Stendhal Syndrome

I was already in a sort of ecstasy, from the idea of being in Florence, close to the great men whose tombs I had seen. Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty, I saw it up close—I touched it, so to speak. I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations…leaving Santa Croce, I experienced palpitations…my spirit was exhausted, I walked in fear of falling.

- Stendhal

Stendhal Syndrome is triggered by beautiful works of art and characterized by “loss of hearing and the sense of color, hallucinations, euphoria, panic and the fear of going mad or even of dying.”


        Is it possible to have a great work of art that can be measured by your reaction to it? I knew someone who did an art project, the sole purpose of which was to induce a headache. It was kind of ridiculous, a sort of hood that covered your whole head in tinfoil. A fan blew in your face and a bunch of white noise was produced. The darkness and close space paired with airflow and noise created a sensory deprivation and overload at the same time. It was ridiculous, but it still caught my attention. I created a theoretical idea for a similarly ambiguously artistic work of art: a painted canvas that immediately caused the viewer to vomit. Could that canvas be framed and referred to as art? Is the reaction important to the definition of art? The conversation over the sensory-overload-tinfoil-hood and whether or not it was art went on for some time, but no one agreed. The problem was that the conversation would be endless.

        I took a brief class at AS-level called “General Studies.” During our fifteen weeks in that class, taught by an eccentric but brilliant music teacher and composer, we spent at least four weeks looking into the question: What is Art? (The capitalization always seemed significant to us.) Can we put the judgment of what is or is not Art into the hands of the artist? …or the audience? Is there some intermediary? Can you refer to the artistry of natural beauty as Art, creator or not? Does subjective quality affect the degree to which a painting can be referred to as Art? Again, is the reaction important? Or perhaps the reception of Art is less important than its intention. Frustrated by weeks of discussion, I decided to come up with my own definition of Art. I identified it as “Beautiful Expression.” I allow for infinite variations in opinion of what applying ‘beautiful’ to anything actually means. Equally, and without knowing if this completely makes sense, I assert that ‘expression’ does not rely upon intentionally defined expression as in the case of an artist. I am even willing to make allowances for that which can make a beautiful impression because it allows nature to be included as Art even though the presence of ‘one who expresses’ is not as clear.

        Designations for the quality of Art are not included. I would tend toward the idea that quality of art is more subjective than objective, that objectivity is close to impossible when measuring the quality of art. I have had too many discussions over the importance of a work within the context of its time. I would tend to argue that important and significant works gain extra quality through their relevance, but it is impossible to ignore ground-breaking originality as its own sign of quality, where ingenuity enriches beyond the limits of pure skill.

        My thought isn't quite finished because I haven't really talked about Stendhal syndrome, but it's fascinating. It's inspiring just to think about the reality of having an anxiety attack because something is so profoundly beautiful. I almost hope it happens to me some day. Apparently it most commonly happens to men between the ages of 25 and 40, so I'll definitely be in the running soon enough.