Schematic Skipping Stones

In figure 170 (p.235), Arnheim (1974) outlines the five different percepts an observer could process based on the one image—a woodcut by Hans Arp. To me, the image resembles a stack of stones that would be perfect for skipping in a lake on a sunny day in July, with hands that were sticky from having just devoured a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. In addition, as soon as I interpreted the figure as skipping stones, I was reminded of the children’s book by Chris Van Allsburg, “The Mysteries of Harris Burdick;” particularly, the image below:



This would be an example of Solso’s (2003) use of a particular schema. In his explanation of the police/nurse scenarios, the subjects conjure a generic police or nurse identity and perceive and remember details accordingly. Schemata, as a result of top-down processing, can inform or transform percepts into intimate reminiscences. This is not the whole story however. Schemata depend on perceptual capabilities to succeed in shaping visual scenes. I was only able to envisage a stack of skipping stones, because I could perceive a sense of depth on the two-dimensional image. What I am wondering is, in what direction did this process of reminiscence happen? Was my experience like that of the participant in the police/nurse experiment? Was I already thinking about sunny days in July and ripples in the lake and therefore would interpret any seemingly round shapes as skipping stones? (This is quite possible, given how nice it is outside today.)

Or did “generative retrieval” occur from the bottom-up? My visual system first differentiated between the black and white shapes, and monocular cues suggested occluded objects of varying sizes, directing me towards three planes. If this is the case, we learned in Arnheim’s (1974) chapter why it happened—what cues led me to process the image as consisting of three planes, but I want to know how. What area or point in the image did my eyes attend to first? We have learned in class readings the perceptual diversity that is possible with the human visual system, but I am still in wonder as to how a multiplicity of percepts could arise from one structural skeleton? I think I am seeking a sense of active agency from my visual system. Right now, I feel that I am a passive observer, bound by gestalten principles and intangible schemata. I am beginning to understand how frustrating it must have been for the painter Mondrian, attempting to supersede the laws evolution has dictated to the human visual system.

Or perhaps (in all reality most likely) my reminiscence emerged somewhere in between bottom-up and top-down processing, the (temporal or physical) point at which my schema and percept synergized.

In reference to Mondrian, an idea occurred to me—if the principles that allow us to envisage more than that which is on the canvas (in other words, if bottom-up processing played a crucial role in my nostalgic visualization of skipping stones on a summer’s day) are eradicated from an artwork, as is the case with Mondrian’s “Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow” is that why I have significantly more trouble utilizing the piece for my next daydream? In other words, do I depend on gestalten principles for cognitive entertainment?

On an entirely different note, I find Arnheim’s emphatic focus on a perceptual interpretation of art is, a refreshing response to the human mind’s susceptibility to external influence as suggested by Solso’s (2003) description of schemata. The question is no longer, “Do you see the same “red” that I see?” but rather, “Why are we both seeing “red” in the first place?” Perhaps the Bauhaus movement’s employment of gestalten principles facilitated the visual accessibility of its works? This goes back to the question of priors and conventions; by relying on priors, rather than (culturally specific) conventions, does art become more intellectually accessible?