — subjective, from the human-personal. The more this science can ignore the human-personal, that which can be experienced inwardly in the phenomena of the external world, the more objective this science appears. But for this science, the human being is completely excluded from the world view, and in the position that the human being wants to achieve in relation to the world through this science, there is nothing left of what can be experienced within the soul itself, what can make the human being feel warm and inwardly illuminated. This science, to a certain extent, excludes direct experience of the external world from its activity. Man must exclude himself, and then he lives in the results of this science as in a world of ideas, which can only give a true picture of what is outside of man, which contains nothing of the human itself, and which is therefore far removed from the artistic experience, which must find a place in the world and in life with the whole full human personality, with a rich inner life, with an original, elementary inner life. By excluding the human element and extending the world of ideas only to that which is non-human, only a kind of dead idea appears in the consciousness of man as an idea. A sum of concepts, which are actually dead concepts and which are all the more perfect the more dead they are, deals with a dead mineral nature.

Anyone who looks very deeply into what is actually at issue here will therefore find it understandable that I say: It is quite understandable to me that in the artistic community, in view of modern aesthetics, the judgment has arisen that those people who understand least about art generally speak about art in this modern way in an aesthetic way. Yes, I must say that I understand every degree of rejection that artists express towards aesthetic science. It even seems entirely understandable to me when an artist says: if someone is completely unsuitable to understand art, then that is the best preparation for making a name for oneself as an esthete.

You see, ladies and gentlemen, it cannot be my intention to talk you into any popular aestheticism when I speak of the essence of anthroposophy and art. But it is certainly the case that the judgment that has been formed on the artistic side in recent times about the knowledge of art is, quite understandably, a negative one, and that this judgment is now extended to what has been decided within anthroposophy. Artistic natures, who first allow the anthroposophical to approach them externally, are just suspicious – because after all, anthroposophy is ultimately also a form of knowledge – that here too nothing can confront them but something that resembles the aestheticisms that have been gained from more recent science. And it is out of this prejudice, out of this superficial consideration of what actually lives in anthroposophy, that the now understandable rejection of anthroposophy by artists arises.

But here one should consider another thing. Here one should bear in mind that Anthroposophy, although it maintains the full scientific discipline of the human interior, is absolutely striving to elevate human knowledge from the mere observation of the external to the observation of the human, that Anthroposophy wants to penetrate into everything that is currently being suppressed by what is accepted in science today. It is precisely the human being in his essence that is to be given back to human knowledge, and anthroposophy aims to move from corpse-like concepts to living knowledge. The concepts of the world outside of the human being only form the foundation, so to speak. And what can only be gained through the development of certain powers of cognition and life that otherwise lie dormant in the human being, certain powers that are intimately connected through their own essence with the entire human essence itself, is built upon this objective knowledge, which is fully accepted as something justified. And when, within the context of anthroposophical knowledge, what is called imaginative knowledge arises in a healthy way in the human soul, then precisely that which external science is supposed to suppress and hold back rises up out of the depths of the soul into consciousness: The living human soul world itself rises into human consciousness. From the depths of the human organization, the living sum of forces of everything that the etheric human body brings into the physical human body as the greatest work of art in the world rises into human consciousness. And for those who advance to real imagination, what artistic experience is definitely encountered on their way. He advances into those regions from which the unconscious stimuli come to the artist.

Yes, my dear attendees, the imaginative cognizer advances into the regions where the impulses lie that the artist is not initially aware of, but which live and have power in his inner being, which guide his pictorial creation, which guide his hands, which make him a creator, an artist, so that he incorporates into the external material, into the external substance, that which he receives from these regions as inspiration. What the artist does not need to know at first, but what he incorporates out of his unconscious intuition into the material given to him from outside, that comes to the imaginative cognizer before the conscious soul life. Thus, the imaginative cognizer enters precisely those regions from which the life of the artistic creator actually springs. And when one is truly touched by what is found in these regions, then it is not artistic creativity, then it is not productive power that is paralyzed as it is by the science of the dead, but rather that which otherwise remains in the dark is first stimulated by a bright light. And one cannot say that when a person in a dark room has gained an impression of what is in the room through touch, this impression is extinguished by the room suddenly being lit. Those who grasp the meaning of this image will gradually learn to admit that artistic creativity is not killed by anthroposophical spiritual knowledge, but is stimulated in the most eminent sense. For how does this imaginative, and later inspired and intuitive knowledge work? It introduces the artist to that which he incorporates into the material, and he then stands before this aesthetic, which the scientific spirit of the last centuries has produced, in such a way that he recognizes exactly how this scientific spirit, with all its aesthetics, is basically only suitable for scientifically fathoming the outer material into which the artist works.

The external material used by the artist can be the object of conventional science. The spiritual life that he incorporates into the material consciously enters the human soul in imaginative knowledge. And this does not only need to be emphasized for the artistic experience in general, it can also be placed before the mind's eye for the individual concrete arts. There is an inner static of the human organization for imaginative recognition. That which is otherwise completely down in the subconscious, a certain inner static, an experience of inner line, an experience of inner equilibrium, is raised into consciousness. When imaginative knowledge advances to a certain level, then the human being experiences how upright he is, how a cosmic direction, which for our earthly existence coincides with the vertical, cannot only be seen, cannot only be verified with the plumb line, but how it can be experienced inwardly. One experiences how the human organism can experience other states of equilibrium, other powerful inner lines in their mutual relationships. One finds out how the inner static of the whole cosmos imaginatively comes to life again in the human interior. One can immerse oneself in the way, for example, in which the Oriental has experienced his particular bodily positions in instinctive imagination. There is a difference between experiencing the inner static and the inner dynamic of the human organism when one is standing upright on both feet and when one is in the position of a yogi meditating in the sense of Indian meditation. With every change in the posture of the human body, one experiences a different inner static.

Now, esteemed attendees, when the art of architecture was still productive, when the architectural styles, which today are only imitated, still arose from human productive power, then the imaginatively experienced inner statics which the human being carried out of his inner experience, so to speak translating it from the inwardly experienced – I have to express myself in this way – from a negative into a positive and making it the spirit of a temple or another building. A time that cannot experience inwardly cannot create architectural styles. He who wants to understand old architectural styles from what is being built today through our science of mechanics, statics and so on, does not come to the secrets of the older architectural styles, not even of the medieval Gothic architectural style. Only someone who knows how, let us say, certain oriental buildings are an imitation of what is imprinted in the mind through the imaginative experience of the Buddhist position, only such a person can understand this architecture. And again, only someone who can relive the inner experiences of the ancient Egyptians or Greeks with regard to the inner statics of the body can understand the Egyptian and Greek architecture in its style. It was said of medieval architecture that those who studied it kept certain secrets, certain mysteries, that could only be acquired by joining certain secret orders and rising through the degrees. This is no mere legend, it is a fact; for it was in these secret orders, which later became the masons' lodges and so forth, that the imaginative inner experiences of human knowledge were preserved, and from them one built even the Gothic cathedral.

It was only in the Renaissance that this principle of building, which was inspired by the spirit, was lost. It must be regained by penetrating from today's superficial, banal saying that man is a microcosm in relation to the macrocosm — which is nothing more than an abstractly postulated concept — by penetrating from this abstraction to a realization such as that we can, in imagination, piece by piece, present the structure of the universe itself, the wonderful architecture of the universe in the human inner static, in the human inner dynamic, in the dynamic to be experienced, and - as it were with the translation of the photographic negative into a positive - from this architecture in our inner experience, we can approach what today's technology, what today's science teaches, and in turn can appear as style-formers.

In all the phrases that are frequently used in our civilization today about renewal in one field or another, only the shallowest superficiality actually occurs, and progress towards new creative powers today requires a concrete inner view of the human being, requires a patient exploration of the innermost human experiences.

And just as one can experience the inner static and dynamic through imaginative contemplation, so too can one experience every surface of the human organism in its particular formation through this imaginative contemplation. One can therefore experience, by entering into that which works and creates in the human organism in the etheric body, how, with a certain progressive necessity, each individual surface that delimits the human organism outwards is created out of these inner forces. One can behold in imagination the shaping of the human being in creative movement.

But in this way, that in us is developed which guides us, not by imitating, not by adhering to the model, but by adhering to the creative forces in nature itself, to the spirit of nature itself, to conjure up the human form out of any material according to the same maxims by which nature itself conjures up this human form.

Spiritual insight into that which works and lives in the human form provides the true instruction for the sculptor, for the creator. Only a scientific, but unartistic age was obliged to adhere to the model. Anyone with even a modicum of feeling will understand that Greek sculpture, truly great Greek sculpture, does not adhere to the model, that there was a living inner experience of the form of the human arm, of the form of the human hand, and that naturalism arose when man was no longer able to rise from the comprehension of an elementary, human essence to the full plastic development of the human form, whether at rest or in motion. One cannot speak of true imagination in any other way than that, in following the path to imagination, one must at the same time encounter artistic experience unconditionally.

Only those who do not want to go the way to the spirit, but only the way to a refined matter, such as the spiritualists, have no idea of the innermost relationship of that which is present in the artistic experience with that which comes before the soul in the anthroposophical imagination.

Our soul, esteemed attendees, uses the bodily senses to, let us say, first see the world of color. At first, this soul is devoted to the world of color that appears in external objects. When the paths to the imagination are taken, an inner world of color arises in the soul, an inner experience of color, but with that, only then does the truly creative element arise in the soul. Only when we are able to grasp this intimate relationship between the inner life of the soul and color do we begin to understand why, by using the human eyes, we see the colored surfaces of external objects. By no longer looking at colors merely externally, we learn to live with colors. You learn to identify with color in your soul, to identify your soul with color. Through the harmony of colors, you learn to lose yourself in color and at the same time to find yourself in your true essence. In that the soul finds itself experiencing itself in color, it experiences itself at the same time in its inner relationship with outer nature, which it also experiences as colored, by making use of the outer physical organism.

And to become familiar with the inner world of color means to find the creative element in the color itself, it means to learn to create out of color, and it means to penetrate the secret of painting. It is always the case that what unconsciously guides the artist's hand is found to be the goal of imaginative, inspired, and intuitive knowledge.

And we can move up into the world of sounds. This world of sounds appears to us as something spiritual, because that which expresses itself as something truly artistic in sound cannot actually be an imitation of nature, because in the artistic experience of the world of sound, something is heard from the outset that is above nature. But when we become familiar with the world of sound, we become aware — and through imaginative insight we can become fully aware — that sound, as we experience it, even in all its beauty in our musical creations, in the earthly, sensual world, it lives only as a banished being, a being that has been pushed down from the higher regions, where it has its true existence, where it is rooted and lives, into the denser air within which we perceive it through the human organization. The world of sound appears to us as if in exile when we perceive it with an external physical organ. And it is in exile. For when we discover the sounding, the lawfully sounding through imagination, then we become immersed in the etheric world, in an ever more spiritual and spiritual world; we become immersed in a world in which the sounding is no longer in exile, in which the sounding is in its very own element.

Yes, my dear attendees, you can learn to recognize sound as twofold. You can learn to recognize it in its banishment in the air with its vibrations, and you can learn to recognize it through the world of imaginations in its own region. When we get to know it in its spiritual region itself, then we see at the same time how the human organism with its internal organs is built out of this element of sounding, out of this element of world harmonies and world melodies, and we get an idea of the innermost nature of the human organism. We learn to recognize how our organs, lungs and so on are formed out of the choruses of the world, how our whole organization is a result of the sounding of the world, and we now understand why the artistic creation of music touches us so deeply inwardly, why many people associate the artistic creation of music with the immediate human inner life, while they associate the other arts more with the outer contemplation. That which our innermost humanity has otherwise formed out of the cosmos, we disassemble in the resonance of musical art creation. What is expressed in the musical work of art is the human being himself, with the innermost secrets of his sustenance. And one then learns to understand how the sound, in its exile, has a peculiar relationship to the human being. Just consider, my dear audience: the air that is set in vibration by the exiled sound, we breathe it in, we breathe it out again. It is not through this inhaling and exhaling that the human being is created in his organization, nor are the human organs built out of the cosmos; they are only maintained more. In our breathing process, we have a tinting, an imitation of what is contained in the depths of the world's existence.

Take that which our organs can only receive from the air in order to sustain life, take that at its original source, which is precisely in the spiritual world, and you have that which not only can sustain these organs – like the breath – you have that which creates these organs. Just as our breath, in its sustaining power for our organs, relates to the supersensible world from which our organs are created, so the banished sound of the world of tones relates to the world into which we ascend through imagination and through the inspiration that leads us to an understanding of breathing and of what I have just hinted at, and what lies behind breathing. And in this realm, where the sounding world has its true essence, lies the musician's unconscious inspiration. Imagination and inspiration penetrate into those regions from which the forces that inspire the musician to create his works are effective. It is the world of the spiritual from which art is born. It is the world of the spiritual that we enter through anthroposophical world knowledge.

The situation is different and yet similar with the art of human language, with poetry. Unlike the musical element, poetry is not inwardly connected with what one sees; but in a certain way it is connected with what is possible progress for the human being, with his possible development. And just as the human being grasps the soul in the world of colors, he grasps the spiritual in the human being in the imagined and inspired world of sounds. And so he experiences in language how those spiritual forces work down from above, directing human progress, human evolution.

And when we learn to recognize how the spiritual tone, banished down into the earthly air, creates its tools through the breath, when we learn to recognize how the tone, trained in a lower region to become one-sided, the breath creates for itself the ear, the ear's organization as a companion organ, then one also learns to recognize the anatomical-physiological connection between the respiratory and auditory systems, which plays such a great role in biology.

But from there one can also ascend to the realization of how the active and passive human speech element creatively participates in the development of the human being itself, and one learns to understand how the poet, who is truly artistic, language, which is connected with the external, to rhythm, meter, to musical or pictorial composition, in order to lead the prosaic element of language back to that which lies deeper than the word calculated for earthly life. The poet wants to lead the word, calculated for earthly life, back to that which can correspond to the word “supernatural” through its rhythms, through its rhyming, through alliteration and assonance, through the thematic. I would like to say that the poet wrestles in the realm of the soul with the problem that nature has solved in man by making the respiratory organism the vehicle of what lives unconsciously in man as his organization, which is formed out of the creative tone of the world. The poet goes through this process, and I would say that it is only shorter, but he goes through it. He tries to lead back to the word in the spirit what is in exile in the word. This can only happen through rhythm, through speech treatment and so on.

And when one becomes acquainted with the human organization and its relationship to the world in the most diverse fields in this way, then one gradually forms an intuitive view of the human organization as a whole, and then one tries to penetrate down to that central power which underlies all human expression of life and also of the senses. And this penetration down to this central power, which is the

• will, is attempted through the art of eurythmy, through that art which seeks to bring the whole human being as a will-being to direct sensory perception.

What the human being experiences inwardly can be expressed in his outer movements down to the smallest detail. And if art must seek its ideal in contemplating a spiritual element in the observation of the sensual, and never to contemplate the spiritual in abstraction, but always to have it before it in sensual revelation, then this revelation is most intensively accommodated by the art of eurythmy. For that which stands before us, the spiritual-soul human being, everything that fills the spiritual-soul human being at the moment of his appearance as a eurythmist, everything that lives spiritually and soulfully in his soul, should pass over into outward, sensually perceptible movement. The spiritual and soul life, the non-pictorial, should become fully pictorial. But no pictorial or sensual aspect is present in such a person performing eurythmy that is not simultaneously imbued and permeated by soul and spiritual experience. All sensual activity is permeated by spirit; everything that wants to reveal itself spiritually does not remain in abstract form, but is expressed in sensual revelation. One must first acquire a feeling for the living, for the directly spiritual, which has anthroposophical knowledge as its subject, then one will learn to think differently about the relationship between artistic experience and anthroposophy than one rightly thinks about the relationship between artistic experience and an aesthetic science that only creates from dead ideas.

Precisely during the heyday of this science, while it was developing, art lost its inner sources and became more or less content with speaking of something unreal. And hardly anyone understands, I would say, tragic world sighs like Goethe's: When nature begins to reveal its apparent mystery to someone, that person has the deepest yearning for its most worthy interpreter, art. That art has a place in the world of truth, in the world of reality, but a reality that cannot be reached with ordinary science, that can only be reached with anthroposophically oriented science, is something that will hopefully be felt gradually. Then people will feel that art and artistic experience, which are so urgently needed today because they have been lost in a scientific approach limited to the external, can receive inspiration, living inspiration, from the inner life, from the formative life, from that which finds the experience of thought itself on its way and which is sought through anthroposophical spiritual science.

If the artistic world, in contrast to a science that today itself requires a deepening in accordance with the spirit, has felt and experienced that it cannot justify itself as a creation of the imagination before that which such a science recognizes as the truly real, then in the future, people will understand what a real artist like Goethe, who was also a real thinker, meant when he said that art is not just a fantasy, but that a true work of art is a truthful representation of the secrets of the world.

And if we understand the relationship between art and anthroposophy, we will also recognize how this relationship can help art to emerge from a certain tragic situation, from the situation in which science fundamentally denies art its right to exist in reality, and in which, when art engages with science, it can only speak in such a way that the artist must reject it. Art and science will enter into a different relationship when there will be a science that will prove, precisely through its own existence, that art is a genuine citizen in the full reality of the world, that art is not merely a product of unreal fantasy, but that art is the great interpreter of the deepest secrets of the world. I believe that the person who does not strive for knowledge through revelation, but through the conquest of the secrets of the world, will be touched by this new relationship between science and art from the bottom of his or her heart.