Benjamin_summary As quoted before the preface, Paul Valery states: "In all the arts there is a phsical component which can no longer be considered or treated as it used to be, which cannot remain unaffected by our modern knowledge and power." (217) In his essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Benjamin delves into the effect modern mechanization on the techniques of the arts. He starts of stating the difference between the early imitation of man-made artifacts and mechanical reproduction. The latter not only caused the most profound change in art's impact on the public, but "it had also captured a place of its own among the artistic processes" (219-220). After these conclusions, Benjamin goes on to discuss the repercussions that "the reproduction of works of art and the art of the film have had on art in its traditional form" (220). [reproduction] Benjamin recognizes that "even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be" (220). He goes on to state that a work of art is both unique and authoritive. Each of these attributes come from a domain of tradition - "the authenticity of a thing is the essence of all that is transmissible from its beginning" (221). Any reproduced object substitutes a unique existence for quantity. Perhaps the most defining line of Benjamin's piece as a whole is: "that which withers in the age of mechanical reproduction is the aura of the work of art" (221). He defines 'aura' as "the unique phenomenon of a distance, however close it may be" (222). In this age, the aura is decaying. Benjamin blames this on "the desire of contemporary masses to bring things 'closer' spatially + humanly" (222). Here, the unarmed eye is linked to uniqueness + permenance, whereas reproduction is to transitoriness + reproducibility. This uniqueness is "inseparable from its being imbedded in the fabric of tradition [which itself] is thoroughly alive and extremely changable" (223). Benjamin observes that "for the first time in world history, mechanical reproduction emancipates the work of art from its parsitical dependence on ritual" (224). He stresses that a work of art is no longer based on ritual, but it begins to feel based on politics. This has reversed the total function of art. Reproduced works have become designed for just that - reproducibility. Mechanical reproduction also changes the reaction of the masses towards art. "The conventional is uncritically enjoyed, and the truly new is criticized with aversion" (234). [film] Contemporary mass movement's most powerful agent is the film; "it's social significance...is inconceivable without its...liquidation of the traditional value of the cultural heritage" (221). Benjamin eases us into this destructive medium by first discussing photography. Here he tells of a loss of tradition: "The cult remembrance of loved ones...offers a last refuge for the cult value of the picture...But as man withdraws from the photographic image, the exhibition value for the first time shows its superiority to the ritual value" (226). Benjamin goes on to compare these kinds of deritualized photos to one of a crime scene: "The scene of a crime, too, is deserted; it is photographed for the purpose of establishing evidence" (226). In another piece of Benjamin's, On Some Motifs in Baudelaire, he uses the same judgement on the process of photography in relation to technological advances: "Of the countless movements of switching, inserting, pressing and the like, the 'snappng' of the photographer has had the greatest consequences. A touch of the finger now sufficed to fix an event for an unlimited period of time (30)." Benjamin goes on to address the issue of an individual's role in a film. He notes that "for the first time...man has to operate with his whole living person, yet forgoing its aura. For aura is tied to presence; there can be no replica of it" (229). As for the scenes he acts, the product "affords a spectacle unimaginable anywhere at any time before this" (232). This could mean that before the means of technology, the process of filming an actor was impossible. What Benjamin clarifies, rather, is that the viewpoint assigned to a viewer would not exclude extraneous equipment, lighting, assistants, etc. unless his eye were in the exact location of the camera lens. Further, the illusionary nature of film is magnified as a result of cutting. The idea of 'the mass' is addressed by Banjamin in reference to film. He states that the "greatly increased mass of participants has produced a change in the mode of participation" (239). The public is thus granted the ability to criticize. Further, it demands "a spectacle which...presupposes no intelligence". This sets a clear difference between observing film and art: "the masses seek distraction whereas art demands concentration from the spectator" (239). Symptomatic to this distracted reception is a profound change in apperception. Despite all of the negative criticisms, Benjamin admits that although "quantity has been transmuted into quality", the entire spectrum of perception has been deepened. In the context of close-ups, the film "extends our comprehension of the necessities which rule our lives" (236). The simple enlargement of a snapshot "reveals entirely new structural formations of the subject" (236). Benjamin eloquently states that "a different nature opens itself to the camera than opens to the naked eye" (236). This sort of conscious exploration replaces an unconsciously penetrated space. Benjamin_analysis In relation to the connection between thinking and doing, it seems as though film is losing its ground (if it even had it in the first place). The point of well thought actions is to elicit meaningful results. In The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Benjamin cites multiple situations as to which the processes of film are done negligently and its effects go unforseen: film decaying the aura, the inability to identify with an actor, the illusionary nature of the camera, film's distracting rather than contemplative element, etc. With the exception of the first, all of these are reasons why film is so successful and - almost spiritually - moving in regard to their persuasive, magical expression. It seems as though film has traded its own aura in exchange for an attempt at relating to the public on an unexplored, phenemonal level. Benjamin offers useful comparisons in his writings, namely that of the stage actor vs. the onscreen actor and the screen vs. the canvas. Stage performance and painting take the more prestigious side, seeing as how they are much earlier forms of art. These have had hundreds of years to develop and present themselves, whereas film was introduced just this past century. Its closest forerunner is that of the play, and even the two have so many distinctions that film is a completely new form of art, created becuase of the advent of mechanical reproduction and technology. Already at an advantage, Benjamin goes further to point out that "the painting invites the spectator to contemplation...before the movie frame he cannot do so. No sooner has his eye grasped a scene than it is already changed" (238). It is understood that a painting can have many layers - and indeed, its form (that of the stable canvas) allows the viewer as much time as necessary to observe it, uninterrupted. Since the film is a constant stream of morphing images, it may be more useful to compare it to a piece of literature. It is interesting to note that literature too is a forerunner of film - its very nature is that of a script which is oftentimes the first and most base step in creating a film. One could go so far as to say that the scenes imagined while reading are simply manifested on the screen in the from of a movie. If a novel can present truths, could a film do the same? If Benjamin were to answer that question, it is likely that he would disagree whole-heartedly when he states, "the distracting element of [film] is also primarily tactile, being based on the changes of place and focus which periodically assail the spectator" (238). On the other hand, he quotes Duhamel, a detestor of film: "I can no longer think what I want to think. My thoughts have been replaced by moving images" (238). Although this statement has negative connotations, it also holds that a these 'moving images' give the reader a new and perscribed thought. It could be inferred here, then, that the difference between interpreting a painting and a film is that with a painting, the viewer is encouraged and free to come to his own conclusions. In film, however, a spectator is more or less pushed to come to a very specific view. Who is to say, then, that this is not truth? Does truth necessarily have to be discovered or can it be appointed? It appears then, that a film can convey truth. This in itself is beautiful. In Benjamin's On Some Motifs in Baudelaire he quotes Valery in saying "any improvement of [a] mechanism eliminates certain modes of behaviour and emotions" (30). As a case study, Benjamin offers the camera, where "of the countless movements of switching, inserting, pressing and the like, the 'snapping' of the photographer has had the greatest consequences" (31). Such advances in the mechanical age have been greeted with hostility - for the art of working with ones hands (not in switching, inserting or pressing, but in drafting, molding and impressions) is lost. It is replaced with a touch, a crank or a push. This leaves early critics of film in an akward place. They see a value in reverting to traditional, ritualistic ways of creating art. And, indeed, these modes should not become lost amid the new art forms that mechanical reproduction offers. With time, film will become refined - maybe even honest.