As a Marxist, Walter Benjamin is interested in how works of art are shaped and influenced by the economic base in capitalist society. Conversely, he investigates how works of art may be tools for shaping or changing the economy. One striking feature of capitalism that Marx notes is that it spurs technological innovation. As corporations and entrepreneurial individuals search for a competitive edge, they develop new technologies in order to become more efficient or to create new products.

 

The technological innovation that Benjamin is interested in is the camera. Film and photography relate to art in two ways. Firstly, photographs allow for the reproduction and mass distribution of existing artworks and secondly, movies and photographs can be artistic objects in their own rights.

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The aura 

Benjamin argues that film and photography have the potential to fundamentally change the relationship between art and its audience. In this sense, he locates in reproducible artworks a revolutionary potential which is absent in traditional works of art.

 

Prior to photography, the authenticity of a work of art resided in its uniqueness. The vast majority of artworks were singular and the only way to see them was to physically go to a gallery, museum, church or exhibition space. For example, before photography, anyone wishing to see the Mona Lisa would need to travel to Paris and buy a ticket for the Louvre where they would see the one and only item in the world which could be said to be the authentic Mona Lisa. 

 

The singularity of these sorts of artworks gives them what Benjamin calls an “aura.” By this, he means something like the power that an artwork exerts over its viewer, on account of its special status as a unique object. He observes that the aura creates a sense of distance from the viewer. No matter how close one gets to the Mona Lisa, the work holds itself apart as an object of contemplation. 

 

Benjamin traces the power of aura back to a time when artworks had what he calls a “cult value.” In prehistoric times, he speculates, works of art were magical objects used in rituals. The auratic work is therefore a fetishistic object, endowed with supernatural powers. Traces of this status survive to contemporary times. To view the Mona Lisa, people still have to participate in the ritual of visiting an art gallery and waiting for a turn to look at the venerated object. Viewing it may even amount to a spiritual experience.

 

As a Marxist, Benjamin objects to the relations between auratic artworks and the viewer. The power that an auratic work exerts over the viewer mirrors and affirms the power of the owning classes over the masses. The magical power of the artwork could also be said to match the deep and irrational veneration that dictators hold in the eyes of the public. Although these connections are not explicitly made, Benjamin points us towards a political reading of the essay in the preface, stating that “the concepts which are introduced into the theory of art in what follows differ from the more familiar terms in that they are completely useless for the purposes of fascism.” In other words, all of the features of mechanically reproducible works of art that we are about to explore should also be understood as being anti fascist.

 

Mechanical reproduction engenders a radical change in the status of the artwork. Benjamin states: “that which withers in the age of mechanical reproduction is the aura of the work of art.” In other words, photographs and movies have a greatly diminished sense of aura. This is an effect of mass production.  

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Firstly, the mechanically reproduced work of art is no longer unique. A specific photograph is the same as any number of other copies. Secondly, there is no original work of art; no copy can be said to be the uniquely authentic version. And thirdly, mass produced art is no longer found only in a specific location. 

Instead, as Benjamin notes, it “meet[s] the beholder halfway.” By this he means that viewers can access artworks in print form without having to leave their homes. To see a movie, they need only go as far as their local cinema. Where works of art had once been unique and permanent, they are now reproducible and transitory. Consequently, they appear “closer” to the viewer.

 

This change in the means of production of the artwork leads to a change in the relation between it and the viewer. No longer must art be venerated from a subservient position. Instead, the viewer is empowered to consider art on his or her own terms. Rather than being absorbed by a work of art, it is the viewers who absorb film. So instead of being in awe of a work of art which may be overwhelming or baffling – a grand monument to the undeniable genius of the artist – , the viewer in the cinema feels more like a critic. Through absorbing films, audiences are able to form opinions about the quality of the artwork and hence exert a critical power over the film.

 

Finally, mass produced artworks can be simultaneously viewed by vast numbers of people. Coupled with the idea that they are in a newly empowered position, this mass audience can be seen as a potential political grouping. This collective is the sort of political organization that Marxists like Benjamin strive for. Not only is it composed of the disempowered members of society, but it is without a single leader and therefore incompatible with fascism.

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Perception

Benjamin also argues that cinema and photography are instruments of perception. The machinery of the camera allows people to see the world in a new way.

 

Switching back to Marxist theory for a moment, we recall that Marxists are critical of artworks which create a false impression of economic reality. One of the contradictions of capitalism is that workers and owners are placed in an oppositional relationship. Much art under capitalism obscures or smooths over this contradiction, however. Marxists therefore are interested in art which reveals these contradictions. For Marxists, one of the purposes of art is to disabuse people of their false consciousness and to reveal the real nature of social relations under capitalism.

 

Benjamin sees in film the potential to reveal previously concealed truths about society under capitalism. He writes:

 

Our taverns and our metropolitan streets, our offices and furnished rooms, our railroad stations and our factories appeared to have us locked up hopelessly. Then came the film and burst this prison-world asunder by the dynamite of the tenth of a second, so that now, in the midst of its far-flung ruins and debris, we calmly and adventurously go traveling. With the close-up, space expands; with slow motion, movement is extended.

 

Everyday perception maintains the social status quo. The world appears in such a way that any alternative organization of social relations seems impossible. Yet images presented in film can allow the viewer to see the world anew and in a potentially revolutionary manner. Specifically, Benjamin references the use of slow motion and close-up as two new modes of seeing.

 

He claims that slow motion footage is not just a way of seeing something familiar, only slower. Instead, it presents the world in a new and unfamiliar manner, with the potential to reveal new aspects of the everyday. Benjamin observes:

 

The act of reaching for a lighter or a spoon is familiar routine, yet we hardly know what really goes on between hand and metal, not to mention how this fluctuates with our moods.

 

Benjamin points out that slow motion film will uncover aspects of life which are not apparent to the naked eye. He is pointing to the potential for new knowledge about the world which for him is essential for political change. Equally, a close up is not simply an enlargement of something already visible, but it “reveals new structural formations of the subject.” Film will allow us to know ourselves differently and has the potential to reveal the hidden and oppressive forces which comprise subjectivity.

 

With analogy to psychoanalysis, Benjamin theorizes that “the camera introduces us to an unconscious optics.” Just as Freud’s The Psychopathology of Everyday Life (1901) focuses our attention on previously unnoticed elements of behavior such as jokes, mistakes and forgettings, so Benjamin observes that cinema opens the viewer to all manner of previously unseen elements of the world. In short, the technology of film allows humans to see in a way never before possible. Benjamin believes that this new form of vision can reveal previously invisible elements of social life. In this sense, film trains the viewer to see the world differently. Gradually, though film, the human apparatus of perception will become more attuned to seeing elements of the world previously hidden. This new perception is a vital step towards overcoming capitalist ideology.

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Fascism

Benjamin returns to an explicitly political focus at the end of the essay. Here, he notes that film is not an inherently Marxist medium and has the potential to put into the service of fascism. The cult of the Fuhrer can be supported if film is used to produce ritual values. He warns that the inevitable outcome of this is war. Benjamin will have been aware of Leni Riefenstahl’s Nazi propaganda films which explicitly promote fascism.

 

“The Work of Art in the Age of Its Technical Reproducibility” is Benjamin’s attempt to develop a “materialist theory of art.” That is, he attempts to theorize how art is influenced by real economic conditions and relations. Benjamin observes that the mass production of art has significant political ramifications. Primarily, through losing its aura, art becomes a less useful tool for the ruling classes and has the potential to foment radical political change.