According to this division, all that imparts to mankind something new, achieved by an artist’s stress of feeling and thought, is a work of art. But that this mental activity should really have the importance people attach to it, it is necessary that it should contribute what is good to humanity, for it is evident that to a new evil, to a new temptation leading people into evil, we cannot attribute the value given to art as to something that benefits mankind. The importance, the value, of art consists in widening man’s outlook, in increasing the spiritual wealth that is humanity’s capital.
Therefore, though a work of art must always include something new, yet the revelation of something new will not always be a work of art. That it should be a work of art, it is necessary:
(1) That the new idea, the content of the work, should be of importance to mankind.
(2) That this content should be expressed so clearly that people may understand it.
(3) That what incites the author to work at his production should be an inner need and not an external inducement.
And therefore that will not be a work of art in which no new thing is disclosed; and that which has for its content what is insignificant and therefore unimportant to man will not be a work of art, however intelligibly it may be expressed and even if the author has worked at it sincerely from an inner impulse. Nor will that be a work of art which is so expressed as to be unintelligible however sincere may be the author’s relation to it; nor that which has been produced by its author not from an inner impulse but for an external aim, however important may be its content and however intelligible its expression.
That is a work of art which discloses something new and at the same time in some degree satisfies the three conditions: content, form, and sincerity.
And here we come to the problem of how to define that lowest degree of content, beauty, and sincerity, which a production must possess to be a work of art.
To be a work of art it must, in the first place, be a thing which has for its content something hitherto unknown but of which man has need; secondly, it must show this so intelligibly that it becomes generally accessible; and thirdly, it must result from the author’s need to solve an inner doubt.
A work in which all three conditions are present even to a slight degree, will be a work of art; but a production from which even one of them is absent will not be a work of art.
But it will be said that every work contains something needed by man, and every work will be to some extent intelligible, and that an author’s relation to every work has some degree of sincerity. Where is the limit of needful content, intelligible expression, and sincerity of treatment? A reply to this question will be given us by a clear perception of the highest limit to which art may attain: the opposite of the highest limit will show the lowest limit, dividing all that cannot be accounted art from what is art. The highest limit of content is such as is always necessary to all men. That which is always necessary to all men is what is good or moral.[21] The lowest limit of content, consequently, will be such as is not needed by men, and is a bad and immoral content. The highest limit of expression will be such as is always intelligible to all men. What is thus intelligible is that which has nothing in it obscure, superfluous, or indefinite, but only what is clear, concise, and definite,--what is called beautiful. Conversely, the lowest limit of expression will be such as is obscure, diffuse, and indefinite,--that is to say formless. The highest limit of the artist’s relation to his subject will be such as evokes in the soul of all men an impression of reality--the reality not so much of what exists, as of what goes on in the soul of the artist. This impression of reality is produced by truth only; and therefore the highest relation of an author to his subject is _sincerity_. The lowest limit, conversely, will be that in which the author’s relation to his subject is not genuine, but false. All works of art lie between these two limits.
A perfect work of art will be one in which the content is important and significant to all men, and therefore it will be _moral_. The expression will be quite clear, intelligible to all, and therefore _beautiful_; the author’s relation to his work will be altogether sincere, and heartfelt, and therefore _true_. Imperfect works, but still works of art, will be such productions as satisfy all three conditions though it be but in unequal degree. That only will be no work of art, in which either the content is quite insignificant and unnecessary to man, or the expression quite unintelligible, or the relation of the author to the work is quite insincere. In the degree of perfection attained in each of these respects lies the difference in quality between all true works of art. Sometimes the first predominates, sometimes the second, and sometimes the third.
All the remaining imperfect productions fall naturally, according to the three fundamental conditions of art, into three chief kinds: 1) those which stand out by the importance of their content, 2) those which stand out by their beauty of form, and 3) those which stand out by their heartfelt sincerity. These three kinds all yield approximations to perfect art and are inevitably produced wherever there is art.
Thus among young artists heartfelt sincerity chiefly prevails, coupled with insignificance of content and more or less beauty of form. Among older artists, on the contrary, the importance of the content often predominates over beauty of form and sincerity. Among laborious artists beauty of form predominates over content and sincerity.
All works of art may be appraised by the prevalence in them of the first, the second, or the third quality, and they may all be subdivided into 1) those that have content and are beautiful, but have little sincerity; 2) those that have content, but little beauty and little sincerity; 3) those that have little content, but are beautiful and sincere, and so on, in all possible combinations and permutations.
All works of art, and in general all the mental activities of man, can be appraised on the basis of these three fundamental qualities; and they have been and are so appraised.
The differences in valuation have resulted, and do result, from the extent of the demand presented to art by certain people at a certain time in regard to these three conditions.
So for instance in classical times the demand for significance of content was much higher, and the demand for clearness and sincerity much lower than they subsequently became, especially in our time. The demand for beauty became greater in the Middle Ages, but on the other hand the demand for significance and sincerity became lower; and in our time the demand for sincerity and truthfulness has become much greater, but on the other hand the demand for beauty, and especially for significance, has been lowered.