Tarkovsky’s “hieroglyphic of absolute truth”: Defining the Artistic Image
Andrey Tarkovsky’s philosophy of the purpose of the artistic image is for that image to open “up before us the possibility of interaction with infinity, the great function of the artistic image is to be a kind of detector of infinity…towards which our reason and our feelings go soaring, with joyful, thrilling haste” (109). In chapter 5 of Sculpting in Time, Andrey sets out to define for himself a system of the artistic image for the cinema “within which [he] can feel spontaneous and free” (104). So, after having taken a look at “the goal for all art” in my previous article, we now delve into how Tarkovsky aimed to achieve that goal beginning with a deeper exploration of defining the artistic image or “hieroglyphic of absolute truth” (37).
The Artistic Image: What It is and Is Not
The artistic “image stretches out into infinity, and leads to the absolute. And even what is known as the ‘idea’ of the image, many dimensional and with many meanings, cannot, in the very nature of things, be put into words. But it does find expression in art. When thought is expressed in an artistic image, it means that an exact form has been found for it, the form that comes nearest to conveying the author’s world, to making incarnate his longing for the ideal” (Tarkovsky 104). So, how do we explain with words how to create the artistic image, which explains the absolute that words cannot? Let’s start with what the artistic image is not.
In filmmaking, a sort of visual shorthand has developed throughout its evolution that can be used to clue the audience in immediately to where the director is trying to take them. For example, we might see an actor look out thoughtfully as the picture becomes hazy and dissolves to a scene colored with an amber hue; communicating, “Hey, audience, this is the character’s memories, okay?” Tarkovsky’s philosophy of the artistic image in cinema excluded this and other less blatant forms of visual shorthand. He called that form of cinematic communication “deliberate tendentiousness” or “playing ‘give-away’ with the audience” (109) If “the audience […] knowing exactly why the latter [the director] has performed a particular ‘expressive’ trick, they will no longer sympathise with what is happening or be carried along by it, and will begin to judge its purpose and its execution” (Tarkovsky 111). And if the audience is judging a story’s execution then they are no longer immersed in the story itself, but in the filmmaker’s methodologies. Tarkovsky suggests instead that, “When the audience is unaware of the reasons why the director has used a certain method, he is inclined to believe in the reality of what is happening on screen, to believe in the life the artist is observing (Tarkovsky 111).
Tarkovsky admits to regret on times he compromised that philosophy due to being “insufficiently singleminded” (109). He comes back to haiku again and again as an example of that singlemindedness of his goal for singularity in the artistic image. One example of haiku he gives is:
No, not to my house.
That one, pattering umbrella
Went to my neighbor.
That haiku exemplifies an image, one of singularity, that, through precise detail, becomes unique while also becoming a type or symbol. In Tarkovsky’s words, “We are faced with a paradox: the [artistic] image signifies the fullest possible expression of what is typical, and the more fully [specifically] it expresses it, the more individual, the more original it becomes” (112). Now, if we then take that image of the umbrella passing the lonely observer by and begin using it each time that we know we want to express human loneliness, then it becomes only a type and loses its singularity. We now have a cliche that communicates what we want the audience to know rather than allowing them to experience an artistic image, a singularity, that they must decipher for themselves based out of their own experiences of life. Tarkovsky’s goal for the artistic image is to reach out for an expression of his own understanding of absolute truth that, while coming from his perspective, allows the audience to experience that “hieroglyphic of absolute truth” completely for themselves without coercion. Tarkovsky wanted his audience to be able to experience the artistic image in the same newness of a unique moment with the infinite for themselves as the artist who sees “the world as if for the first time, with no experience to weigh them down. They look at it with the independence of people who have only just arrived” (112-113)!
Questions, Comments, and Concerns
But why not work smarter than harder? Our cinematic shorthand has developed for a reason. It is efficient as a communication practice. And there certainly is a place for that efficiency. Yet, how often do we want to take our audience by the hand and lead them to where we want them to go versus introducing them to the world through our eyes while they come to their own conclusions? If our goal is to stretch out into the infinite and grasp a hold of the absolute, might some of our short-cuts get us lost rather than take us all the way there? Tarkovsky believed the artist’s process of creating “the artistic image must evoke [within the artist] no associations other than those which speak the truth” (Tarkovsky 111). That means a ruthless determination on the artist’s part to pursue knowing absolute truth, so that they can see the world “with the independence of people who have only just arrived” (Tarkovsky 112-113)! This gives opportunity then for the artistic image to truly be “a kind of detector of infinity…towards which our reason and our feelings go soaring, with joyful, thrilling haste” (Tarkovsky 109). “How deep and multidimensional it becomes will depend on the psyche of the reader [audience]” (Tarkovsky 108). The experiencer of art “as he adapts art to his daily needs he will interpret an artistic image to his own ‘advantage’. He sets a work into the context of his life […] for masterpieces are ambivalent and allow for widely differing interpretations” (Tarkovsky 109). “In a word, the [artistic] image is not a certain meaning, expressed by the director, but an entire world reflected as in a drop of water” (Tarkovsky 110). A reflection, though shaped by the object of reflectivity, still allows the observers of that reflection to experience the image for themselves and work through it at their own pace. If that is our goal, will we be able to achieve that consistently and perfectly? No, however, isn’t that challenge what makes the pursuit of art worthwhile?
Works Cited
Andrey, Tarkovsky. Sculpting In Time. Translated by Kitty Hunter-Blair, Twenty-First University of Texas Press, 2023.
Studio Rhodes 
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