Authenticity


Andrew potter <the authenticity hoax>, Seong-jin Cho <Franz Liszt, Années de pèlerinage - Italie> 



“There’s no point dwelling on any of this, though, because this is the authenticity hoax in full throat: a dopey nostalgia for a nonexistent past, a one-sided suspicion of the modern world, and stagnant and reactionary politics masquerading as something personally meaningful and socially progressive. At the heart of the authenticity hoax is the assumption that what is good for me must also be good for society, good for the planet, and just plain old Good. It assumes that what is spiritually satisfying will also be morally praiseworthy, and that if you find your way to the first, the second will follow as a matter of course.”

“As we’ve seen, more often than not, the search for the authentic quickly turns into a socially regressive arms race that only intensifies the very competition form which we’re supposedly trying to escape.”

“In order to see ourselves clear of the authenticity hoax, we need to come to terms with the modern world and accept that the last 250 years or so has not been a tragic mistake. At the very least we have to concede that while there has been a trade-off, losses to balance against the benefits, on the whole it would be a mistake to want to pull the plug, put the wagon train in reverse, and head back into the nostalgic comforts of history.”

“Ludwig Wittgenstein said that the trick to doing philosophy is knowing when to stop asking the questions that lead us away. When it comes to the modern search for authenticity, the irony is that the only way to find what we’re really after might be to stop looking”




Andrew potter, The Authenticity hoax: how we got lost finding ourselves, HapperCollins, 2010 p361
© Andrew potter, HapperCollins

The term ‘authenticity’ requires thoughtful consideration. Labeling creations as authentic can create rivalry and discord. It is essential to examine both the art itself and the matrix in which it operates.




Seong-jin Cho, Extrakonzert “Le Piano Symphonique”, KKL Luzern(Switzeralnd), 2024
©ChristophKostlinDG

It was Wednesday 13.03.2024, after the mentoring with Varsha and Jerome. I bought the cheapest student ticket an hour before the concert. I sat down, feeling cynical as I watched the excited crowd around me. I thought about various discussions about the competitions, the art market and sponsorship. But in the last ten minutes I could not think of anything else. I felt like I was witnessing someone's painful death right in front of my eyes. I wanted to cry. It was not just about listening to Liszt's music; it was about experiencing the pianist's life through his melodies. He poured his soul into his performance, his face contorted with real pain. At that moment, I finally experienced Roquentin's nausea disappearing in an instant:

“A while ago I was certainly far from swimming in beatitudes. On the surface I was counting my money, mechanically. Underneath stagnated all those unpleasant thoughts which took the form of unformulated questions, mute astonishments and which leave me neither day nor night. Thoughts of Anny, of my wasted life. And then, still further down, Nausea, timid as dawn. But there was no music then, I was morose and calm. All the things around me were made of the same material as I, a sort of messy suffering.”

“Now there is this song on the saxophone. And I am ashamed. A glorious little suffering has just been born, and exemplary suffering. Four notes on the saxophone. They come and go, they seem to say: You must be like us, suffer in rhythm.”1


1) Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea, Penguin Books edition, 1938