 Today, we're going to devote our attention to the 18th century and to this changed world view in the 18th century. One aspect of which goes under the name of enlightenment. We mentioned it very briefly before, but I thought it would be worth expanding upon the topic. The image we see here is a French salon, which is a great idea. This is something you guys should try to organize in your own squalid little student departments, where you get the tirate, the most learned people in Columbus, Ohio, around to discuss ideas. You might have a theme that writes of man, or you might have a theme should women have equality, or you might have a theme is slavery a good idea, or you might have a theme can biology be quantified. Could be any kind of topic at all. You would be interested in everything in the world, and you would particularly be interested in finding new ways to systematize that knowledge, and to make sense out of that knowledge, and to make that knowledge something that could be structured to advance you to the next position. To a large extent, the learned societies that proliferated in the 18th century grew out of the academy, like the French Academy initiated by Louis XIV and the 17th century, where you try to find a way to make knowledge transferable and not kind of a secret cultish information. We saw that under Louis XIV, the academies of the arts were teaching architecture, were teaching painting, and there were also academies of science proliferating that kind of information. And they would have competitions, which is pretty interesting. Competitions on these various topics, and they were open to everybody, not simply people who were within the academy, but also everybody in society, including women. So of the, let's say, 1,200 competitions that the Academy of Sciences had in France, about 50 of the competitions were won by women, and that seems like a pathetic little number. But if you consider that women had no opportunity to receive the same kind of education that men did, or if you even consider the fact that they were allowed to compete at all, that begins to show you that the world is opening up. This opening up of the world is called, well, called a number of things, but let's call it the enlightenment, and the term enlightenment comes specifically from an essay by Emmanuel Kant, which is the Antwortung der Frage, Was ist Aufklärung? I only teach so I can say things like that out loud. And that basically means answering the question, what is enlightenment? The basic premise of Kant's essay is that people should think for themselves. He structures the essay in terms of advancing from immaturity, which he calls knowledge, to maturity, and suggests that in a state of immaturity, you allow people to make decisions for you. People tell you what to eat, people tell you what to do, but as you mature, you make decisions for yourself. And he suggests that for the most part in society, people are not making decisions for themselves, but they're relying on books, or their minister, or their physician to tell them everything to do. And this is very relaxing. This is very easy, because they don't have to do any thinking. They don't have to make any effort. Kant says, this enlightenment requires nothing but freedom, and the most innocent of all that may be called freedom, the freedom to make public use of one's reason in all matters. Now I hear cries from all sides, do not argue. The officer says, do not argue, drill. The tax collector, do not argue, pay. The pastor, do not argue, believe. Only one ruler in the world says, argue as much as you please, but obey. We find restrictions on freedom everywhere. But which restriction is harmful to enlightenment? Which restriction is innocent, and which advances enlightenment? I reply, the public use of one's reason must be free at all times. This alone can bring enlightenment to mankind. Kant suggests that it is required that people put aside dogmas and formulas, put aside mechanical tools for operating in life, and at every moment, think. Kant says, the conditions for enlightenment require only one thing, freedom. Freedom to use your own reason at every moment. This embrace of knowledge, embrace of progress, and reaction against the kind of measures that were put into play in the counter-reformation. Things like the Inquisition, for example, whereby people who held a divergent point if you were burnt or tortured or whatever. So some of the basic tenets of the Enlightenment are an interest in progress, religious tolerance. This is a medal from the Holy Roman Emperor, Joseph II, claiming that it is no longer against the law to be Jewish or Protestant. Good law. An interest in nature, nature as something authentic, something that can be used as a model to show us how to cleanse our spirits from the kinds of corruption we receive from being in the cities. Freedom, equal rights, and education. And specifically, the Enlightenment is against institutions, received institutions, like organized religion, or feudal institutions like kingship, or slavery, or any kind of bigotry. These are a couple of Enlightenment quotes. The first one is Immanuel Kant's slogan, dare to know, have the courage to think for yourself. And again, this is contrary to what people were told to do in the past. When you were told, all you could do was recover knowledge, recover ideas that have already been thought. Nothing that you think for yourself is as valuable as something that comes down through tradition and has been authorized by history and by authority and by religion. Or Voltaire says, and again, think about this as something coming in the wake of the counter-reformation, where fanaticism is really something that's creating visible discomfort to many people in society. As fanaticism has corrupted a mind, the malady is almost incurable. The only remedy for this epidemic malady is the philosophical spirit. So these are some of the big protagonists of the philosophical spirit. Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, and with them, Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin. The founders of the United States of America grew up in the period of enlightenment and carried to America and carried in the founding documents of the United States, these enlightenment principles. Equality for all, freedom for all, the opportunity to learn the importance of education and a tolerance. All these things are enshrined in the Constitution of the United States and in the Declaration of Independence. Here's Rousseau, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who wrote a number of important works. For example, the discourse on the origin of equality, which is a doctrine very strongly against slavery, which is alive and well, not only in the United States, but in all the colonies at this time, and the social contract. These are some Rousseau quotes. The first man who, having fenced in a piece of land, said, this is mine and found people naive enough to believe him, that man was the true founder of civil society. And when Rousseau says civil, he really means horribly corrupt and awful. He's being a little bit tongue-in-cheek with civil. Because Rousseau values nature above civilization. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one of us have saved mankind by pulling up the stake or filling up the ditch and crying to his fellows, beware of listening to this imposter. You are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody. So that's the spirit of enlightenment. And that is the spirit in which the United States was founded. So we have this concept of the noble savage, which essentially says, man is born virtuous and society corrupts him. So the more you can get out of these civil structures and the more closely you can be connected to nature, the better you will be. One of the great documents of the Enlightenment is the Encyclopedia by Denis Diderot and his friend, Mr. D'Alembert. Just yet, you think of encyclopedias as things that now exist digitally as Wikipedia, which, by the way, is where this picture of Diderot came from. So I'm not knocking Wikipedia. But the idea of an encyclopedia is a kind of amazing thing. The idea of an encyclopedia is an attempt to put together all of mankind's knowledge in a single document, and organize it, catalog it, structure it, so that that knowledge can be retrieved in an efficient manner. It's an amazing undertaking. Couldn't have been conceptualized in an earlier period, only in the spirit of enlightenment, progressive thinking. Only in the spirit of enlightenment, love of education, could such an idea have come into being. And these are just a few plates from Diderot's Encyclopedia. Just talks about everything. It's really fun to look through. For example, perhaps you're interested in horses and their harnesses. Maybe you're curious about cutting tools. Now let me tell you about the printing press. And it's just a kind of strange document full of stuff. And really part of the task that Diderot has is acquiring all this information. But another major task that he has is finding a way to structure it. How do you structure all the knowledge in the world? What is the correct way to put forward all the knowledge in the world? There is a 20th century philosopher, Michel Foucault, a French structuralist, who spent really a good part of his career trying to sort out this moment, this birth of a new way of thinking. And he wrote a number of books, and they're all really interesting and really good. The Order of Things, written in 1966, in French goes by the title, Les mots et les choses, une archaeologie des sciences humaines, which is to say, in French it means the words and things. And it's interesting that that title doesn't get conserved in English, because what Foucault is looking at is how slippery the connection is between the word and the thing it means, and how a key to understanding the difference between, say, enlightenment thinking and the thinking that went before it has to do with this association between sign and signifier, that in the earlier period that association was magical and unquestionable. And by the time you get into the late 17th century, the time of the academies, and in the 18th century, in the time of the Enlightenment, it becomes a much, much more slippery thing. Foucault also wrote a bunch of books, but he wrote another book about this period called Discipline and Punish. And in that book he's looking at the rise of these institutions that take care of aberrant things in society. Like, up until pretty much the 18th century, if you had somebody who didn't quite fit in, you called that person the village idiot, and you would poke him with a stick from time to time. That would be what you would do. And that was great, because after that period you threw them at a big pit and gave them some water sometimes. You marginalized people that didn't fit into the norm. You know, the dark side of the Enlightenment desire to give structure and form and clarity to all things in the world was if things didn't fit in, they had to be marginalized and hidden, hidden from view. We've looked at Piranesi's prisons, but Piranesi's prisons are really more, and he calls them this, prisons of his imagination. They're imaginary prisons. They're this sublime evocation of what the condition of being in prison might be. During the Enlightenment, however, philosophers gave serious attention to the question of the prison, particularly Jeremy Bentham, a British philosopher who in 1785 proposed the idea of the Panopticon. And for Bentham, the Panopticon would be a new reform in what it was to incarcerate. Instead of using torture, instead of using deprivation and cruelty, the Panopticon could offer a kind of pain-free surveillance. And it would have to do with the notion of conscious and permanent visibility. You have a watchtower in the center. You have prison cells arranged around it. And the condition of surveillance has to do with the fact that the warden in the center can see the prisoners and the prisoners cannot see the warden. The Milbank prison in London in 1861 is one of the earliest examples of a penitentiary designed in this Panopticon spirit. We have the multiplication of these panoptical organizations, towers in the center, radial disposition of cells on all sides. This model appears again and again. Here's Pentonville prison in North London. This is the form that more or less gets reproduced in a wholesale fashion. Little baby Panopticons surrounding the major Panopticon. And even in the United States, John Haviland's Eastern State Penitentiary of 1829 is a pretty straightforward example of a Panopticon. Radial. Opticon means the eye. Pan means all. So by situating the warden in the center of this radial organization, he has this all-seeing eye, power to surveil people in all the cells. And the benefit of the model of the Panopticon, of course, is that the warden can see the prisoners and the prisoners cannot see the warden. Instead of relying on the guard to personally be at hand when the criminal is behaving in an improper manner, the Panopticon hides the act of surveillance and thereby it forces the prisoner to be constantly vigilant, constantly on guard. People could be surveilling them at any moment. Discipline, instead of being imposed from without in the model of the Panopticon, becomes internalized. In discipline and punish, Foucault challenges the idea that these prisons are humanitarian. Instead, he thinks that the Panopticon is a diagram for producing docile bodies for a new industrial age. And in fact, this Panopticon model originally applied to the prison becomes something that is used again and again in other kinds of institutions like insane asylums or factories or hospitals or schools. By the way, John Havland, the architect of the prison in Philadelphia, is considered to be one of the major American architects of the period. Most of his work is this very decorous Greek revival architecture like St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. He was also the architect of the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia. And the Franklin Institute is really a learned society where people come together and discuss scientific issues. By the way, not that many true Panopticons were constructed. This is a pretty great looking one in Cuba closed in 1967, where there is in fact almost a literal representation of the diagram. The warden in the center, the prison cells displayed all around. And you might be inclined to say, wow, those Cubans are crazy. Here's one in Illinois, the Illinois State Penitentiary. Really very, very similar in its general disposition to the Bentham diagram and to the Cuban one. And here it is on the outside, really quite an extraordinary looking thing. One thing that Foucault talks about in the order of things is this painting. Great painting, Velazquez's Las Maninas. 1656, this is a Baroque date, but it's at the cusp. It's this moment when there's a shift taking place between how people see things. By comparison, look at something like the Mona Lisa. Perhaps you're familiar with this painting. If you had to say what the subject of the Mona Lisa is, it would be pretty easy to say, well, it's this woman standing in front of a landscape. But clearly the subject of this painting is the woman. There's only really one focus in the painting. If you come back to Las Maninas, you have to say, what's the subject of this painting? And you might be inclined to say, well, it's probably the little princess, the Infanta here. But you would be wrong because those of us who speak Spanish, that means not me, would say Las Maninas means the handmaidens. So Velazquez is very clear not to say portrait of the little princess, but rather the handmaidens. And we see this range of handmaidens surrounding the little princess and primping her. So what's this painting about? And Foucault says the fact that this painting is about so many things, is what makes it kind of window onto this changed way of understanding the world. It's not about a thing at all. It's about relationships. It's about ways of seeing. It's about ways of viewing. It's about framing and concealing and lines of sight. Hey, what is the little princess doing? Clearly the handmaidens are sort of doting on the little princess. But what's the little princess doing? She's looking out toward us. But is she looking out toward us? And the clue might be, what is this thing in the corner? Any ideas? A canvas, yeah. It's a canvas. And this is a self-portrait of Velazquez. So he's painting himself, painting a picture, which is already a very reflexive, self-referential kind of content for painting to have. Who's he painting a picture of? Any ideas? Yes? The people in the foreground, these guys? Well, kind of, except no, totally wrong. Yes? Where are the mother and the father of the little girl? Right, exactly. The mother and the father, we call the mother and the father of the princess by a special name. Do you know what that name is? King and Queen. You seem like a smart girl, Lisa. I'm shocked that you didn't have the vocabulary to come up with that. So we have the king and queen over here reflected in the mirror, looking back at us, looking at them. Well, Velazquez is looking at them. Princess is looking at them. That little dwarf, because every Baroque court has to have a couple of dwarfs, and this is one that this court is looking out at them. And there is this kind of constant thrust in Perry. There's even somebody here framed, as if in a picture, but framed by a door, looking at the picture, framed by a frame. We're looking at a frame that frames the picture of people looking through frames at frames of people framed in a picture reflected back at us. It's a rather complicated space. You kind of long for the clarity of the Mona Lisa. In fact, I have seen this displayed, and I swear it wasn't a dream, although it easily could be, because I've been back and it wasn't like that. It's in the Prado in Spain. And I've seen it there with a mirror in the room. So you're allowed to go stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of Las Maninas. It might have been an installation. This was years ago, but it was a nice experience. So that is what Foucault would say becomes the way of seeing things by the time you slip into this period. And of course, he doesn't say things clear, like 17th century or 18th century. He uses these words that no other human being in the world uses, which are classical epistem and pre-classical epistem. Epistem, what could that be? Well, good luck trying to find out. The book sort of unpacks these terms. And epistem is the root of the branch of philosophy, epistemology. And epistemology is the branch of philosophy that deals with how do you know things? How is it that you can acquire knowledge? It's a speculative field. And for Foucault, an epistem is a way of knowing the world. How do you extract knowledge from the world you're in? He would say the pre-classical epistem that is pre-Baroque before the birth of the academies and this increasingly progressive way of acquiring knowledge, building on knowledge, and advancing discourse. The pre-classical epistem was a system of knowledge based on faith, resemblance, and mystical affinities. Think of astrology, for example. You look at the sky. You see something that looks like a woman sitting on a throne. And you think Cassiopeia, the Greek goddess in the sky. Or you see the orbits of planets. And you think these things are predicting your future because they resemble certain patterns that have been individuated. Or you look at tea leaves. And you see little patterns in the tea leaves. And you say, the tea leaves look like a heart. I think I'm going to fall in love. This is the pre-classical epistem where there is a direct resemblance between the thing and the meaning of the thing. The sign and the signifier adhere tightly together. By the time you get to the classical epistem and by classical, he means Baroque and forward. And that's where Foucault is slippery because nobody else uses classical that way. By the time you get to the classical epistem, beginning in the middle of the 17th century, you acquire knowledge through direct observation, through reason, scientific method, supplants, earlier methods of acquiring knowledge. Debate had to do with how many teeth do people have. And you could argue a lot about how many teeth people have. I think people probably have 20 teeth because that is a really nice number. And you might say 25 is a better number because it's a square. And I would have a hard time arguing with you. I might say 36 because six is a perfect number. You can multiply the factors of six and you get six or you can add the factors of six and you get six. So if you take the square of six and get 36, that would be a good number for teeth. This all makes sense to me. If I were living in a pre-classical epistem, if I were living in a classical epistem, I would just count your teeth. And I would say this is how many teeth people have. Or I might not just count your teeth. I might count everybody's teeth and take an average. I would take a larger scientific sample and I would average that. Kind of makes sense. Of course, we are living in the moment where that way of organizing knowledge makes sense, but it really represents a huge departure from the previous way of organizing knowledge. Foucault refers to a book on the history of science by a man called Thomas Kuhn. And Kuhn speaks about a paradigm shift. And paradigm, in this sense, means something like epistem to Foucault. Thomas Kuhn's paradigm is like Foucault's epistem, a structure by which we can know and understand our world. And a paradigm shift is a change in how knowledge is apprehended and meaning conferred to the world. So there's a shift. Thomas Kuhn suggests that these paradigm shifts are abrupt. They're really kind of sudden. There's no predicting them. They just happen all of a sudden. Within a few years, around 1800, the tradition of general grammar was replaced by an essential historical philology. Natural classifications were ordered according to the analyses of comparative anatomy. And political economy was founded on main themes which were labor and production. Kuhn is suggesting there are two paradigm shifts. One is this moment in the Baroque and one is the beginning of the Industrial Revolution where people begin to shake up how they understand and organize the world. He talks a lot about discontinuities in the way these paradigms give rise to a new paradigm. And these are the two great discontinuities, the beginning of the classical age, halfway through the 17th century, and the beginning of the modern age at the beginning of the 19th century. I might just say if Foucault had lived a bit longer to come into the digital age, he may have said there's another great discontinuity. Because I really think that there's a huge difference in how knowledge is disseminated and how knowledge is apprehended and how the field of knowers shifts when you're in the digital age. In the 17th century or in the beginning of the 19th century, the people who could get knowledge were the people who had access to books or access to universities or access to the kind of leisure time you needed to come into contact with that. But now people in remote villages can go to iTunes University and hear this very discussion that we're having now provided they have a computer. The world is flattening and there is a kind of common access to information that would have been unthinkable to Foucault having died in 1984. I've been kind of not talking about a number of Magritte paintings. They're all pretty provocative. And the cover of my personal English translation of the words and things has this Magritte painting on it. Sussinipazupip, which translates into this is not a pipe. What do you think that means? Why is it entitled this is not a pipe? Yes? Right, it's not a pipe, it's a painting of a pipe. I think this notion of the image of the thing, the simulacrum, the artificial, is what's being discussed here. It's not a pipe at all. It's the picture of a pipe. And here it's even less of a pipe than the picture of the pipe because it is a digital projection of an image on my screen of a picture of a pipe taken from a book. So it's totally fake. It's not a pipe at all. The thing pipe and the word pipe don't connect together. And in fact, even the image pipe doesn't connect together. So many of Magritte's paintings are about this same theme that Foucault is discussing in the kind of disconnection between the signified and the signifier. Foucault also talks about this beginning of a story by Borges where he's talking about a Chinese dictionary. I don't know if you've ever read this. It's so funny. It's somebody trying to make a list, trying to catalog things in a Chinese dictionary. Foucault quotes an essay by Jorge Luis Borges called The Analytical Language of John Wilkins. Borges typically invents erudite sources and then discusses them. And this seems to be an example of that. He's looking at a Chinese encyclopedia, the Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge. And this is how this document purports to categorize animals. And this is just an illustration of how hard it is to put together an encyclopedia. How do you categorize things? Foucault suggests that this method of categorizing the animals shatters all known methods of holding thought together. Borges gives us 14 categories. Those belonging to the emperor, embalmed ones, those that are trained, suckling pigs, mermaids, fabulous ones, stray dogs. Those included in the present classification. Those that tremble as if they were mad, innumerable ones. Those drawn with a very fine camel hair brush, et cetera. Those that have just broken a flower vase and those that from a long way off look like flies. Begin to get this kind of categorization that seems crazy of all these things that get lumped together in a seemingly random way because the structure of language that underlies that is quite different. So let's just look at two more paintings again as a way of getting at a difference between the classical and pre-classical way of looking at things. This is Montaigne, Dead Christ, 1450. Great Renaissance painting. Montaigne Northern painter. What do you think that the Montaigne painting is about? The title might tip you off. It's about Christ. It's about dead Christ. It's about the mourning of Christ. And it's using perspective, which is pretty new in 1450. It's using it not simply to represent the image of the dead Christ, but to increase the emotional value of the dead Christ. There is this slab. And the feet project beyond the slab almost into the space of the viewer. The powerful presence of the dead Christ is so great that the mourners are pushed to the margin. The space of the painting can't contain the grief created by his death. It's a kind of very, very strong painting that uses perspective in a way to enhance and amplify those meanings. This is a Magritte painting called Euclidean Walks. Can anybody see what's going on in this painting? Yes. Right, exactly right. There's a painting. This is an easel. Here's a painting. Here's a window. What we're looking at, in fact, is not really the view through the window, but the reconstructed painting of the view through the window. And the image is deliberately confusing, deliberately because Magritte is interested in this impossibility of knowing and how things and words conceal the truth behind things. So here we have a little comical tower. I'm a little medieval castle. Here we have exactly the same shape, but it is a road receding off into perspective. He's fooling us. We have a painting that's apparently symmetrical, but it's representing two radically different conditions, extreme foreground and extreme recession into space. In many ways, this Magritte painting is like the Velázquez painting. It is a frame within a frame within a frame, constantly removing the immediacy that you have with your engagement of the object. A lot of that sets up the beginning of the modern condition. And as we move into the 18th century, we're moving into the modern condition. There are a number of people who pin it there. For example, the architectural historian Joseph Rickworth writes a book called The First Moderns, and The First Moderns are in the 18th century. One condition of the modern that Foucault underscores is this notion of self-consciousness, that you are aware of the act of doing the thing that you're doing. Magritte's painting very much is about making a painting. It's about the act of representing, whereas Montaigne's painting is about the act of making a contemplative icon of the dead Christ. There is this self-consciousness, you're out of nature. It's like Tintern Abbey and Wordsworth that we discussed last time. Wordsworth is aware of the fact that he is having an experience admiring nature, but he can't get to the authenticity of that experience, not the one that he had the first time. So that's it, remorse of self-consciousness. Has anybody read Ulysses by James Joyce? That's a big crowd here of James Joyce fans, I see. Well, you would probably get stopped in the first page by the words, agonbite of in wit. Because I know that made me put the book down until I got a little bit of a concordance to go along with it. This is a phrase from a medieval text that means remorse of self-consciousness. And in many ways, Joyce in Ulysses is talking about the modern condition, and he identifies it right away with a medieval phrase, meaning remorse of self-consciousness, that you cannot get beyond the fact that you know that you are doing something in the world in a way that's no longer authentic. You can't get back to the authentic act. So that's one of the problems. And in this context, you begin to have this reemergence of interest in aesthetics, in the idea of beauty. Because if art is no longer directly about something, about some transcendental reference, like it was in Montaigne, then what is art about? What is the content of art? And the content of art might be about beauty. Might be about an intellectual engagement with beauty. The content of art might be about stirring up strong motions. The content of art might be some witty game about what it is to make a picture. These become the subject of aesthetics and so forth. And then there's also the idea of taste. And taste has to do with judgment. How do you make judgments about whether something is a good work of art or not? Taste is critical in the Enlightenment period because it's what you can get through learning. It's what you can get through knowledge. It's what education can give you. The acquisition of taste is a progressive act, just like knowledge. So here we have Louis XIV. I just like to show him because he's so good looking. And again, we see this image that we looked at briefly before of the primitive hut, a modern desire, derived from Vitruvius' description of the first architectural act, the primitive hut. But in this 18th century representation of the primitive hut by Abbe Loge, it really looks like a desire to get back to origins, a desire to get back beyond the clutter of history to an original way to make things. It's kind of like Rousseau's Noble Savage. How would you build if history and culture didn't force you to build in a certain way? Here in Loge's drawing, we see classical architecture piled up like a heap of discarded trash and the allegorical figure of architecture is saying, this, look at the forest. This is how you build. This is the original act of architecture. Architecture is not about the orders. Architecture is not about heavy stone, carved and shaped in an artificial way by man. Architecture derives from the natural condition of the forest. And the ornament of architecture, instead of being conventional, derives from the joinery, the twining together of branches. You're gonna see this like 10,000 times by the time we're done, because it really is a key image to understanding how we move forward into modernism. In the context of this discussion of the Enlightenment, I want to review again these terms we discussed last time of the beautiful and the sublime. These are terms that Edmund Burke discusses in his inquiry into the beautiful and sublime. And he's trying to find these different categories for aesthetic judgment. The beautiful is really the thing that the Renaissance would have wanted. Clear, well-measured, proportional, understandable. And the sublime, in many ways, is the architectural effect you get from Gothic, where you're overwhelmed, you're dazzled, you don't quite understand the limits of the space or the kind of life, or even from Baroque, where there's something rhetorical and powerful going on. You would also get a feeling of the sublime from nature. When Piranesi does his engravings, some of which are meant to be scenes of everyday life in Rome, he does so with this strong sublime desire. Like, this is the Colosseum, but it's much bigger than it should be. The light is really strong. There's backlighting. The idea of the ruin is played up so that you can begin to see nature overwhelming these great artifices of culture. Revit, when they're measuring the Greek antiquities, a very enlightenment project to be out there looking for origins, looking beyond Rome, looking at Greece. But at the same time, they do these strong sublime landscape paintings. Backlighting, strong sweep of nature, very dramatic. Or Piranesi's Capriccios, where it's just backlighting, overwhelming scale, super-abundance of material, or his prisons, where in his original print, it's already crazy, but when he recuts the plates, he just keeps amplifying and amplifying and amplifying the amount of material there so that it really becomes like a maze almost or a portrait into the mind of someone trying to make sense out of things that cannot be constructed together. This is the Chinese Dictionary of all these different pieces that don't adhere together, or this is just the attempt of taking too much information and trying to make order out of it. It also has to do with the deliberate play of sensual apprehension of an architecture or a painting, as opposed to an intellectual apprehension of that.