A 2008 SAAP paper submission
Schiller, Dewey and Aesthetic Holism
What unites the aesthetic and political work of Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805), author of the Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man, and that of John Dewey is the powerful thesis of “aesthetic holism,” the idea that “…the genuine meanings of things derive from their interactive functions in a developing, self-determining whole” (Daniel O. Dahlstrom). Central political themes of freedom and self-transformation are transformed by Schiller’s aesthetics, but his recommendations for cultivation of citizenship through an “aesthetic education” are better served by Dewey’s naturalistic aesthetics. The aesthetic holism of Schiller and that of Dewey are complementary: reading Schiller through Dewey (and vice versa) reclaims what is living in Schiller’s aesthetics from dualistic Kantianism and reciprocally, Schiller implies fresh social and political implications for Dewey’s Art as Experience. In the specific continuity between Schiller’s aesthetic autonomy (“Heautonomie”) and Dewey’s conception of consummatory experience, there is a footing for a democratic politics that includes a component of “aesthetic education.”
A 2008 SAAP paper submission
Schiller, Dewey and Aesthetic Holism
“What one relishes, nourishes”
This paper is about “composing differences” because it is about the practical difference that thinking about aesthetics—that is, about perception, beauty, sublimity, harmony, creativity, and how these concepts reinforce each other—can make in life. For oth thinkers captured in the title, Schiller and Dewey, our conception of the nature of the aesthetic is inseparable from how it may be reenergized to play a more substantial part in our daily life. John Dewey (1859-1952) will be, for many, the more familiar figure of the two. The Dewey appearing herein hails from the period bracketed by the two great works, Experience and Nature (1925) and Art as Experience (1934); he is the Dewey who has largely finished with James’s “corridor” and the methodological refinement of pragmatism and is now seeking to spend some time in the connecting rooms.
The Schiller of my title is not the well-known British pragmatist, but rather the dramatist, poet, and Kantian Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805), who, born a century before Dewey, nonetheless is well matched with him for a comparative approach: both are humanists with a deep interest in education; both are liberals of their time with an aversion to revolutionary politics. Importantly, both locate basal human experience and significance in aesthetic experiences.
What unites Schiller and Dewey is the thesis of “aesthetic holism,” the idea, following Dahlstrom, that “…the genuine meanings of things derive from their interactive functions in a developing, self-determining whole.” Establishing a contrast between Schiller and Dewey against the background of aesthetic holism reclaims what is living in Schiller’s aesthetics from its dualistic inheritance and reciprocally, Schiller’s speculations suggest new social and political implications of Dewey’s views in Art as Experience. Freedom and self-transformation—the two most significant practical implications of Schiller’s aesthetic thinking—are better served by Dewey’s aesthetic naturalism. The aesthetic holism of Schiller and that of Dewey, however, are complementary, and in the continuity between Schiller’s aesthetic autonomy (“Heautonomie”) and Dewey’s conception of consummatory experience, I hope to show that there is a footing for a politics of “aesthetic education.”
1. Schiller: “Civilization, far from setting us free, in fact creates some new need with every new power it develops in us.”
What is “aesthetic” about aesthetic holism is that “…the spontaneity, individuality, and geniality of human life in all its different historical, linguistic, and cultural expressions” provides aesthetic norms that can guide praxis. Taking these norms seriously leads us to a nonreductive understanding of human nature and the dissolution of various dualisms, including the Enlightenment dichotomy between “…reason, on the one hand, and language, history or nature (including human sensuous nature) on the other.” Schiller and Dewey make this move for two reasons: the broad intellectual movement called Bildungsphilosophie, and by the more specific idea, common to German idealism, romanticism, and pragmatism alike, that the “Given” of nature—including human nature—is determined by human processes of experiencing. Coming to terms with this can lead to discovery of how expressive mediums, most notably language and art, can be used to re-make reality.
Starting from Kantian presuppositions, Schiller was nevertheless deeply suspicious of Kantian dualism, believing that it created new problems that even the “bridge project” of the third Critique could not solve. Kant’s system of noumena as the “unconditioned condition” of phenomena was, for Schiller, both “…an account of the divided consciousness of modern man and a matter for profound regret.” In Schiller, dualism takes the form of reason and nature: “…[A]rt is a daughter of freedom,” he declares,” and takes her orders from the necessity inherent in minds, not from the exigencies of matter.” Schiller’s refusal to problem-solve by moving to a metaphysical monism like Fichte or Schelling leads him to stress the contingency of consciousness’s re-unification; thus the need for choice in how dualisms are to be resolved or overcome; and in the end, a creative approach to what choice will best turn contingency to the ends of freedom and reason.
Nearly a century later, Dewey made a career translating persistent philosophical problems, especially dualisms, into the movements of cultural, political or economic history in areas where abstract theoretical approaches had failed. The concrete, problem-solving approach suggested by Dewey’s pragmatic method seemed perfect to tackle the views—for example—of Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s 1956 book, Theaterprobleme, which suggested 20th century political paradoxes that Schiller’s aesthetic approach to the state and freedom would find difficulty in coping with: tragedies without tragic heroes, evil powers whose faces—Hitler, Stalin—were interchangeable, the anonymity of the bureaucratic state which cannot be “held in view” by any given individual, and the difficulty of providing a social location for personal guilt and responsibility. Assuredly Dewey saw “the isolation of art” in his own time as one of the many results of a kind of western cultural schizophrenia over the place and value of science and technology. “From one point of view,” he claimed in the concluding chapter of Art as Experience, “the problem of recovering an organic place for art in civilization is like the problem of reorganizing our heritage from the past and the insights of present knowledge into a coherent and integrated imaginative union.” In other words, the cure for the problem of art in modernity is more art.
Yet what is remarkable in both Schiller’s and Dewey’s concerns is how closely aesthetic holism, as a philosophical program, relies on the modernist sense of widespread crisis in the intellectual underpinnings of their societies. Although both thinkers recommend divergent aesthetic solutions to what Dewey calls “the divisions from which we suffer,” they shared a number of presuppositions about the role of art. Before looking at one of these—namely, the role that art plays in “composing differences,” or valorizing individuality in experience, it makes sense to first briefly sketch the divergencies of their aesthetic theories.
2. Dewey: “[T]he actual work of art is what the product does with and in experience.”
Schiller’s programmatic statement for social change is his Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man (1795). Its central claim is that “…only an individual or a people brought up primarily on aesthetic sensibility will experience and be capable of social, political, and moral freedom….” If such freedom is the goal of political association, then political institutions and practices should be arranged around the idea that “…it is aesthetic awareness that promotes the wholeness of the human being, and it is the aesthetic state that balances the individuality of humans with the general will of the community.”
How does Schiller reach such an unusual conclusion? Schiller’s earliest exposure to Kant’s third Critique convinced him that reason itself was sublime, thus giving us a “practical independence from nature” and the basis for self-determination. Yet there is something missing from this purely formal analysis for Schiller the poet, the playwright, the cultural critic and political liberal. With a keen sense of tragic, he also evinced the opinion that the promises of the Enlightenment figured more prominently in salon culture than in the masses’ release from “self-incurred tutelage.” “That enlightenment of the mind,” he claimed, “which is the not altogether groundless boast of our refined classes, has had on the whole so little of an ennobling influence on feeling and character that it has tended rather to bolster up depravity by providing it with the support of precepts.”
The Enlightenment’s failure to serve the “whole person” pushed Schiller in the direction of holism. “Reason does indeed demand unity,” Schiller tells us, “but Nature demands multiplicity; and both these kinds of law make their claim upon man.” IWhile reason tends toward understanding in universal, conceptual terms, nature always and only displays to us the immediate uniqueness of each thing. To appreciate nature’s multiplicity, Schiller relies on a notion that Kant had spurned, that of a “science of perception” found in the aesthetics of rationalist metaphysician A.G. Baumgarten. Schiller’s own term for the recognition of beauty in the particulars of nature is Heautonomie, a concept that Dewey would have also found aesthetically useful.
While I will back up this assertion in the next section, I note that Dewey’s first explicit foray into aesthetic theory (chapter nine of Experience and Nature) begins by seeming to reject the distinction that makes Heautonomie possible. Criticizing the Greeks for “almost universal confusion of the artistic and the esthetic,” he complains that, for them, everyday experience, including the production of art and artisan wares,
…was taken to be a realization of inferior portions of nature, those infected with chance and change, the less Being part of the cosmos. Thus while experience meant art, art reflected the contingencies and partialities of nature, while science—theory—exhibited its necessities and universalities.
Dewey’s aesthetics begins, first, by turning on its head this Greek interpretive framework of changeless/discovered versus changeable/fabricated. Second, Dewey considers that, in the light of a naturalistic frame of reference, Schiller’s question of reason, nature and freedom has been solved—or perhaps is has always been a pseudo-problem. In fact, Art as Experience begins—instead of 18th-century rational man in rebus—with Dewey’s theory of the experience of “the live creature.” All the facets we expect from a full-blooded aesthetic theory—form, expression, spontaneity, beauty—are developed from the idea that “…art is a continuation, by means of intelligent selection and arrangement, of natural tendencies of natural events….”
The normative thrust of Dewey’s proto-aesthetic in Experience and Nature concerns itself with how “experience can fail to be art,” that is, “…when the regular, repetitious, and the novel [and] contingent in nature fail to sustain and inform each other in a productive activity possessed of immanent and directly enjoyed meaning.” At the level of the individual person, Dewey turns our attention away from the intellectualist abstraction of “a life worth living” toward the idea of consummatory experience, or “experience worth having.” He pushes the envelope of James’s view that relations are experienced as well as qualities. There are times, he says, when we transact with the world in such a way that our experience is individualized and unified (“every successive part flows freely, without seam and without unfilled blanks”), is permeated by emotions and is dialectical in character (“as one part leads into another and as one part carries on what went before, each gains distinctness in itself”). Consummatory experiences are neither good nor evil, reasonable nor unreasonable, but they are the singularly satisfying elements of the live creature’s efforts to adapt itself and its environment in a process of mutual “undergoing” and “doing.” Although aesthetic experiences are therefore quite real, Dewey implies that they are uncommon—and on the phenomenological terms of justification that he sets for aesthetic experience, the rarity of the consummatory itself is unsatisfying, demanding action.
The differences continue to manifest. In the matter of Schiller, the hope that humans were not created with an incommensurable fissure in their nature, fueled by the enticement of the Kantian dictum, “Sapere aude!” draws him to the conclusion that if enlightenment proceeds from character, reason cannot be fully responsible for producing it. For Dewey, accepting the claim that “experience is limited by all the causes which interfere with perception of the relations between undergoing and doing” is a blanket invitation to cultural criticism of social conditions that produce “anesthetic” experience. The difference between them may be explained by the fact that Schiller’s thought, steeped in the republican passion for turning subjects into citizens, revolves around the transformative individual—the “schöne Seele” or “beautiful soul.” Further, it is disappointing if unsurprising that Schiller manifested the familiar antipathy of his times to Dewey’s beloved democracy. Chytry summarizes this distaste in the political overtones of Schiller’s dramas:
Schiller’s thespic heroes, sinews of republican stoicism, invariably act for the good in place of the people’s spontaneous exercise of their freedom, and it is not democracy but representative institutions that remain the consistent institutional ideal of Schiller’s political theory: a happy medium between large and small assemblies, between popular lawlessness and autocratic despotism.
By contrast, the ideal of aesthetic education in Dewey is irretrievably linked to a liberal democracy under conditions of cultural pluralism. If it is true, as he claims, that in opposition to the status quo of social divisions and barriers, “the first stirrings of dissatisfaction and the first intimations of a better future are always found in works of art,” then art products serve as a kind of early warning system for inequality and prejudice. The positive version of this notion is that in a democracy where “imagination is the chief instrument of the good,” each citizen must live under the “strenuous doctrine” demanding criticism of existing values and their creative reconstruction.
3. Dewey: “All observed objects that are identified without reflection … exhibit an integral union of sense quality and meaning in a single firm texture.”
In Schiller’s aesthetic theory, the ancient political question of reconciling the collective and the individual coincides with the relatively more recent problem of the nature of freedom in the dichotomy of reason and nature. Kant strove, in the third Critique, to show that the aesthetic judgment mediated between the factual and the moral, and Schiller seemed satisfied with this answer, endorsing it in several early essays. Yet Schiller wants to extend human self-determination to include the proposal that beauty is achieved through the self-determination of the senses. “Heautonomie” is, as we have noted, Schiller’s term for this capacity to see each object for its particular beauty by contemplating it as “self-purposive”—as not determined by things outside itself. Since the exercise of this ability to “compose differences” locates the judgment of beauty not in a feeling of disinterested pleasure, as Kant had, but rather in our judgments about the “self-purposive” uniqueness of individual things and subjects, Schiller encourages the use of imagination in the service of recognition of the individual in its particularity. It allows us to supersede the totalizing power of universalizing abstractions employed by the hard sciences and find freedom in perceiving the particular. In the terms of Schiller’s essay “On Naïve and Sentimental Poetry,” we are reappropriating originary, “naïve” aesthetic experience from our current modernist, “sentimental” reflections.
This aspect of a “science of perception” also has an intersubjective dimension for Schiller the playwright, who is hunting beyond the rules of classical form for what, for example, evokes certain feelings in the audience of a tragedy. “If we are supposed to enter into the emotions of another,” he muses, “then all the inner conditions for this emotion must be present within us…. Yet, how is it possible to feel someone else’s condition within ourselves, if we have not previously found ourselves in the condition that the other person is in?” For Schiller, recognizing natural objects “for their own sake” will lead to the same sort of recognition for individual subjects, the ideal outcome of which would be an “…aesthetic world [in which] each is a natural being [Naturwesen], a free citizen, who has equal rights with the noblest, and never once ought to be constrained for the sake of the whole, but must absolutely consent to everything.” Education for the social recognition of individuals in their particularity coincides with the sharpening of our sense of beauty. In addition, Schiller emphasizes art’s power to restore harmony and wholeness to the individual—especially under modern conditions of corporatism and specialized division of labor—and that aesthetic sensibility promotes empathy and awareness.
In his use of “absolute consent” in the last quote, Schiller seems to be positioning aesthetic awareness as an essential link between Kantian moral freedom in terms of laws we prescribe to ourselves, and Rousseau’s sense of political freedom as the widest possible liberty compatible with the liberty of all. What has not been made clear, and what Schiller cannot make clear with the resources available, is precisely how Heautonomie, the capacity to “compose differences,” could entail the guiding ideal of the self-realization of each. What Schiller really needs is a theory of culture as “second nature.” Such a theory would allow him to supersede the idea that freedom is exclusively aligned against natural necessity, a focus that cannot establish our understanding of freedom and constraint at a level of civil, interpersonal coordination between the State and the “natural necessity” outside its gates, and which certainly fails to acknowledge the freedom and pleasure we acknowledge in coordinated social settings.
Fortunately, Dewey does provide such a theoretical apparatus; his convictions on how individuals meaningfully transact their lives in and through cultures of habit and learning are found in his Democracy and Education (1916) and Human Nature and Conduct (1922). Like Schiller, Dewey saw the increase of corporatism and specialization of labor as a threat to the communicative functions of culture. Very early in Art as Experience, after establishing the place of consummatory or aesthetic moments in the experience of the “live creature,” Dewey claims that, “Art is the living and concrete proof that man is capable of restoring consciously, and thus on the plane of meaning, the union of sense, need, impulse and action characteristic of the live creature.” What Schiller sensed as art’s intangible power to evoke judgments of beauty and sublimity is, in Dewey, supervenient upon experiences where “…the material experienced runs its course to fulfillment,” providing the satisfaction of a consummation. “Such an experience is a whole and carries with it its own individualizing quality and self-sufficiency,” Dewey notes. Experiences of beauty in art and nature, as well as in play, thought, and work are memorable precisely because they each have a unique, implicitly narrative form structured by equilibria of “doings” and “undergoings.” They are “little histories” within the broader flow of experience, most of which, regrettably, washes over us without much conscious regard.
Reading Schiller’s focus on “composing differences” onto this canvas, his conclusion that the mode of “Heautonomous” aesthetic awareness is absolutely crucial to human wholeness would be validated. Consummatory experiences involving self, world and others can occur, on Dewey’s view, in any activity or setting, but they are what makes experience worth having, as it were—their justification is neither rational nor moral, but phenomenological: in aesthetic experience, “…perception replaces bare recognition. There is an act of reconstructive doing, and consciousness becomes fresh and alive.” Conversely, if we read Dewey through Schiller, we see the former historicizing the capacity for Heautonomie, which corresponds to the “naïve” in Schiller’s naïve/sentimental taxonomy for the history of art. In doing so, Dewey notes that “the longer course of every art is marked by shifts of emphasis” between the immediate, the concrete, the multiple, on the one hand and the abstract and theoretical, which “allows least play to individual variations,” on the other. We would expect this to be the case of the art of politics, as well.
Although the meaning of every artistic production is, in a certain sense, limited by the cultural contexts of its own time, Dewey believes that an aesthetic theory “based on understanding of the constant relation of self and world amid variation in their actual contents would render enjoyment wider and more sympathetic.” It also, as we have already noted, provides avenues of communicative interchange between individuals and cultures that can be widened:
Tangled scenes of life are made more intelligible in esthetic experience: not, however, as reflection and science render things more intelligible by reduction to conceptual form, but by presenting their meanings as the matter of clarified, coherent, and intensified or “impassioned” experience.
In his later writings, Dewey relishes the pleasure of fluid social coordination as much as Schiller takes a tragedian’s delight in the irremediable opposition of reason and nature. A Deweyan naturalization of Heautonomie, of imaginative composition of differences freed from the tyranny of the concept, has suggested the need to rethink this opposition, with the practical implication being that the satisfactions underlying artistic production as well as appreciation may yet underwrite freedom. This freedom will not, of course, be the beacon of transcendental, unconstrained will that originally attracted Schiller. It will be the freedom of the potter or poet who has discovered harmony through their hands or eyes, rather than that of the revolutionary or the epistemologist.
 Daniel O. Dahlstrom, “The Aesthetic Holism of Hamann, Herder, and Schiller,” in Karl Ameriks, ed., The Cambridge Companion to German Idealism (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 76.
 Friedrich Schiller, Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man, trans. Elizabeth M. Wilkinson and L.A. Willoughby, in Friedrich Schiller: Essays, eds. Walter Hinderer and Daniel O. Dahlstrom (New York: Continuum Press, 1993), 97.
 Dahlstrom, “Aesthetic Holism,” 76.
 On Bildung, see the introduction to James A. Good, A Search for Unity in Diversity: The “Permanent Hegelian Deposit” in the Philosophy of John Dewey (Lanham, Maryland: Lexington Books, 2006); also John H. Zammito, Kant, Herder, and the Birth of Anthropology (Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 2002).
 A notable, recent treatment of this subject that integrates pragmatist concerns with those of another aesthetic holist, Johann Gottfried von Herder, is Mitchell Aboulafia, “Expressivism and Mead’s Social Self,” in A Companion to Pragmatism, eds. John R. Shook and Joseph Margolis (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 193-201.
 Lesley Sharpe, Friedrich Schiller: Drama, Thought and Politics (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 136.
 Schiller, Aesthetic Education, 88-89.
 Dürrenmatt, Theaterprobleme, in Theaterschriften und Reden (Zurich: Verlag der Arche, 1956), 119; see Sharpe, Friedrich Schiller, 157.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 340.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 9.
 Josef Chytry, The Aesthetic State: A Quest in Modern German Thought (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 102, 91.
 Schiller endorses a pared-down version of Kant’s thesis that our sense of the sublime in nature stems from the impression produced on us by large, powerful things or events (e.g. the Alps, a thunderstorm) that are beyond all human control. “But in what we are wont to call the sublime in nature,” Kant alleges in the Critique of Judgment, “there is such an absence of anything leading to particular objective principles and corresponding forms of nature, that it is rather in its chaos, or in its wildest and most irregular disorder and desolation, provided it gives signs of magnitude and power, that nature chiefly excites the ideas of the sublime”; Critique of Judgment 5: 246.
 Schiller, “On the Sublime,” in Friedrich Schiller: Essays, 27.
 Schiller, Aesthetic Education, 96.
 Schiller, Aesthetic Education, 93.
 See Mary J. Gregor, “Baumgarten’s Aesthetica,” Review of Metaphysics 37 (December 1983): 357-385.
 See section three.
 Dewey, Experience and Nature, in in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1924-1953, vol. 1, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1986), 266.
 For a theory of rationality as communicative action, see Experience and Nature, chapter five, “Nature, Communication and Meaning”; for a theory of nature as already embedded with pretheoretical values, see Experience and Nature, chapter two, “Existence as Precarious and Stable”; for a naturalistic theory of freedom, see Dewey’s “Philosophies of Freedom,” in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1924-1953, vol. 3, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1984).
 Dewey, Experience and Nature, 291.
 Ibid., 271.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 43.
 Ibid., 50 ff.
 Schiller, Aesthetic Education, 107; emphasis added.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 51.
 See ibid., chapter 14, “Art and Civilization.”
 Chytry, Aesthetic State, 94.
 Dewey is highly critical of laissez-faire liberalism, and calls for a “renascent” version of this political philosophy more in line with the thought of T.H. Green, and J.S. Mill; see his Liberalism and Social Action, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, vol. 11, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1987).
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 348.
 Ibid., 350.
 Dewey, Construction and Criticism, in John Dewey: The Later Works, 1925-1953, vol. 5., ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press), 135, 138.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 263.
 For example, when he asserts in Über das Pathetische (On Tragic Pity), “Thus aesthetic judgment leaves us free and elevates and inspires us because we find ourselves in an apparent advantage over the realm of the senses simply through the power to will absolutely and our moral nature itself”; quoted in Sharpe, Friedrich Schiller, 128.
 Sharpe, Friedrich Schiller, 170; Sharpe describes Schiller’s naïve poet as “able to give direct representation to what he sees and experiences without interposing his personality and reflexion on the object between it and the reader,” ibid., 176. By contrast, the sentimental poet “feels the world he lives in to be alien and imperfect, contrasting unfavourably with a more harmonious world which exists only in his imagination,” ibid., 177.
 Schiller, “On the Art of Tragedy,” in Friedrich Schiller: Essays, 12. Compare Dewey: “For to perceive, a beholder must create his own experience. And his creation must include relations comparable to those which the original producer underwent”; Art as Experience, 60.
 Schiller, quoted in Chytry, Aesthetic State, 85.
 For Kant’s original statement of why moralität and Recht must remain separate, see the “Introduction to the Doctrine of Right” in Metaphysics of Morals, in Practical Philosophy, AK 6:232, 388-89.
 The most significant resources toward such a theory were being developed in terms of the origins of language by Schiller’s colleague and friend, Wilhelm von Humboldt, who also had the honor of being one of the first to attempt to synthesize Schiller’s work as a poet and philosopher in Über Schiller und den Gang seiner Geistentwicklung (1830).
 Dewey, Democracy and Education, in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1924, vol. 9, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1980); Human Nature and Conduct, in in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1924, vol. 14, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1983).
 See Sharpe, Friedrich Schiller, 148.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 31.
 Ibid., 42. An epistemological basis for such claims has already been laid in “The Postulate of Immediate Empiricism,” in which Dewey proposes, “Immediate empiricism postulates that things—anything, everything, in the ordinary or non-technical use of the term ‘thing’—are what they are experienced as. Hence, if one wishes to describe anything truly, his task is to tell what it is experienced as being”; in John Dewey: The Middle Works, 1899-1924, vol. 3, ed. Jo Ann Boydston (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1977), 158.
 Dewey, Art as Experience, 59.
 This occurs in chapter eleven of Art as Experience, which pay closes attention to the complex of issues Schiller was dealing with, and includes a critique of Kant’s aesthetic theory.
 Ibid., 256.
 Ibid., 295.
 This turn to the retail epistemologies of highly competent practice is an important one, and has not substantially been taken by pragmatism even today. See Richard Sennett, The Craftsman (New Haven: Yale, 2008).