In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Opera as ExperienceScott L. Pratt (bio)There is a long history of debate over what opera is. Since its more or less formal beginning in the sixteenth century as a reconstruction of ancient drama, opera as an art form has been controversial. The received understanding—emphasized by the genre's founders and in periodic efforts at reforming the standards of composition and production—is that opera is musical drama. In his book (...) Opera as Drama, Joseph Kerman reasserted this view as an antidote to what he called "flabby relativism" and in order to be able to determine a set of values that could serve as a basis for opera criticism.1 He argues that while opera is "excellently its own art form," it is one where the story serves as the central framework in terms of which the particularities of the words and music are structured.2 Given a story, the librettist and the composer work to express the narrative dramatically, using words and music to convey not only the events of the story but the emotions bound up in the story. For Kerman, in a successful opera the words express the narrative and the music enriches it by providing the emotional aspect. One can then evaluate an opera in light of the drama expressed in the relation of the narrative to the words and music. Disconnection between the words and music undermine the value of the opera, even if the words adequately express the narrative and the music adequately expresses some emotion.Philosopher Bernard Williams, in his collection On Opera, affirms Kerman's general conception of opera and adds to it two important factors. First, while the words and music are essential to the drama presented, operas are also distinct in that they are staged and not concert pieces. In this case, the details of the staging also contribute to the success of a particular opera (though the variation in staging usually falls out of discussions by [End Page 74] Kerman and Williams of particular operas). Second, Williams makes clear what is implicit in Kerman: "It is a fallacy to argue," Williams says, "that since, in a musical drama, music obviously provides the music, so the words must provide the drama."3 The drama is a product of both the words and the music in relation to the narrative whose meaning provides the frame on which these hang. Opera criticism, from this perspective, focuses on the specific ways in which the text of a given opera expresses or fails to express the drama of the story. Here, the words, since they present the story, are taken as primary. Williams quoted Calzabigi, a librettist and reformer associated with Gluck: "The music has no other function than to express what arises from the words, which are therefore neither smothered by notes nor used to lengthen the spectacle unduly, because it is ridiculous to prolong the sentence 'I love you' (for instance) with a hundred notes when nature has restricted it to three."4In contrast to Kerman's view of opera as drama, philosopher Peter Kivy, in his book Osmin's Rage, proposes a view of opera as music. Despite Kivy's claim that this notion serves as a more or less equivalent alternative to Kerman's, in fact it radically reorganizes how one thinks about opera and how one evaluates particular operas. Kivy's alternative is in part the result of a reading of the history of opera as an art form that began, in effect, as the answer to a philosophical problem: the relation of emotions to dramatic texts. The founders of opera, the Florentine Camerata, asked how, given a particular story—Antigone, Oedipus, or Orpheus, for example—does telling the story express the emotions that are central to the meaning of the story? How does telling the story go from "just the facts" to the felt meaning of tragedy? The answer for the Florentine Camerata was found in their understanding of ancient Greek tragedies, where they concluded that the problem was solved by singing the words. By singing, they argued, the Greeks were able to make the emotional content of the words accessible to the audience.5... (shrink)

Recent Contributions to the Sociology of Sex: The Limits of Sex by Celia Haddon, London: Michael Joseph, 1982, pp 202, £7.95 Sex. Facts, Frauds and Follies by Thomas Szasz, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1981, pp xii + 194, £3.95 Sexual Fiction by Maurice Charney, London: Methuen, 1981, pp xii + 180, £2.95 The Sexual Fix by Stephen Heath, London: Macmillan, 1982, pp191, £4.95.

According to Mark Rubinstein ‘In 1952, anticipating Kenneth Arrow and John Pratt by over a decade, he [de Finetti] formulated the notion of absolute risk aversion, used it in connection with risk premia for small bets, and discussed the special case of constant absolute risk aversion.’ The purpose of this note is to ascertain the extent to which this is true, and at the same time, to correct certain minor errors that appear in de Finetti's work.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:JOSEPH MARGOLIS THE LOGIC AND STRUCTURES OF FICTIONAL NARRATIVE The fascination of fiction and narrative is plainly immense, sind current analyses are notably fresh and ingenious. But ifone were to venture a compendious account of die most strategic conceptual claims bearing on those notions, they might well be captured by the following three theses: (i) that fiction and narrative are logically quite distinct, without necessarily excluding one anodier; (...) (ii) that fictional worlds are no worlds at all; they are merely imagined to exist; and (iii) that events, whether actual or imagined, cannot be specified independently of the categories by which we identify them as the events they are, categories subject to change over time. What is intriguing about mese three claims is that they strike the ear as utterly commonplace and obvious. But that is dieir strength. For it would be a great convenience if the relevant puzzles generated by analytic philosophy, hermeneutics, the new narratology, semiotics and the like could be resolved, convincingly, by appeal to die implications of these diree homely trudis. In addition, diey affect one another in a rather complicated way, and, taken joindy, easily expose certain influential false starts. The import of (iii), for example, is notably ignored in die otherwise powerful analysis of narrative afforded by Gérard Genette. Its bearing on (i) utterly undermines the explicit dualism favored by Seymour Chatman, who is clearly influenced by Genette himself. The failure to mark die force of (i) and its analogue regarding poetry is most obvious in I. A. Richards's contrast between poetry and science, the work of the Prague circle, Northrop Frye's Anatomy of Criticism, and such recent speech-act theories of poetry and fiction as those proposed by Richard Ohmann, Monroe Beardsley, and Mary Louise Pratt. The corresponding failure widi respect to (ii) is clear in John Searle's theory of reference and in die ontological claims made by Nicholas Wolterstorff. The connection between (i) and (ii) is muddled most famously by G. E. Moore. These charges suggest die quarrelsome promise of the intended economy. But, as we shall see, they also lead in the direction of a more constructive theory of texts and their interpretation and of die constraints of narrative and style diat affect fiction. 162 Joseph Margolis163 Fiction, we say, differs from reality as well as from legend. But in speaking thus, we betray an understandable confidence that these three kinds of"world"— or, these three worlds — are conceptually well-behaved and open to straightforward demarcation. Once more, we slip altogether too easily between talking about certain worlds and about the narrative accounts by which we do so. What distinguishes fictional reference? we ask, and what is a fictional world? The best way to proceed here is to begin with strong intuitions and to trace dieir systematic consequences in order to test how far they are unassailable — or whether and where they must yield to others that are more accommodating. One particularly promising equivocation is the following. We speak of fictional worlds as possible (but not actual) worlds; but even if what is possible in a fictional world corresponds (in some sense) to what is possible in the actual world, it is not, as such, a possibility of or at the actual world. The "possible worlds" idiom is fundamentally and doubly equivocal. For, a "possible world" signifies either what is merely logically or conceptually compossible, or what (under suitably referential, predicative, causal, and similar constraints) is compossible specifically with respect to the actual world (or some part of it). Certainly, Balzac's La Cousine Bette "presents" an imaginary world that is internally coherent and compossible. One might even say, ignoring its fictive nature, diat such a world — or events very much like those of the story — is compossible with a certain portion of the actual world of nineteenth-century France. But Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderfond, though it scrupulously presents a coherent world of compossible events, does not present a world compossible with the actual world. And, on certain views at least, Thomas Mann's The Transposed Heads presents a possible world that is a conceptual impossibility. There is, however, no need to quarrel about particular cases... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Journal of Aesthetic Education 37.4 (2003) 84-93 [Access article in PDF] Arthur Wesley Dow's Address in Kyoto, Japan (1903) Researchers concerned with the historical development of American art education cannot help but acknowledge Arthur Wesley Dow's significant contribution to the field. Although many writers have recognized him as one of greatest figures in art education, 1 it was not until the end of the twentieth century that art (...) historians discovered his impact on the early development of modernist American art.Several exhibitions of Dow's work have been shown recently, most notably: "Arthur Wesley Dow and American Art and Crafts," in Stanford, Chicago, and Fort Dodge, Iowa (1999 and 2000) and "Harmony of Reflected Light: The Photographs of Arthur Wesley Dow," at the New Mexico Museum of Fine Arts (2001). 2 In addition, two galleries in New York showed exhibitions of Dow's work in 1999 and 2000, respectively. These exhibitions indicate a rediscovery of Dow's work and his role, as well as a wider interest in the integral aspects of modernism in American artworks.Joseph Masheck recognized Dow's post-impressionistic aesthetic of flat surface design as influential on modernism in painting and the graphic arts. 3 Nancy Green sees Dow as "one of the first Western artists who did not simply imitate Japanese art, but who actually used the traditional Japanese woodcut techniques to create modernist prints." 4 Leah Ollman writes, "Those who credit Dow as a conduit to American modernism see his traces everywhere" because "Dow is revealed at the end of the rainbow, as the common ancestor" who spread his theory and practice of art and art education. 5 James Enyeart states that Dow can now receive appropriate critical assessment of his work as a photographer and his impact on pictorial and modernist photography. 6 [End Page 84]Dow is one of the few Americans whose work in the field of art and art education was influenced by Japanese traditional art. He came to Japan in October 1903 and spent three months in Japan, including six weeks in Tokyo and a month in Kyoto. His address in Kyoto in mid-December of that year has been mentioned in biographical studies. 7 However, a detailed account of what Dow said to the Japanese public has previously been unknown due to lack of a historical source.Contemporary Japanese newspaper articles are the primary source for the contents of this address. The purpose of this essay is to translate these source materials into English, providing a definitive description to encourage further research on Dow as an outstanding artist and educator. This essay describes his activity in Japan, provides useful primary sources about his address, and discusses the content of the address. Implications for a cross-cultural interpretation are discussed in the concluding remarks. Dow in Japan Dow was born in Ipswich, Massachusetts on April 6, 1857. He studied art in Boston and Paris, and exhibited his paintings at Salon, in Paris from 1886-1887. He established his summer school of art in Ipswich (1891-1907) and became the curator of Japanese art at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts in1897. He was an instructor of art at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn from 1895-1904; taught composition at the Art Student's League in New York from 1897-1903; and served as a professor and the director of fine arts at Teachers College, Columbia University from 1904-1922. 8 Dow first studied Japanese art at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts under the direction of Ernest Fenollosa, and then during his residence in Japan.Arthur Johnson's 1934 biography provides the most detailed description of Dow's life and works. 9 In fact, "every subsequent publication about Dow has relied on this biographical information, and in some cases Dow's aesthetic sources, contained in Johnson's short text of about one hundred pages." 10 According to Johnson, Dow kept a careful day-by-day record during these months, and to read these notebooks, some six in number, is to see the world through the eyes... (shrink)

The correct understanding of the concept of heart in Rahner consists in a recognition that the highest performance of a finite spirit comprises affective, cognitive, and volitional consciousness in a functional union that could be called the heart-mind. Rather than privilege cognition and volition and then consider feelings and moods as separate and purely subjective phenomena, we must recognize the intentionality of certain higher affective responses, i.e., those that have become integrated into the highest operational synthesis of a person who (...) is developing as an adult in matters ethical and mystical. The highest actions of such a person are intersubjective faith, love, and hope. (shrink)

Wilfrid Sellars attempts to deflect traditional objections to the straight rule of inductive acceptance by embedding it in a complicated system of levels. This system rests on a theory of probability in which the meaning of "probable" is reconstructed in the context of Sellars' general theory of practical reason. To say a statement is probable means, according to Sellars, that there is good reason for accepting the statement as true. In this paper I examine Sellars' attempt to resuscitate the straight (...) rule and conclude that not only does he fail, but his account of "probable" is circular. (shrink)

This paper was originally delivered orally at a meeting of the Semiotic Society of America in Lubbock, Texas in 1980 and first published in Semiotics 1980, eds. Michael Herzfeld and Margot Lenhart (New York: Plenum Press, 1982), 427-438. The present version is only lightly revised from the original but a more extensive revision is in process.

The paper introduces cultural studies of science as an alternative to the "legitimation project" in philosophy and sociology of science. The legitimation project stems from belief that the epistemic standing and cultural authority of the sciences need general justification, and that such justification (or its impossibility) arises from the nature or characteristic aim of the sciences. The paper considers three central themes of cultural studies apart from its rejection of these commitments to the legitimation project: first, focus upon the sciences (...) as ongoing and dynamic practices; second, a deflationary and non-representationalist approach to understanding scientific knowledge; and third, foregrounding questions about the significance of scientific practices, statements, and the objects they engage, and how that significance changes within ongoing practices. (shrink)