Jonathan Dronsfield
Heidegger’s writings on art carry out what he sees as the task of providing “a new content for the word ‘art’ and for what it intends to name” (IM 140). From the mid 1930s to the end of the 1950s Heidegger’s work is shaped by a persistent engagement with art. Prior to this he writes nothing substantive on art, and barely mentions art in any publication or lecture. But the 1930s sees major works featuring sections dedicated to art, aesthetics and poetic language, to which lecture courses in 1936 (on Nietzsche), and in 1934, 1941 and 1942 (on Hölderlin), are also devoted, as are numerous essays throughout the 1940s and 1950s. “The Origin of the Work of Art”, begun in 1935 but not published in full until 1960 – in other words, it spans the whole of the period in question – is Heidegger’s most sustained treatment of art, and it is that text that this chapter focuses on. “The Origin of the Work of Art” comprises three lectures, an Epilogue and an Addendum. It is important to note that the essay appeared in two distinct forms and at two separate times: as lectures before the war1 and in print after the war.2 Between the first oral version of 1935 and the first full published version of 1960 the text undergoes constant revision and clarification, and has significant sections added.3 The Epilogue is “in part, written later” than the lectures. The Addendum is made in 1956, and “explains some of the leading words”. The full print version retains “the changing use of language” over the duration of this time.4 The very last line appeals to the “quandary” of an author “having to speak in the language most opportune for each of the various stations on his way” (BW 212). It remains open whether this essay is to be seen as but one station, or as the span of the way.
Why must the word “art” be given a new content? Because art has been reduced to “a routine cultural phenomenon” (BW 203), “a sector of cultural activity” (QCT 34); because philosophical aesthetics has reduced art to the display of the beautiful, where the beautiful, as an object of taste, is the merely enjoyable, where art is just one among many things to be experienced. Enjoyment and experience of art will never be able to discern whether the object enjoyed or experienced is essentially art or the product of an illusion or a machination (CP 356).5 But does what Heidegger calls for as art in “The Origin of the Work of Art” need or warrant the name “art”? In Contributions to Philosophy, written over the early years of “The Origin of the Work of Art”, 1936–8, but not published until 1989, in a section devoted to “’Metaphysics’ and the Origin of the Work of Art”, Heidegger puts forward the following claim: “a moment of history that lacks art can be more historical and more creative than times of a widespread art business” (CP 355). With this notion of lack of art (Kunstlösigkeit) Heidegger is disavowing not genuine art, but rather the derivative popular conception of art that links it with “culture” and “aesthetics”, a conception that goes right back to the end of Greek art. It is only after the end of the great period of Greek art – “that brief but magnificent time” (QCT 34), a moment co-extensive with the end of Greek philosophy – that aesthetics begins, according to Heidegger (N1 80).
What Heidegger is after is an understanding of art as something akin to Greek art (if we can still call it art): the opening up of the being of beings (IM 140), “a single, manifold revealing”, “a revealing that brings forth truth into … appearing”, what the Greeks called techne (QCT34; see Chapter 13). And for this fundamental orientation to be won back for art, aesthetics must be overcome. And to accomplish this entails taking on the way in which metaphysics conceives beings as objectively repre-sentable, since this is exactly what finds expression in aesthetics as “the ground for what is heretofore the ownmost of Western art and its works” (CP 354). Part of what frames “The Origin of the Work of Art” is Hegel’s judgement – Hegel’s Aesthetics is “the most comprehensive reflection on the essence of art that the West possesses”, for Heidegger, precisely because it stems from metaphysics (BW 204) – that in its highest vocation, namely the way in which truth obtains existence for itself, art “is and remains for us a thing of the past” (Hegel 1975: 11). In “The Origin of the Work of Art” at least, Heidegger will contend otherwise, arguing that art is still needed as an essential and necessary way in which truth happens, one that is decisive for human being’s historical existence.
In seeking to retrieve this new content for what is named “art”, Heidegger claims to be laying out not a definition of what is “own-most” to the work of art, for that too would be metaphysical, and too metaphysically philosophical, but the conditions for a decision about what is ownmost to art (M 28), for putting the truth of being to a decision (CP 355). Thus, while “The Origin of the Work of Art” provides no answers to the question of what art is, and instead gives what Heidegger calls “directives” (Weisungen; BW 211) for continued questioning about it, at the same time Heidegger sets out the task of overcoming aesthetics in such a way as to require of us a decision as to how we stand with respect to art. Moreover, for Heidegger art is a way of questioning, and the refusal to give answers to the question of what art is indicates not just how Heidegger understands philosophy, as the unfolding of the question of being, but the importance he attaches to art’s questioning in this unfolding. The insistence on questioning, on the work of art as questioning, on an answer only having force if rooted in and not detached from questioning, and on the task of the thinker on art to question in terms of the work (BW 194–5), all of which is commensurate with thinking being as a question, emerges explicitly towards the end of the lecture, and most especially in what is added to it. This is the sense in which, for Heidegger, we need to see art as a riddle, an enigma (Rätsel; BW 204), and it goes some way to explaining why at the outset Heidegger sets out how and why the movement of questioning about art must be circular, for only through a circular movement of questioning will the question of the origin of the work of art be held open (BW 144; OWAF 331–2; compare “What is decisive is not to get out of the circle but to come into it in the right way”, BT195). Origin is not to be understood as the beginning of a causal process leading to some thing, in the form of an object, for example, or an answer. Thus art is, for Heidegger, not because there are works of art; on the contrary, there are works of art because art is, because art happens. Heidegger understands art to be an origin, and of what and how it is the origin is the question.
Heidegger’s questioning of the work of art begins with its thingly character. He identifies three definitions of thingness – “as bearer of traits, as the unity of a manifold of sensations, as formed matter” (BW 156) – and finds all three wanting, because they define the thing in terms of subjective experience, of immediate, l ived experience. And perhaps, says Heidegger, “lived experience is the element in which art dies” (BW 204). But it is the last of the three definitions that interests Heidegger: the thing as formed matter, the definition of which derives its dominance from accounting for the thingly character of products of human making: equipment, purposeful and useful things, things at once familiar and yet intermediate between a mere thing and a work. Heidegger refutes the definition of an artwork in these terms, because it does not do justice to the work character of the work of art. It is at this point that he introduces an example, a “pictorial representation” of “a common sort of equipment – a pair of peasant shoes” painted by van Gogh (BW 158). And in Heidegger’s description of those shoes, the painting “speaks”. It speaks in such a way as to displace us to somewhere other than where we usually are. That place Heidegger names truth (BW 161).6 In this work of art the truth of the shoes has set itself to work. It is not that the truth has been set to work; it is that truth sets itself to work in the painting, where truth is both the subject and the object (BW 202). “Art is the setting-itself-into-work of truth” (BW 165, trans. mod.), a double genitive in which the truth of the shoes and the world in which they are used appears for the first time.
At the same time the artwork opens up in its own way; it is self-subsistent. Indeed, the creative process is destructive: “almost like a passageway”, which allows the work to emerge, but in which the artist is destroyed (BW 166) or sacrificed (M 28). Thus not only is the artwork for Heidegger not an object of taste, but it is not the product of a genius subject either. Moreover, the artist is not in control of the work. But by self-subsistent Heidegger does not mean to imply that artworks are autonomous, or “works in themselves” (M 28). When we view a sculpture in a museum or a painting in a gallery we are looking at art that has in an important way passed into the realm of tradition and conservation through objectification. What Heidegger calls the “art industry” deals only with artworks as objects; indeed, it objectifies them, at the expense of their “work-being”. Heidegger asks, “Where does a work belong?” The question is itself revealing of how Heidegger understands art. Heidegger answers, “The work belongs, as work, uniquely within the realm that is opened up by itself. For the work-being of the work occurs essentially and only in such opening up” (BW 167). The implication that this happens once only, in the “original” siting of the work, is borne out by Heidegger’s choice of example to illustrate the point: the Greek temple. To enquire into the truth of the work and become more familiar with what the question of truth involves, it is necessary “to make visible once more [erneut sichtbar zu machen] the happening of truth in the work” (BW 167, emphasis added). In other words, making visible now, now that the temple has passed, is an operation of language and of philosophy, and not something that can simply be viewed in the work.
The work of art makes visible what is otherwise invisible – the world: in the case of the temple the radiance of the light of day, the invisible space of air, the appearing of things, and the ground on which and in which humans base their dwelling. The work of the temple is to open up a world of beings such as to show things in their emergence. It is not that the world comes first, to which the temple is then added; it is that a world of beings first emerges as what it is, and that humans’ way of seeing that world is first given to them in the setting up of the temple: “The temple, in its standing there, first gives to things their look and to men their outlook on themselves” (BW 168). This is the basis on which Heidegger can say that artworks are essentially historical: they found the very means by which humans can perceive and thus decide about the world. Artworks are where the “world worlds” in the sense that they allow the world to be seen again but for the first time. But this view remains open only in so far as the work remains a work, that is, only in so far as the artwork keeps open for decision what it shows to emerge. A decision “bases itself on something not mastered, something concealed, confusing; else it would never be a decision” (BW 180). The world of beings opened for decision by the work is more fully in being than is the decided perceptible world we ordinarily inhabit. The work holds open the world by liberating what Heidegger calls the free space of its open region (BW 170). This is the first of two features of the work-being of the work.
The second is the materiality of the work. Here Heidegger introduces an important distinction that touches on a question structuring much art theory of the latter half of the twentieth century. The material of made things, tools, pieces of equipment, is used up in the fabrication of them; it disappears into the form, it is subjugated to usefulness. Such things are more useful the more their materiality is subsumed by usefulness. But the materials out of which an artwork is made are not used up in this way. On the contrary, they come forth for the first time, made visible in the open region of the world the work sets up. Art, then, can be opposed to technical-scientific objectification on the basis of the way in which its materiality exceeds and escapes calculation and mastery (BW 172). This materiality Heidegger calls “earth”. Thus the work of the temple is not just to show things in their emergence, but to illuminate that in and on which they emerge, to set the world thus opened back again on earth. Earth is brought forth, it is unconcealed, but that does not mean that it is penetrable. We may analyse it, we may try to grasp it, but it will forever withdraw from us. We will not see earth for what it properly is unless we accept it as that which is essentially self-secluding and undisclosable. It is through the ways in which the materials of an artwork are arranged that the earth’s self-secluding nature is unfolded. It is the excess of its materiality that denies us the possibility of ever fully mastering the work in our interpretations of it.
What is the relation of world to earth, the two essential components comprising the work-being of the artwork? It is a happening, a movement, where each attains to its essence through its resistance to the other – world and earth are opponents belonging together intimately – hence it is a relation of strife (Streit; BW 174). The world unconceals earth’s self-seclusion; earth tends to draw the world into its concealing. The world makes visible what is otherwise invisible; the earth is materiality that can never be explained or accounted for in terms of what can be shown. The movement between the two is one of concealing-unconcealing and showing-withdrawal, and what happens in the movement is a drawing apart and a holding apart, such that what Heidegger calls a clearing (Lichtung;BW 178) is won. But this open region must be established, taken into possession and attain constancy, and it can only do this, says Heidegger, through the presence of a being. Here we find an opening to one of the reasons why Heidegger has very little to say about abstract artworks (and it bears too on the question of the privileging of the linguistic over the visual in Heidegger’s work, to be addressed below): if the open region is always in need of a being or beings for its establishing and maintenance, then this would appear to privilege figuration, where the figure would enact the play of concealment-unconcealment in its de-figuration. Indeed, the fact that art that is “objectless” and “non-representational” (gegendstandlose) can be shown in museums testifies to modern art’s historical appropriateness, and has more to do with metaphysics than would be implied by what Heidegger contends is its self-conception – “productions no longer able to be works … something for which the suitable word is lacking” (PR 34) – because such exhibitions prove that objectless works are no less objectifiable, by the culture industry, by aesthetics, than are representational ones.7
The clearing is where we encounter those beings we are not, and are granted access to the being that we are. Any being we encounter in a work of art always at the same time withholds itself in a concealment. Any being that is concealed is at the same time brought into the open in its concealment. Thus truth, unconcealment, is also concealment (indeed, a double concealment, since beings can both refuse themselves and present themselves as other than what they are). Truth, then, cannot be a matter of correspondence or correctness, of representation or representational content (see Chapter 8). Truth happens when the coun-terplay of world and earth is unconcealed, always in a particular way, that is, with the presencing of a being, through an unconcealment that is at the same time a concealment. (Another way truth happens is with the thinker’s questioning; hence Heidegger’s insistence that the ques-tionableness of beings is not something negative but that which is most questionworthy about them, and the question a way of keeping open the play of concealment-unconcealment of what is questioned.)8
At the same time that a being is brought forth into the open and a world revealed thereby, a rift (Riss) is formed between earth and world, which sets itself back into earth in the form of the materiality of the work: “the gravity of stone, the mute hardness of wood, the dark glow of colors” (BW 188). The materiality forces itself into the open region as self-secluding, and intensely resists the openness of the world. It is through the resistance of the earth that the strife with world is fixed in place in the form of a figure (Gestalt;BW 189). The figure is the particular way in which the material of the artwork is arranged – through placing (Stellen) and enframing (Ge-stell, from which the sense of montage [Montage] is excluded; BW 209) – such as to structure and shape the strife and rift between world and earth, and beings and materiality, where materiality is not used up but on the contrary is “set free” to be “nothing but itself”. The production of a piece of equipment is completed when the matter is formed according to use and subsumed by that use. Not so a work of art, for which the process of creation sets matter free to participate in the happening of truth. Truth needs matter, what Heidegger calls earth. Truth happens in being composed (“indem sie gedichtet wird”; BW 197). Such is the essential way in which truth is related to creation. Its createdness is part of the work and stands out from it each time in a particular way. It is creation in the sense that what is brought forth each time as the arrangement, framing and fixing in place of the strife between earth and world “never was before and will never come to be again” (BW 187), and “can never be proved or derived from what went before” (BW 200).
The createdness of a work is its “that it is”, and that it is is just what is unusual about it. Its “that it is” is projected ahead of it in the manner of a thrust. The unusualness of its being a work, its extraordinariness, is thrust into the openness of the everyday and the ordinary, opening up another space into which we viewers are displaced, an openness in which our ordinary and usual ways of being in the world are restrained, allowing the work to set up and reveal the otherness of the world. In this way Heidegger tries to account for the self-subsistence of the work, in opposition to the way in which aesthetics situates the artwork in a subject-object relation, on the one hand making of it an object of lived experience or the stimulator of such experience,9 and on the other making of experience something private and the possession of a subject. Instead, Heidegger sees art as the grounding of being for and with one another (BW 193). Those who let the work be in this way and are able to stand in its truth and in the openness of beings thus revealed, including the beings that they themselves are, Heidegger calls “preservers” (Bewahrenden). The responsiveness of preservers is equated with resoluteness (Ent-schlossenheit) as it is set out in Being and Time. Preservers are as much part of a work’s createdness as its creator. Art is a creative preserving of truth. Here we arrive at what it is that the work of art is the origin of: “If art is the origin of work, this means that art lets those who essentially belong together at work, the creator and the preserver, originate, each in his own essence” (BW 196). Art lets this happen: as an origin (Ursprung) art is a leap (Sprung; BW202; see also CP 354), a primal leap bringing things into being from out of its source in the rift.
A work needs preservers, but may not immediately find them. Indeed, Heidegger suggests that a work is all the more tied to preservers “when it is still only waiting for them” (BW 192). Art throws truth towards “coming preservers” (BW 200). Coming preservers are a historical group of human beings. This theme, of what we might call a “people to come”, is taken up in Contributions to Philosophy, and it brings us to a controversial aspect of Heidegger’s conception of the work of art: its relation to history, more specifically to a historical people – and indeed, the people of a nation. In his “Athens lecture” from 1967 Heidegger remarks about modern art that it “no longer originates from the formative borders of a world of the people and nation” (HK 15; see Chapter 7), as if this were a failing.
That the happening of truth in the work is a matter of composition forms the basis of another contentious aspect of Heidegger’s account. Heidegger argues that all art is in essence poetic (BW 197–8). And while he states that poesy in the narrow sense is but one mode of poetic composition in the wider sense, he goes on to aver “the linguistic work, poetry in the narrower sense” as privileged, because “language preserves the original essence of poetry” (BW 198–9). Heidegger’s contention here is that language brings beings into the open for the first time, by naming them, and that all other creation, building and plastic creation, happens only in the openness of this naming. Thus naming means bringing beings both to word and to appearance (see Chapter 14). And this naming has to be seen from both sides, as it were: that of creation, and that of preserving. On the other hand, language is not restricted by Heidegger to the sayable, for it includes the unsayable: poetic language as a projective announcement of beings in their unconcealment prepares the sayable, and at the same time “brings the unsayable as such into the world” (BW 199).10
And this is the moment at which both controversial aspects of the account conjoin. Bearing in mind what was said earlier, that art is a founding in that it gives humans not just what they see but the way they see, Heidegger wants to say that poetry is a founding in a threefold sense: bestowing, grounding and beginning, to each of which there corresponds a preserving. The saying of poetry bears “the concepts of an historical people’s essence, that is, of its belonging to world history” (BW 199), and these are preformed: but not by what we have already, but by what is bestowed by breaking through what is already at hand. The unsayable is the already cast, but in the form of that which is hidden from humans, enclosed in the earth, and which must be drawn forth and set upon the ground. The unsayable is the “withheld determination of historical Dasein itself” (BW 200), a determination that prepares for another beginning. This other beginning for Heidegger is the founding of art when it instigates the strife of truth. But it happens when it is demanded by beings as a whole: “art attains to its historical essence as foundation” when beings demand a grounding in openness (BW 201) – as happens, and for the first time for humans, in Greece. Thus what was the thrust of the work of art is now the thrust of humans’ beginning history again, humans’ displacement into their being a people, the people that they already are or at least were always endowed to be, but which we have never yet seen, at least in the form of a work of art.
1. The first version of the lecture was presented in November 1935 at the Society for the Study of Art in Freiburg/Breisgau. Two further presentations followed, culminating in a three-part series of lectures at the Freie Deutsche Hochstift in Frankfurt/Main at the end of 1936.
2. The essay was published for the first time in 1950, in Holzwege. It appeared in revised form, to include the Addendum, as Der Ursprung des Kunstwerkes, for Reclam in 1960, the text of which reappears as Holzwege, volume 5 of the Gesamtausgabe. The Reclam version also forms the basis of the English translations in Poetry, Language, Thought and (with minor changes) the revised edition of Basic Writings. The last version of the essay, again revised (for instance to include notes from Heidegger’s own copies of the Reclam printing and the third [1957] edition of Holzwege [Bernasconi 1993: 243 n.3]), is the 1960 Reclam edition of Holzwege, which appears independently of the Gesamtausgabe.
3. The very first elaboration of the essay appeared in print only in 1989, and was never presented publicly. According to the editor and executor Hermann Heidegger, the manuscript was “kept in a slipcase, together with the lectures on the same topic”. See “Prefatory Remarks” (OWAF 329).
4. See explanatory note by Heidegger (PLT xxiii-xxv). Heidegger’s later language is undoubtedly indebted to his encounter with the poetry of Hölderlin, lines of which end the lecture; but is it an example of “substituting Denken und Dichtung for science” as is argued by Lacoue-Labarthe, and what relation might that have to what Heidegger calls (in 1945) the overcoming (Verwindung) of nihilism through the hymning of what is German (“im dichtenden Denken und Singen des Deutschen”) (RFT 29; Lacoue-Labarthe 1990: 55)? See Bernasconi (1993) and Taminiaux (1993) for detailed accounts of the differences and political significances of tone, emphasis, example and language across the various versions of the essay. Petzet argues that the lectures “were not allowed to be published” at the time of their composition because they “deviated too much from … official ideology of art” (Petzet 1993: 134).
5. Photography and, especially, cinema seem to be the arts Heidegger reserves most scorn for in this respect; both “have their norm in the ownmost of the metaphysically completed ‘art’ as the organization of the all-producing and all-constituting makability of comportments, fashion, gestures and ‘live-experience’ of ‘actual’ ‘lived-experiences’” (M 24), to which Heidegger adds “sentimentality” in his lectures on Hölderlin’s Der Ister. See also: “Modern human beings nowhere have an originary ‘lived experience’ of artworks anymore. but only of the machine and its destructive essence” (HHI 114).
6. But as Meyer Schapiro points out in his 1968 critique, Heidegger nowhere tells us exactly which of the many paintings of shoes by van Gogh he is referring to, “as if the different versions are interchangeable, all disclosing the same truth”. Schapiro contends that the painting is of the artist’s own shoes, not those of a peasant, and that Heidegger is guilty of the very thing he was seeking to avoid: the projection of a subjectivist interpretation onto the painting (Schapiro 1994). And Jacques Derrida in turn shows how neither Heidegger nor Schapiro can find warrant within the painting to claim that the shoes “belong” at all; indeed, that they are even a pair. Rather, Derrida argues that both Heidegger and Schapiro have to presuppose that the shoes are a pair as a condition of making them available for a subject, in two senses: a subject who can stand in them, whom they would identify as the subject of the painting, and a subject able to put before himself the painting as an object. In this both Heidegger and Schapiro transform the essential uselessness of the painting into something bearing use value, serving them in their desire to appropriate the picture for their own ends, indeed normal usage and normative ends, at the expense of its being a work of art. Against which Derrida suggests that the painting of the shoes was made in order that the shoes, as painted, remain there, in the painting: something they can do only if the painting itself manifests a remainder, an excess (Derrida 1987). Compare Heidegger’s questions in his only other text referencing van Gogh’s painting of the shoes: “What is in being here? The canvas? The brushstrokes? The patches of color?” (IM 38).
7. In the late 1950s Heidegger was particularly taken by the paintings of Paul Klee. Such was the impact of seeing Klee’s work (and reading his texts) that in 1959, according to Petzet and Pöggeler, both of whom were in conversation with Heidegger at that time, Heidegger considered, indeed tried according to Pöggeler, writing a second part to “The Origin of the Work of Art” (Pöggeler 1994: 121; Petzet 1993: 146). For excerpts from Heidegger’s notes on Klee (which are not generally available to the public), see Seubold (1993). For an account of Heidegger’s engagement with the work of other modern painters during this period, in particular Becker-Modersohn, van Gogh, Cézanne, Picasso and Braque, see Petzet (1993: ch. 6, 133–58).
8. Heidegger gives a further example of how truth happens in this way: the act that founds a political state (BW 187).
9. In this respect, Nietzsche’s concept of art as “the greatest stimulant of life” (Nietzsche 1968: 426) is the culmination of metaphysics as machination, because as a stimulant it must of necessity be nurtured (HHI 88; M 27). Heidegger takes the remark to be Nietzsche’s “major statement on art” (N1 76).
10. For Heidegger’s account of openness, now named “the region” (die Gegnet; AS: 6) in modern graphic art – which, in dealing with space, in “controlling” it, is confirmed in its modern character – see his 1969 essay, carved on a lithographer’s stone for the sculptor Chillida (Petzet 1993: 158), “Art and Space”.
Bernasconi, R. 1993. Heidegger in Question: The Art of Existing. Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press.
Derrida, J. 1987. “Restitutions of the Truth in Pointing”. In his The Truth In Painting, I. McLeod (trans.), 255–382. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Hegel, G. W F. [1835–1838] 1975. Hegel’s Aesthetics: Lectures on Fine Art, vol. 1, T. M. Knox (trans.). Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Lacoue-Labarthe, P. 1990. Heidegger, Art and Politics, C. Turner (trans.). Oxford: Blackwell.
Nietzsche, F. [1882–1888] 1968. The Will to Power, W Kaufman & R. J. Hollingdale (trans.). New York: Vintage Books.
Petzet, H. W 1993. Encounters & Dialogues with Martin Heidegger 1929–1976, P Emad & K. Maly (trans.). Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Pöggeler, O. 1994. “Heidegger on Art”. In Martin Heidegger: Politics, Art, and Technology, K. Harries & C. Jamme (eds), 106–124. New York: Holmes & Meier.
Schapiro, M. [1968] 1994. “The Still Life as a Personal Object – A Note on Heidegger and van Gogh”. In his Theory and Philosophy of Art: Style, Artist, and Society, 135–42. New York: George Braziller.
Seubold, G. 1993. “Heideggers nachgelassene Klee-Notizen”.Heidegger Studies 9: 5–12.
Taminiaux, J. 1993. “The Origin of ‘The Origin of the Work of Art’”. In his Poetics, Speculation, and Judgement: The Shadow of the Work of Art from Kant to Phenomenology, M. Gendre (trans.), 153–169. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.
See Heidegger’s “Art and Space”; “The Origin of the Work of Art”, A. Hofstadter (trans.), in Basic Writings; Poetry, Language, Thought; and “Of the Origin of the Work of Art (first elaboration)”.
See R. Bernasconi’s “The Greatness of the Work of Art”, in Bernasconi (1993), 99–116; and Lacoue-Labarthe (1990). See also O. Pöggeler, “Heidegger on Art”, in Martin Heidegger: Politics, Art, and Technology, K. Harries & C. Jamme (eds), 106–124 (New York: Holmes & Meier, 1994); and J. Taminiaux, “The Origin of ‘The Origin of the Work of Art’”, in his Poetics, Speculation, and Judgement: The Shadow of the Work of Art from Kant to Phenomenology, M. Gendre (trans.), 153–169 (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1993).