Volume 13, Number 2 (July 2016)

Joanna Straczowski
(Doctoral student, Department of Philosophy, Liverpool Univeristy, UK)
The Sublime Perfection of Machine Produced Art
I. Introduction
The overarching question of this paper is: Do computer generated and
machine produced artworks, which are perfected to the highest degree and
with the utmost precision, have the capacity to generate a feeling of the
sublime? In his book The Inhuman, Jean-François Lyotard claims that, during
the 20th century, the arts have given up their pursuit of beauty and replaced it
with a pursuit of something that “has to do with the sublime” (1992: 135). He
describes a shift in modern art leading away from the attempts to represent
the beautiful, as it has been promoted in the curricula and programmes of art
schools and academies in previous centuries (ibid: 90-91), towards a sublime
sentiment which is emblematic for the works of 20th century avant-garde
artists and which opposes the harmonizing qualities of the beautiful. Lyotard’s
theory of the sublime, much like other theories on the sublime sentiment,
focuses on the relation between materiality and immateriality (Shaw, 2006:
130). The role that techne occupiesin the artistic process of creation is of
importance here, as it draws on precisely this interrelation of immaterial and
material matter. After claiming that the feeling of sublimity stands in contrast to
the notion of techne and the perfection it aims for, Lyotard then continues to
argue that the sublime can only present itself by means of imperfection,
incompletion and error (1992: 95). Yet, since an increasing number of
contemporary artworks, e.g. in Digital Art, New Media Art and machine
produced art, does not allow for errors, accidents, incompletions and
imperfections during the process of creation, Lyotard’s theory that the sublime
stands in contrast to techne’s perfection seems to deny these artworks any
capacity to elicit sublimity. On the contrary, one would have to assume that the
sublime sentiment is lost in most of contemporary art.
I argue however that that Lyotard’s theory of the sublime and its relation

to technefails to account for the sublimity that lies in the drive for perfectionism

and in the notion of perfection itself, which is so characteristically visualized in

the production of art by means of digital technology and computer controlled

machines. I contend that the sublime can also present itself
when techne allows for the illusion of perfection to be carried to its extremes.
By drawing on Jean Baudrillard's theories of simulation, illusion and seduction,
I argue that sublimity arises when mechanically or digitally produced objects
appear as perfect, or even as ‘too perfect’. Such objects entirely escape our
mind’s capacities of determination, which gives rise to a mixed feeling of
pleasure and pain. Furthermore, I will continue to argue that parallels can be
drawn between Baudrillard’s concept of seduction and Lyotard’s later account

of the sublime Thing. Just like the Thing is described as an elusive,

indeterminable, unpresentable presence that lies within the limits of the

material and which always escapes our mind’s determination, seduction, too,

is an ever evasive presence that escapes discourse and representation. The

seductive power that is engendered by the illusion of perfection reached within

the limits of materiality lends seemingly perfect objects the capacity to elicit

the sublime. For, as Baudrillard argues, our ‘mania for perfection’ not only
drives us to the limits of our own existence but it also seemingly exceeds them

(1994: 101), thus bringing forth the liminal experience of the sublime sentiment

through the illusion of perfection. To illustrate and further substantiate my

claims, I will refer to the work Balloon Venus by American Pop Artist Jeff

Koons as an example. Koons’ art, I argue, exemplifies not only the results that
can be achieved once the drive for perfection meets the new possibilities that
technology opens up within the realm of the arts, his works also allow for the

illusion of perfection to draw the spectator beyond the limits of beauty, beyond
the pleasure principle, thus allowing for a sublime experience due to
seemingly achieved perfection.
II. Techne and the sublime

i) Lyotard’s sublime

The term ‘sublime’ has its origin in the Latin language in which the prefix ‘sub’
stands for ‘up to’ and ‘limen’ for ‘boundary’ or ‘limit’ (Shaw, 2006: 1). In other
words, ‘sublime’ literally translates into ‘up to the limit’. The first time the
concept was mentioned in a written treatise, was in Peri Hupsos (On the
Sublime) by the Greek critic Longinus (ibid: 4). It is of interest to note that, in
his text Longinus had not yet distinguished the beautiful and the sublime from

each other (Han, 2015: 25). This clear separation between the two aesthetic

categories emerged later in the modern aesthetics of Burke and Kant (ibid: 26-
29). Since then, the sublime is seen in contrast to the beautiful and

understood as a simultaneous feeling of pleasure and pain, or pleasure

deriving from pain, which arises when we are confronted with an experience

that lies beyond our conventional capability of understanding (Shaw, 2006: 2).

The beautiful, in contrast, is generally thought to have a merely harmonizing

and pleasing effects on the subject. While the feeling of beauty can be

described as somewhat comforting and reassuring, the sublime disrupts our

minds free play of capacities.

Edmund Burke describes the sublime as a kind of terror that arises with the

anxiety of impending death, only to be relieved by the fact that we are still
alive (Lyotard, 1992: 99) and Lyotard similarly refers to it as a ‘death like’ or
‘as good as dead’ experience to our mind’s faculties (ibid: 100). While, in The

Philosophical Enquiry Into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and
Beautiful, Burke generally believes that it is possible to single out objective
attributes of the sublime, Immanuel Kant’s theory eventually denies that the
material object itself possesses any sublime qualities (Majetschak, 2007: 251).

Kant’s focus is entirely on the immaterial subjective feeling of sublimity and on

our mind’s capacity to rise above nature by way of reason, thus giving us a
reassuring feeling after the initial shock of nature’s overpowering might (Kant,
2011: 135-136). Postmodern theories about the sublime, on the other hand,
have a tendency to focus on the relation between material and immaterial
matter (Shaw, 2006: 130). The paradox that always arises is that the sublime
is essentially considered to be something that is unpresentable and

immaterial; yet, especially concerning the creation of art, the way matter is

treated in terms of techne plays a crucial role in regard to whether or not

aesthetic effects, such as the sublime, can be evoked. After all, the arts

generally rely on representation and the use of various materials in one way or
another.

It is precisely this relation between artistic techne, materiality and immateriality

that Lyotard is concerned with in his book The Inhuman. In the chapter on
‘The Sublime and the Avant-Garde’, he argues that imperfections and

distortions in artistic technique may contribute to the shock effect which is the

sublime (1992: 97). Perfection of artistic techne, however, stands in the way of
sublimity, he writes: “Shortcomings in technique are therefore trifling matters if

they are the price to be paid for ‘true grandeur’” (ibid: 95). Lyotard then
continues: “The kind of perfection that can be demanded in the domain
of techne isn’t necessarily a desirable attribute when it comes to the sublime

feeling” (ibid). Therefore, it would seem that, from Lyotard’s perspective, the
striving for perfection within artistic endeavors and the techniques and
procedures used in such processes, stand in contrast to the indeterminacy
and disruption that is necessary for the sublime to present itself. But before

focusing on what Lyotard’s theory implies with regard to new media art and
digital design, it is essential to address the question: What is techne?
The term techne originates from ancient Greek and generally refers to a skill
or craft (Parry, 2014). Techne can be described as “production according to
the rule” and as “organized knowledge and procedure applied for the purpose
of producing a specific preconceived result” (Osborne, 1981: 8) which has,
since ancient Greece, in fact been associated with the notion of perfection

(ibid). The term encompasses the fine arts just as much as the practical arts,

craftsmanship and other professional activities (Plato, 2007: 14-

15). Techne “cover[s] any skilled activity with its rules of operation, the

knowledge of which is acquired by training“ (ibid). Therefore, it can be

understood as a rule for the creation of objects with the expectation of a not

only determinate but also perfected outcome which is comprehensible to our

cognitive faculties. In other words, techne is the treatment of any given

material to achieve a perfected result (from tangible materials like wood, stone

and paint to non-tangible material like language and sound). Yet, is the

outcome achieved through techne truly always one that is comprehensible to

our mind? And, can the perfection that techne supposedly aims for actually

ever be attained?

It is undeniably true that beauty and the striving for perfection

through technehave been a the main pursuit of the fine arts. Admittedly, if it is
true that technealways brings forth determinate, perfected, cognitively
comprehensible outcomes, it really seems contrary to the indeterminacy and
the disturbance of the mind that is required for sublimity. As we have seen,
this is exactly what Lyotard argues when he states that the perfection
of techne does not lend itself for evoking the sublime sentiment. The kind of
perfection that the completion of an artwork achieves through the final
finishing, leaves no room for our imagination to be overwhelmed with
something unexpected and disturbing. A perfected artwork conveys a sense
of comprehensibility of that which is represented, thus it is not challenging our

mind’s capacities. While art schools teach how to achieve perfection

through techne as well as the ‘standards’ of beauty and taste, the sublime is,
according to Lyotard, nothing that can be taught or that can be created by

means of techne. It rather disrupts beauty’s harmonizing effects, only

presenting itself by means of imperfection and error (Lyotard, 1992: 96) and

by shocking us to a point of a ‘death like’ experience. Following this line of

thought, if imperfection and incompletion, as opposed to techne and

perfection, are really the only way to allow art to elicit sublimity, then surely

artists who seeks to evoke it, should not aim at finishing their work or at

finalizing the treatment of the material. They should rather allow for her
artwork to stay in an ‘indeterminate state’, letting matter speak for itself.

With this in mind, Lyotard’s theory of the sublime nevertheless falls short of
explaining any sublime experiences evoked by machine produced art. His
theory seems to suggest that such artworks do not have the capacity to elicit

any sublime sentiments at all. For whenever art is created by means of

industrial production, it becomes impossible for the artist to stop before the
final finishing. This is undoubtedly the case with artworks such as
Koons’ Ballon Venus. As an enormous balloon-like figure with a shiny, candy-

gloss pink colour and voluptuous curves, the sculpture inarguably stands in
contrast to Lyotard’s notion of sublime effects raised by imperfectionand
incompletion of an artwork. The mechanized procedure guarantees the full
completion of the object and the finalized treatment of matter. Accidents and
errors are thus eliminated. Moreover, the representation of a balloon figure is
in itself nothing unfamiliar or shocking (we have all been to fun fairs and
children’s birthday parties). Koons’ art may therefore seem to be the least

likely candidate to be referred to in matters of the elevated feeling of the

sublime. Nevertheless, I claim that the Balloon Venus does evoke sublime
sentiments. Precisely due to its apparent perfection, which leaves no trace of

a human process of creation, it challenges our capacity to fully comprehend

and make sense of what we see. It is true that, due to its bright colours and its

kitschy theme, the Balloon Venus might seem playful and beautiful at first

sight. Yet, the sensation that arises when confronted with such highly
‘perfected’ sculptures is one that is simultaneously enjoyable and yet deeply

irritating and even terrifying.

Furthermore, as previously mentioned, Lyotard claims that: “The kind of

perfection that can be demanded in the domain of techne isn’t necessarily a

desirable attribute when it comes to the sublime feeling” [my emphasis] (1992:
95). However, does the word ‘necessarily’ not have a relativizing effect on
Lyotard’s statement? Does it not suggest that there might be exceptions and

that, although perfection of techne might not be the most likely way for eliciting
sublime feelings, it might not be a hindrance either? If that is the case then it
would allow a possibility of sublimity despite, or maybe even because of, the
perfected treatment of artistic material. It seems as if Lyotard himself did not

rule out that the perfection of techne may hold the capacity of generating
sublime sentiments. And still, where does this leave us with regard to artworks
that are mechanically produced? And, what exactly can perfected techne bring
forth? Is it really ‘just’ beauty that can be evoked by means of techne and
perfection? Here, it is helpful to focus on Lyotard’s account of sublime
materiality/immateriality as it is proposed in his chapter on ‘After the Sublime’.
I argue that Lyotard’s theory of the postmodern sublime as the

sublime Thing, in fact, allows for a further development of my theory of

sublime perfection and the seductive power of perfect illusions. In order to

elaborate on this, it is now necessary to take a closer look at Lyotard’s chapter

on ‘After the Sublime’.

ii) Lyotard’s ‘After the Sublime’

In the chapter ‘After the Sublime’, Lyotard claims that ever since the 20th

century and the height of modernism the arts are not so much concerned with
the pursuit of beauty anymore, but with something which “has to do with the

sublime” (1992: 135). Considering this tendency he argues that, since the

sublime is impossible to depict and since the arts are always concerned with
representation by means of form and matter, art must address itself towards

the latter (ibid: 138). Lyotard then continues to describe the sublime as an
immaterial matter which is “an event of a passion, a passibility for which the
mind will not have been prepared” (ibid: 141). Lyotard names this sublime,

immaterial presence the Thing: “The paradox of art ‘after the sublime‘ is that it
turns towards a thing which does not turn towards the mind, that it wants a
thing, or has it in for a thing which wants nothing of it. […] By matter, I
mean the Thing. The Thing is not waiting to be destined, it is not waiting for

anything, it does not call on the mind” (ibid: 142)

First of all, in my view, the ‘after’ in ‘after the sublime’ should not be read as a
temporal marker. It rather seems to stand for an ‘after’ as in ‘being after
someone’. Yet, being after something or someone does not imply that you can
get a hold of whatever it is you are trying to catch. According to Lyotard, art is
‘after the sublime’, after this Thing, this immaterial matter, which nevertheless

always escapes our mind’s determination (ibid: 140). The sublime Thing is

therefore something that art seeks to get hold of but which always escapes it.
It seems as if our attempts to get a hold of the ungraspable, indeterminable

and ever elusive Thing are haunting us. In fact, Lyotard insists that it is
impossible not to pursue the Thing, when he states: “One cannot get rid of the

Thing. Always forgotten, it is unforgettable” (ibid: 143).

Yet, what exactly is this immaterial/material Thing? What precisely does

Lyotard mean when he says that the Thing is a presence within matter but

seemingly without form? On the one hand, Lyotard clearly denies that it is the

actual material object that is sublime, on the other hand,

the Thing nevertheless presents itself in the inherent qualities of the artistic

material, such as nuances and timbres within colours and sounds (ibid: 139).
The sublime Thing is therefore ‘material’ in as far as it cannot exist without
matter, yet it is immaterial in as far as it is a an indeterminable presence which

escapes our mind’s determination. These indeterminable qualities (nuances,

timbres, etc.) are immaterial because they are an event in our mind, a strange
sensation for which we are not prepared and which cannot be fully
comprehended; and yet, they are material because they are inherent within

the material used by the artist (ibid: 140). In addition, they are only
perceivable, if we are in a ‘mindless state of mind’, in which our power of mind
is suspended and the negotiating process between our mind’s faculties is
stopped (ibid: 139). The fact that theThing is indeterminable to our cognitive
faculty is what evokes a shock event in our mind. Yet, at the same time we are
deriving pleasure from it because we feel that it alludes to something that lies
beyond the limitations of materiality. Still, what role does techne play in this?

Again, the treatment of the material must be crucial if it is matter that holds the

key to allowing the sublime Thing to come forth.

While Lyotard does explain what is necessary for the audience to possibly

experience such sublime events, namely that one must be in an ascetic

‘mindless state of mind’, this time he does however not specifically address

the role of techne. This is understandable, since he thinks that eliciting the

sublime cannot be taught and does not follow a prescribed process. Still,
Lyotard curiously does suggest that in order to evoke the Thing within the

material a very specific treatment of matter is nevertheless necessary. Here

he refers to a short sentence from Paul Cézanne’s letters, which he quotes as

follows: “Form is finished when colour reaches perfection” (ibid: 141).

Following this quote Lyotard then goes on to explain how the application of the
material, in this case colour, is not a filling out of a predetermined form but
rather a careful application of one ‘touch’ of colour after the other (ibid). Form

is of secondary importance in this process once the material alludes

towards perfection. Yet, why does Lyotard quote this passage, after previously
being so careful to separate the notion of perfection, usually associates
with techne, from the sublime? Does it not imply that the

sublime Thing presents itself, if a notion of perfection is introduced by means

of the treatment of the artistic material, i.e. if the artist gets the treatment of the
material ‘just right’/‘just perfect’? This leads to the question: Is the perfection
achieved through, or at least aimed for, by means of techne after all
something that goes beyond our understanding of a ‘production according to
the rule’? Following this line of thought perfection would not just be a
‘determined outcome’ achieved by the application of a specific process

of techne. It could then be understood as something that we desire but that is

elusive, indeterminate and always out of reach, but which can nevertheless be
evoked and alluded to within the limitations of the material by means

of techne. Perfection would then be another name for the Thing.

In order to show how precisely perfection evokes sublimity, I will now turn to

Baudrillard’s theories and his writings on simulation, illusion, seduction and the

‘mania for perfection’. I argue that the seemingly perfected treatment of artistic
material leads us further than mere representation, into an order of simulation,

in which we can encounter sublime illusions of perfection. I contend that the

desire for perfection is not only driving us to an apparent exceeding of limits,

of both mind and matter, thus evoking a sublime ‘death like’ or ‘as good as

dead’ shock experience, but that the sheer indeterminacy of the notion of
perfection and its unrepresentability are further prerequisites for the sublime.
Ultimately, I claim that parallels can be drawn between Lyotard’s

sublime Thing and Baudrillard’s account of a seductive illusion of perfection.

III. The illusion of perfection
i) Baudrillard’s theory of simulation, illusion and seduction

Now the question is how exactly perfection can evoke sublimity? Or, how can

a seemingly perfect object terrify and yet please us at the same time? The
answer lies, I claim, in the very impossibility to reach perfection and our
nevertheless endless obsession with it. The role that new technologies play
with regard to the illusion of achieving perfection is crucial, since it is their
employment which allows us to treat matter in such a way that the illusion of
perfection presents itself. In order to explain in what way the appearance of
perfection is sublime, I will first draw on Baudrillard’s concepts of illusion and

seduction, within the order of simulation. Then, I will examine Baudrillard’s

account of illusion and seduction within his theory of simulation, arguing that
the seductive power of illusions has sublime qualities and I will show in what

way the power of seduction, despite its striving to exceed simulation, always
perpetuates the creation of illusions and thus sustaining the very order it seeks

to overcome. Ultimately, I argue that Baudrillard’s account of seduction,

accompanying the creation of illusions, allows us not only to explain the

sublimity of perfection but also to draw parallels to the material, yet immaterial,

presence of Lyotard’s sublime Thing.

It is well known that Baudrillard claims that there is no real behind our world of
appearances. Our reality has always been in one way or another a system of

simulacra in which a profound real has either ceased to exist, or has possibly
never existed in the first place (Hegarty, 2004: 51). We can never actually
know unmediated reality, i.e. the real, all that can change is our perception of

the appearances around us which ultimately is our reality (ibid). As Baudrillard

explains in Simulacra and Simulation, this ‘loss of the real’ or rather ‘lack of
the real’ came about, in the succession of four phases of the image, which are
closely intertwined with one another and which relate to the changes taking

place within our perception of the world: ʺSuch would be the successive
phases of the image: it is the reflection of a profound reality; it masks and
denatures a profound reality; it masks the absence of a profound reality; it has
no relation to any reality whatsoever, it is its own pure simulacrum ʺ (1981: 6).
Each of these phases designates a state in which reality, as a point of
reference to the image, disappears gradually and is finally lost entirely, thus
leading to the phase of a pure simulacrum without any reference to an

‘original’ (Baudrillard, 1990: 171). Still, throughout all four of these phases, we

construct our world and make sense of it in a way as if to make up for this lack
of the real and we continue to presume a hidden truth behind the facade of

appearances. We give meaning to appearances that cannot present us with

actual, unmediated reality or a fundamental truth. However, as long as we

assume the existence of a fundamental truth that can possibly be revealed, we

are able to constrain an otherwise unbearable ambiguity of nothingness.

Nevertheless, it seems as if the more ‘profound reality’ disappears, or the

more we realize that there is nothing behind the mask, the more the real’s

non-existence is covered up by the creation of new simulations,

hypersimulations and the illusions that they generate.

As Paul Hegarty writes: “From the basic illusion of the world we move on to
create others deities, forces of nature, moral systems” (2004: 83) and we will

always continue to do so, because life would become unbearable if we were

really faced with the non-existence of truth (Baudrillard, 1990: 59). Yet, the
possibility of there not being anything, the possibility of an all encompassing

nothing, an ultimate, infinite void nevertheless fascinates us (ibid: 75). The

pure simulacrum, in which there is no relation between the image and reality
whatsoever, may have no recourse to truth and yet it seems to have an
enticing effect on us. Somewhat paradoxically, the order of simulation seems
to bring forth illusions which generate an excess of simulation itself, a creation
of even more simulacra in order to compensate for the unsolvable ‘mystery’ of
appearances (Hegarty, 2004: 68). In other words, there is something intrinsic
to the system of simulations that always attempts to exceed its own limitations.

This element is what Baudrillard calls: seduction (ibid).

Here it is necessary to examine what exactly Baudrillard means by illusion and

seduction and how these two terms can be differentiated. As we have seen,

since simulation has no relation to the real and truth, the only way to possibly
break through the order of simulation is by way of exceeding it through the

creation of hypersimulations, i.e. illusions (ibid: 82-83). Illusions offer meaning

to our existence and are necessary since meaninglessness seems to be truly

unbearable (ibid). Therefore, the creation of illusions is perpetual, self-

sustaining and impossible to get rid of. Fittingly, seduction, too, is unstoppable
and inevitable (Baudrillard, 1990: 84). Yet, while the order of simulation allows
for us to keep the world of appearances in check with our understanding,

seduction resists the confinements of simulation and escapes

comprehensibility. It is the part of simulation that literally seduces us to take
the limitation of our reality to the test. In other words, seduction is an an

excess of simulation and a constant threat to its existence, yet, “[f]or seduction
to occur an illusion must intervene” (ibid: 103). Thus, whenever seduction
occurs it is by means of an illusion, or hypersimulation, that already somewhat

disrupts the order of simulation. It appears as if it is then seduction that

challenges us to go further than simulation and strive for an abolition of
simulation from within simulation. Even seduction can however never entirely
overcome or exceed simulation because death always remains the final limit:
“[…] those who do not wish to seduce or be seduced are dead” (Baudrillard,
1990: 84). Therefore, even an excess of simulation, spurred by the seduction
of simulation, will not result in reaching a profound truth or reality which is

beyond the limitations of appearances. The ultimate limit of death remains

inescapable.

What is furthermore important to emphasize is that seduction is always a ‘two-

way-street’. To seduce is to be seduced and vice versa (ibid: 81). Or, as

Baudrillard puts it: “There is no active or passive mode in seduction, no

subject or object, no interior or exterior: seduction plays on both sides, and

there is no frontier separating them”, (ibid); and yet: “[t]he illusion that leads

from the one to the other is subtle” (ibid). While we may be under the illusion

of boundlessness and infinity when seducing or when being seduced, the

roles are never clear and the power subtly shifts between subject and object,
seducer and seduced, causing a kind of reciprocity that truly seems to blur the

boundaries of the subject/object relationship. This is why seduction possess

its disruptive power. Seduction generates pleasure and pain in as far as it
accompanies the illusion of boundless infinity and immortality, on the one

hand, and the final loss of control and mortality, on the other. This is what
lends illusions sublime qualities by way of seduction. In the case of perfection,
the illusion of perfection created by means of technology gives rise to a

seduction that not only proves to be a shock to our mind’s capacity of

understanding, i.e. the incapability to conceive of actual perfection, it also
seems as if the creation of such objects continuously challenges us to test the
limits of creation even further, in an attempt to possibly exceed them. Thus the
cycle of the creation of illusions and their seductive power perpetuates itself
and elicits sublimity whenever matter is treated in such a way that the
pleasure of the illusion of perfection and the pain of its ultimate impossibility

coincide. Now, as I have mentioned above, I argue that there are striking

parallels that can be drawn between the kind of sublime seduction of the
illusion of perfection and Lyotard’s Thing.

It is inarguably true that the illusion of perfection and its creation has always
played a key role in fundamental aspects of human life, like religion, sports,

politics and especially in the arts. The notion of not only perfecting ourselves

but also the desire to create ‘perfect’ objects, objects that are a result of our
striving for something that simultaneously attracts and haunts us, has

precisely the perpetuating effect that Baudrillard refers to with regard to the

seductive power of illusions. The advent of ever new technologies has

enabled us to enter a state of simulation in which it seems possible to make

perfection tangible and to thus unite the immaterial idea of perfection with the
material object. Even when assuming that real perfection does not exist, we
find ourselves all the more trapped in attempts to get closer to something that,

as Lyotard puts it “wants nothing of us” (1992: 124). We think we can attain
and grasp this ‘something’ by addressing matter itself, despite material
confinements, inadequacies and imperfections. Like Lyotard’s sublime Thing,
the illusion of being able to reach perfection, is impossible to get rid off.

However, we are constantly seduced by new appearances and our urge to

create new illusions is thus sustained, especially in the production of art.
When looking back at Lyotard’s account of the Thing, it is striking that his
description of an immaterial/material presence alludes precisely to an event,
an instance, in which the relation between the material and the immaterial is
blurred and in which our mind is unable to make sense of the occurrence. It is
however only through the material that an allusion towards infinity, towards the

ungraspable can be made. Hence, as much as the Thing alludes towards

something beyond the limitations of matter, it is relying on the material

limitations to be made perceivable. It is by means of techne, by means of

treating matter in a striving towards perfection, that the seemingly infinite and
indeterminate can present itself within the finite. In Seduction, Baudrillard

writes: “Seduction does not consist of a simple appearance, nor a pure

absence, but the eclipse of a presence. Its sole strategy is to be-there/not-

there, and thereby produce a sort of flickering, a hypnotic mechanism that

crystallizes attention outside all concern with meaning“ (ibid: 85). By likening

seduction to a flickering presence that is simultaneously there and not-there

and which ‘crystallizes attention outside all concern with meaning’,

Baudrillard’s description of seduction remarkably matches with Lyotard’s

theory of the sublime Thing as, as an elusive presence which wavers between
the material and the immaterial, the determined and the indeterminable,

something that belongs to neither the subject’s nor the object’s realm but is a
flickering presence sliding and shifting between the two. Just like
the Thing, seduction escapes all representation, it is essentially
unpresentable, and thus it escapes the process of meaning making and

discourse, thereby disrupting the negotiating process of our mind’s faculties

and allowing for the necessary suspension of the mind that Lyotard held
necessary for making the Thing perceivable. Ultimately, both seduction and
the Thing remain ever elusive and unattainable, but also unforgettable. Just
like seduction, the Thing, eludes our determination, thus also obtaining the
power of a meaningless signifier (ibid: 75). And, just as much as
Lyotard’s Thing is inescapable and unforgettable (1992: 143), Baudrillard’s

seduction, as that which does not produce meaning, “has every reason to be

never forgotten (1990: 75).

Seduction is this Thing that constantly lures you in and teases you to strive for

an abolition of death and for an exceeding of all limits to achieve immortality

and perfection. However, if ‘attained’, if it was truly made ‘tangible’,

the Thing would be annihilated. Really grasping the Thing always remains an

illusion and death and mortality remain the final limits even within simulation.
Hence, again, the seemingly infinite is always limited by the finite and the

infinity and indeterminacy of the sublime is only experienced within these

limits. Or, to put it in ‘Lyotardian’ words: the Thing is unattainable but within
the limits of the artistic material the sublime, immaterial matter will present

itself, if it alludes to something beyond matter, and if the illusion of having

reached perfection occurs. Then we believe to grasp something which wants
nothing of us and which eludes our mind’s determination.

Perfected techne, the idea that perfection can be achieved in art and through
human creations, is part of this illusion.
ii) The mania for perfection and Jeff Koons’ Balloon Venus

In this last section of my paper I finally want to reflect on the ‘mania for

perfection’ which Baudrillard claims has taken hold of society since the end of
the 20th century. This stands, I claim, in direct relation to the type of artworks
that have been emerging in the 20th and 21st century. Specifically sculptures
like Jeff Koons’ Balloon Venus present a typical example for this undeniable
tendency towards a technologised perfectionism. Just like Lyotard, who
notices a new tendency within the arts emerging during the 20th century,
Baudrillard, too, points out that something has shifted and our obsession with

perfection and immortality has found its realization in the objects we create.

I agree with both Baudrillard and Lyotard and their observation of a shift within
the artworld during the 20th century. While our mania for perfection and

‘perfect’ objects is arguably nothing new and a part of human nature in as far
as humans naturally seek to improve their lives and living conditions and strive

for innovation and progress, it is the way in which this obsession has become

more and more transparent and how it has taken on a certain obscenity which
is dazzling. The mania for perfection has arguably increased in intensity. This

is possible, of course, through the changed means of production and the

different ways in which we treat the materials at our disposal in order to create
art. The employment of techne has reached a level at which precise machines

and digital technologies make artworks seem almost ‘too perfect’ and at which
appearances of beauty are surpassed. Yet, once something appears as ‘too
beautiful’ or ‘too perfect’ it is not just pleasurable too look at, it also becomes

terrifying.
In The Illusion of the End, Baudrillard argues that he sees a development in
recent times towards ‘going to the end’, ‘exploiting all possibilities’ and
‘reaching all limits’ by ‘calling on all your resources’ (1994: 101 -102). He

describes our compulsion for and our fascination with immortality as a ‘mania
for perfection’, which is closely linked to the production of objects that are
finalized and completed to the highest degree by new technologies. These
objects, he claims, are not only the result of our striving for immortality and
perfection, they ultimately evoke the illusion of perfection and the illusion of
the abolition of death: ʺThis compulsive desire for immortality, for the definitive
immortality, revolves around a strange madness - the mania for what has

achieved its goal. The mania for identity - for saturation, completion,

repletion. For perfection too. The lethal illusion of perfection: hence these
objects from which wear and tear, death or aging have been eradicated by

technology. The compact disc. It doesn’t wear out, even if we use it. Terrifying,
this. It’s as though you never used it. It is as though you didn’t exist. If objects

no longer grow old when you touch them, you must be dead ʺ (ibid: 101). In

this passage it becomes once again clear that Baudrillard describes nothing
less than how the ‘mania for perfection’ is a mania for the sublime as a liminal

experience, an experience that is taking us quite literally to our limits (sub-

limen) and seemingly even beyond them. Today, the creation of artworks that
have a seductive power over us is made possible by machines and digital

design. Being confronted with such works, that neither show a sign of creation
nor a sign of deterioration, objects “from which wear and tear, death or aging
have been eradicated by technology” (ibid: 101), are a ‘death like’ experience

to our mind’s faculties. Thus we encounter an ‘If objects no longer grow old
when you touch them, you must be dead’-kind-of-shock, since we are not able
to bring the unpresentable (perfection) into the confinements of our limited
understanding.As mentioned before, whenever our mind is not able to grasp a

concept or to make sense of a representation, a feeling of pain arises when

faced with our shortcomings. Nevertheless, the fact that we are after all able
to, at least for an moment, feel something that is apparently beyond our mind’s
understanding is a source of pleasure. We want perfection and immortality.
These illusions give us pleasure but the realization that we will never be able
to attain perfection, since it is ultimately indeterminable, is painful.
Again, this kind of indeterminacy, a mix of pleasure and pain, is an integral

part of the sublime feeling. The illusion of perfection can however only be

created within the limits and determinations of material objects. This is why the
limitations of our understanding, as well as the limitations to the treatment of

artistic material as techne, are essential to the feeling of the sublime because
ultimately they give rise to the illusion of perfection. In fact, the sublime needs

these limits, for without them it would cease to exist. Again, if we had achieved

immortality and perfection then the limits of our existence, the limit of death,
would be erased. However, this is not possible because illusions are and

always remain unattainable. The sublime illusion of perfection and immortality,

too, that is reached by means of techne, implies a striving for this Thing which
is unattainable and yet impossible to get rid of.

With regard to Koons’ works, the mania for perfection has inarguably reached
a certain peak. Although in interviews Koons continuously emphasizes that his
work is a pursuit of beauty (Fuchs, 2012), I hope to have shown that this does

not mean that his art is truly beautiful — on the contrary. Koons’ Venusdoes
have both pleasing and terrifying qualities. As a distorted, oversized, glossy
version of a kitsch figure, it is monstrously beautiful in its highly perfected
industrial design. The irritating effect of seeing one’s own blurred reflection in

this sculpture is dizzying. The high chromium steel has no welded seems, no
dents and we can see no signs of creation/deterioration, in its slick surface.
The complete erasure of any human trace causes an enjoyable and yet
repulsive effect. We like glossy, shiny, colourful objects, we are drawn to them
in our interest for harmony and beauty. But this enormous sculpture draws us
a little further, beyond the boundaries of beauty, or, in Freudian terms ‘beyond
the pleasure principle’. Koons’ inclination for beauty is what first attracts us to

these works, yet carrying perfection to its extremes is what makes them

sublime.
In this sense, his art is in line with an ongoing aestheticization which may have

started with a pursuit of beauty but has lead towards a pursuit of sublimity.
Rather than just wanting art to be beautiful, we now also want it to be ‘thrilling’.

Yet, rather than seeing beauty and sublimity as opposing concepts, one could

see both as irreversibly connected with each other. Beauty may be the striving
for perfection while the sublime is an excess of it. In this sense the process of

aestheticization may have taken us from favouring a sense of beauty to

pursuing a feeling of the sublime. Contrary to Baudrillard, I do not think that we

are truly in a time in which the process of total aestheticization has lead us to

a state where nothing is beautiful or ugly anymore (Baudrillard, 1992: 10). It

rather seems to me that the aesthetic sensitivity today is still testing the very
limits of aesthetics. Moreover, when remembering that, in Longinus’

writings On the Sublime, beauty and sublimity were not initially conceived of
as separate from each other (Han, 2015: 25) it does not seem unreasonable
to assume that an obsession with beauty can coincide or develop into a an
obsession with the sublime. In this sense, the Oxford English

Dictionary’s definition of the sublime seems to encapsulate the interrelation

between beauty and sublimity quite well, by emphasizing its ‘overwhelming
grandeur’ just as much as its ‘beauty’ (2015).
Ultimately, I think that both Lyotard and Baudrillard, explicitly or implicitly,
noticed this development of aestheticization and the advent of an “era of
liminal and subliminal pleasures” (Baudrillard, 1990: 2), even though their

attitudes towards this process may differ. Lyotard is, in the end, right that art

has turned towards something that has to do with the sublime. However, I
contend that his theory of the sublime falls back onto rather romantic ideas of

art’s ability to allow us to perceive something like perfection, despite

postmodernist theory’s general rejection of transcendent higher faculty (Shaw,

2006: 115). Therefore, despite his efforts to give the sublime the immediacy of

the now (ibid: 123) and a somewhat political and radical impetus, Lyotard does
not manage to entirely break with the notion of a transcendental sublime and

the idea that art alludes to something of a higher realm. Lyotard’s theory of the

sublime still operates under the basic illusion that there is something that
(avant-garde) artworks are able to achieve, in contrast to ‘ordinary objects’

and consumer products, by allowing sublimity to present itself and by alluding

to something like perfection through the treatment of the artistic material.
Baudrillard, on the other hand, may claim that, in our irrational urge for

perfection, we have also lost all sense for aesthetics and are in a state
beyond beauty and sublimity (1992: 10). His account may apply to the
ideological use of aesthetic categories, through which beauty and sublimity
have been used in order to separate the sphere of the ‘fine arts’, from

‘profane’ and ‘less meaningful’ non-art objects, and it is inarguably true that,
especially after Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol, this illusion has become
less and less convincing. However, Baudrillard also fails to recognize that
actual aesthetic experiences, no matter what label we attach to them, are still
a fundamental part of human experience. Aisthesis — the Greek origin of the
term aesthetics — includes cognition as well as sensation and as human
beings (Welsch, 1996: 10), no matter how technologically enhanced, we are

still sensuous and intelligible creatures. It is difficult to conceive of humanity

without this rudimentary abilities. So, how can aesthetic experience, including
the sublime, ever be lost? It is one thing to agree with his claim that beauty

and sublimity have lost their role with respect to what we now recognize as art,
the beautiful and the sublime may have lost that monopoly. Nevertheless, this

opens up the possibility to once again acknowledge that aesthetic experiences

are not, and arguably have never been, limited to art. In the end, the Balloon
Venus is proof that the sublime sensation of shock and awe is always to be

reckoned with.
IV. Conclusion

In conclusion, I agree with Lyotard that the sublime Thing, the apparent

perfection achieved through techne, can be perceived when our thoughts are
suspended and the process of meaning making is interrupted is therefore
beyond the limitations of matter. Baudrillard, on the other hand, shows that it is

not only in art that we encounter a mania for perfection. It may arguably be
true that the effects of this mania become more visible in the domain of what
we call art, since we still make the distinction between art and non-art and
therefore possibly pay more attention to art’s aesthetic values. Nevertheless,

the sublime mania for perfection has certainly not just shown its effect in
Koons’s work, and Pop Art in general, but also in the design of every day
objects and our preference for highly perfected, slick and smooth surfaces
(Han, 2015: 9).
When, in his latest book Die Errettung des Schönen, Byung-Chul Han refers to
Koons’ works has having an anaesthetic rather than an aesthetic effect, thus
sedating our perception (2015: 15), I think he misses the point that the sublime

as a liminal experience is precisely what brings us to our cognitive and

perceptual limitations. Needless to say that the sublime sentiment is on the

margins of the human register of experiences which is what makes it

unpresentable and inexplicable but always attracts our attention in the search
for something beyond matter. Whether it is described as a point of intersection

between our perception of the world and reason, as Kant would see it, or as

an immediate event, like a flash of lightening that renders us stupefied, in

Lyotard’s sense, it is by definition something that even pushes the boundaries

of aesthetics to its very limits. Therefore, it is not entirely unreasonable to

describe the sublime as both an aesthetic and an anaesthetic experience, as

something that is material, yet immaterial, as a presence that nevertheless

escapes human understanding and that simultaneously stimulates and

paralyzes us.
Ultimately, the sublime sentiment of perceiving something beyond limits that is
always limited and unattainable can be elicited when the perfection
of techneevokes the illusion of perfection. Something can be ‘almost perfect’,
something can even be ‘too perfect’, but actual perfection is an illusion. It is
nothing that can get ‘lost’, not even in the digital age of computer generated
art, because, as we know: “One cannot get rid of the Thing. Always forgotten,
it is unforgettable” (Lyotard, 1992: 143).
Joanna Straczowski has studied English and American Studies, Art History,
theArts, Aesthetics and Cultural Institutions. She is currently a PhD student at
the University of Liverpool’s Philosophy Department. Her research focuses on
the concept of aestheticization and its significance in the digital age. She is
especially interested in the impact that digital technologies have on our
aesthetic experiences and in what way they further a process of
aestheticization. Her main areas of interest are: the philosophy of art and
aesthetics, 18th century German philosophy, French theory, political
philosophy and pop art.
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