Is there beauty in ephemerality?

[Seryndelle]

I recently read a story about a group of friends who, while camping for two weeks, wrote a book amongst themselves. Each night, around the campfire, they read out the pages they'd written that day. But soon enough, their two-week camping trip came to an end, and on their final night together, they burnt every last page they'd written.

Upon reading this story, I was immediately struck by the simple question: why? Why did they burn the art they'd produced together? Why did they consign their hard work to memory alone, when they might have been able to keep the book as a tangible reminder of the joy they'd found in producing it? Far in the future, towards the end of their lives, they might not have the option of spending time with their friends and fellow authors in the flesh, but if they still had the pages they'd written to hand, a part of their friends would remain with them.

But in the comments, I found people justifying their choice (not that their choice needs to be justified, per se—it is their own property, after all). People opined that the book's ephemerality—the fact that it no longer exists physically, and instead dwells solely in the memory of its authors—is what makes it beautiful.

Perhaps I'm being pedantic, but I found that argument at best unsupported with evidence, and at worst fallacious. Of course beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so your mileage may vary, but I am of the opinion that ephemerality (in other words, being short-lived or fleeting in nature) is not necessarily the source of beauty in this case. It doesn't necessarily subtract from the beauty, but neither does it bestow additional beauty upon a work of art.

I do, however, grant that there are other approaches one can take to this. For instance, there is a reason we mourn the burning of the Library of Alexandria and the countless works of art (both secular and religious) that were lost during Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries. We need not have seen the lost works of art to value them. We are deprived of any information about what was lost other than the fact that they were (a) works of art and (b) lost forever. So given that we can only judge these artworks based on their ephemerality, and we still judge them to have had aesthetic value, does that mean we do naturally value ephemerality in aesthetics? Or conversely, does it mean that ephemerality is something to be mourned? (Note that this is not precisely the question that's asked in the poll attached to this post; I'm thinking out loud here, really, and I'm writing everything down so I can retrace my train of thought.)

I could probably write much more on this subject—aesthetics is my number one favourite area of philosophy!—but first, I'd love to hear what you all have to say on the matter! Does ephemerality hold aesthetic value—in other words, is there beauty in fleeting things because they're fleeting things?

[night-at-the-musian]

I've seen a lot of ephemerality in art, especially during my time as an undergrad. The works of Andy Goldsworthy immediately come to mind, since his works tend to use only that which can be found in nature (leaves, rocks, etc). His works only exist in photographs for the most part, since his works naturally decay, topple, and disappear.



Yet, in preserving them, their ephemerality disappears. You can always look at it - but you know that it's gone by the time you see it. A ghost of a work of art that no longer exists. Ephemerality is something I personally can't stand as an archivist, lost media will forever bore a hole in my stomach; but who am I to control what an artist does with their art?

[candycanearter07]

I am firmly against ephemerality, but more because it sucks not knowing what something looked like. I'm more fine with the kind where you have a picture of it, but one of my big regrets is not saving any of my drawings before 2021, and only sharing them through screenshots I'd delete after.. Though I do have some autosave flash files I can't open anymore that will also always loom at the bottom of my art dump folder..

[ayn_sweeet]

People opined that the book's ephemerality—the fact that it no longer exists physically, and instead dwells solely in the memory of its authors—is what makes it beautiful.

I'll personally never understand how the memories of things can be "more beautiful" or "more memorable" once the thing in particular no longer exists. If humans lived by this, imagine how history would've wound up. We probably wouldn't know much to anything about the past with all evidence gone. History would just be pieces of secondary sources scattered around the internet.

I don’t have many videos from my childhood. Sure, there are plenty of photos, but hardly any videos, and it’s something I think about a lot. I really wish my parents had taken the time to film more moments, even if it was just a half-hour compilation of me crying my eyes out as a baby. It’s honestly sad to think I’ll never get to see those little snippets of my life.

The absence of something doesn’t make it more beautiful; it can actually make things feel worse. Like that scene in Titanic where Rose says she never had a picture of Jack, and he only exists in her memory. That’s not beautiful—it’s heart-breaking and almost torturous.
Memories fade, and our minds can play tricks on us. We might remember the feelings, but the details can get hazy over time.

Plus, think about future generations. Wouldn’t it be amazing for them to see what life was like back then? To hear our voices, see our laughter, and understand the context of our lives? It’s a way of connecting the past to the present, and it’s a gift we can give to those who come after us.         

I get wanting to create memories, but what’s the harm in keeping some evidence of those moments? Capturing those experiences doesn’t take away from their beauty; it adds to it. Memories are great, but having something to hold onto makes them even more special. Why not celebrate those moments with a little more than just our minds?

[dream]

What struck me about the original post and the comments so far is the focus on remembering; the past. Even the OP's cited counter-opinion, which argued in favor of ephemerality, was framed this way ("People opined that the book's ephemerality—the fact that it no longer exists physically, and instead dwells solely in the memory of its authors—is what makes it beautiful.").

But my thoughts went elsewhere. I think what made that time in the woods meaningful was their focus on the present and their creation. And I believe there is no time in our life when we cannot focus on the present and create. And so, by destroying their creation that final night at the campfire, they kept their focus forward. Onward within the present. Living. Creating. Blissfully forgetting. Never looking back. There is beauty in that.

Only in the present can you do, can you be, can life be lived, can moments worth remembering be created, had, and held. Until we are dead, the present is ours to embrace. Why waste a moment? Perhaps we are not meant to look back.

[Lyonid]

I have been thinking about this term as it has been getting quite popular when talking about new social media platforms. I think it also needs a lot more context on whether we are talking about it as a condition (like watching a shooting star) or an object (like a melon  ). When we see an insect trapped in amber, some would ascribe beauty to it since nature itself managed to capture the poor thing in eternal existence. Obviously there is much to be argued here, but to me personally, it's not only pretty to look at, but interesting to think about.

I would like to also note how ephemeral media was made from great intent. Old media depicting queerness is oftentimes attributed to acts of self-expression or community-building, and them not existing anymore may have saved someone's life in the past. Digging them up, archiving them and restoring them is important and empowering work, yet we know that there is a lot that is lost. Acknowledging that is quite beautiful to me.

As we follow this path of datafying all parts of our lives, realizing that the existence of all kinds of stuff is out of our control feels like a relief to me.

[TheFrugalGamer]

I don't really always know where I stand on this, because I can see both sides of the argument here. Still, I always find the discussion around the subject fascinating.

One of my favorite examples of this is the art duo Christo and Jean-Claude. They were a married couple, independently wealthy, who would create huge art structures and displays that were always meant to be taken down afterwards. A few of their most notable ones are the Valley Curtain, a huge length of fabric that was hung across the Colorado highway and taken down afterwards, and the Gates, an installation of gates in Central Park that were only up for a limited time. I think the purpose of their art was to create an experience, and trying to keep it up would destroy its significance, making it trite and unremarkable.

Jacob Gellar did a video that also touches on this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukJ_UA-JS5o, and I think he would come down on the side of ephemerality. Because how much can we reasonably save anyway? And if we could somehow manage to preserve everything we made, would it be meaningful among the mounds of unrelated data that we'd have to sift through to get to it?

I think focusing on preserving art and experiences can distract us from really enjoying them in the moment, and forming connections and memories.

[plasticseaslug]

I take an egalitarian approach to the definition of art. One aspect in particular I would like to highlight is the right to privacy in art. That is, an artist does not have to create something with the intention of showing others. There are many regarded art pieces and mediums now that lean on that privacy, such as Goya's black paintings. Going off of this, ephermerality can be judged similarly. Considering that art cannot be changed from being art because it cannot be seen by the public, that also includes art that cannot be seen because it is no longer there.

But that alone does not say that the art gains a level of value because it is not there any more. I would also argue that the temporary aspect can add a certain new element to the effect of the work. For example, performance art is something fleeting, only truly real to those who initially experienced it. Yes, there are recordings of those performances, but they cannot truly produce the same effect.

Additionally, pieces no longer existing can add a new aspect to the meta to analyze, such as knowing that a certain art piece was stolen, or that Who's Afraid of Red Yellow and Blue iii was destroyed out of anti-intellectualism and antisemitism.

Art being temporary does not necessarily make it worth more. However, it is another aspect of the art to be considered, and therefore has the potential to add value to the piece. In the case you provided, it made the novel feel like something communal among that group of people, giving them a sense of community, of secrecy. That purpose is itself worthwhile.