Abstract
Two hundred years ago the Picturesque, far from being a trivial aesthetic habit, was a complex proposition about composing the relation between power and its appearance. The desire to set up compositions that look less controlled than one might expect can be discovered in many other times and places than late 18th-century England. In the 11th-century Japanese novel The Tale of Genji, the aesthetic mode that allows powerful people to appear loose and ragged under certain conditions threads its way throughout the story. Cultivated rusticity, momentary novelty, and the passage of time appear in episodes and descriptions of gardens, romantic encounters, music, and calligraphy. Neither Heian Japan nor Georgian England subscribed exclusively to this potentially deceptive aesthetic mode, but by abstracting from wandering paths and artfully cracked walls, this compositional move to underplay the extent of control appears in many forms and places. By looking closely at an example from a cultural tradition often thought to have some elements of the Picturesque, one recovers significant implications in the differences between compositions that announce themselves and those that slip in unnoticed.
This article requires a subscription to view the full text. If you have a subscription you may use the login form below to view the article. Access to this article can also be purchased.