Translation Prevod
UDC: 159.9:1
On the Perception of the Radio Play
Leopold Blaustein
Translated from French by Hicham Jakha
Cross-checked with Polish in cooperation with Alicja Jakha and Filip Borek
Polish fragments translated by Filip Borek and Alicja Jakha Abstract and keywords prepared by Hicham Jakha Bibliography edited by Hicham Jakha
Abstract
Blaustein explores the phenomenon of listening to the radio play. The idea put forth by the author is that the radio play engages perception, treating the latter in a broad sense. Perception is not necessarily restricted to seeing; rather, it is understood as being cross-modal, as involving different senses. The main sense involved in the case of radio plays is hearing, which enables one to listen to the radio. Radio listeners are drawn into radio plays as media of hearing. Instead of vision, listeners engage their "acousion," a
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term coined by Blaustein to capture the perceptual distinctness of hearing; acousion is the auditive perception of radio plays. Listening to a radio play is a lived experience or a psychic phenomenon, precisely due to the activeness of acousion. Listeners do not only passively perceive or hear auditive data. They also engage their imaginative faculties, presenting to themselves, mentally, the world of the action; by so doing, listeners enable the act of listening. According to Blaustein, presentations, even imaginative ones, are basic. By listening to a radio play, the listener imaginatively presents the world of the action to themselves, as if they were watching a theater play. However, going beyond the realm of presentations, other factors are examined, e.g., the listeners focus is turned into the world represented—the world within—, which is given to them via auditive data and dialogue.
Keywords: perception, hearing, listening, aesthetic experience, radio play, imagination.
O zaznavanju radijske igre
Povzetek
398
Blaustein obravnava fenomen poslušanja radijske igre. Predstavi idejo, da radijska igra zadeva zaznavanje v širokem smislu. Zaznavanje se namreč ne omejuje samo na gledanje, temveč je multimodalno, vključuje različne čute. Poglavitni čut v primeru radijske igre je sluh, ki nam omogoča, da prisluhnemo radiu. Poslušalce radijske igre pritegnejo kot mediji sluha. Namesto vida je nagovorjena poslušalčeva »akuzija«; Blaustein termin vpelje zato, da bi opredelil zaznavano posebnost sluha: akuzija je avditivna zaznava radijske igre. Poslušanje radijske igre je izkustvo oziroma psihični fenomen natanko zaradi aktivnosti akuzije. Ne gre za to, da bi poslušalci samo pasivno sprejemali avditivne podatke. Spodbujene so tudi njihove imaginativne sposobnosti; sami sebi mentalno predstavljajo svet dogajanja in tako omogočajo dejanje poslušanja. Po Blausteinu so namreč predstave, tudi imaginativne, temeljnega pomena. Ko posluša radijsko igro, si poslušalec imaginativno predstavlja svet dogajanja, kakor da bi gledal gledališko predstavo. Onkraj okrožja predstav Blaustein obravnava tudi druge dejavnike, npr.: poslušalec se osredotoča na predstavljeni svet - svet znotraj igre -, ki se mu daje s pomočjo avditivnih podatkov in dialogov.
Ključne besede: zaznavanje, sluh, poslušanje, estetsko izkustvo, radijska igra, domišljija.
Leopold Blaustein
[| 1 (1938), 105 (1939)]1 Introduction
All works of art that are created by humans—ancient or modern—: paintings, musical works or works of literature, theater shows, films, are considered to be objects of [scholarly]2 interest and observation for the psychologist and aesthetician—an interest that never ceases. Until today, there remain many problems that are insufficiently explored: the structure of artworks, the manner, by which the spectator, reader, or listener reacts, are but a few examples. There is an affinity between the radio play and the aforementioned works of art, of which it is considered to be the youngest. All the more so that it belongs to the domain of problems that have hitherto been ignored by us.
The present study aims to examine a number of these problems. The novelty of the topic under examination is due to the fact that, until today, this field has hardly been explored. Consequently, this study can only shed some light on the problem in question, leaving it in need of further clarification.
In particular, the following psychological problem will be the main point that will interest us the most: how do we perceive the radio play?3 [| 106 (1939)] 399
1	[This translation is based on two versions of the text: Blaustein, Leopold, 1938. O percepcji stuchowiska radiowego. Warsaw: Polskie Radio Biuro Studiow; and: Blaustein, Leopold. 1939. "Étude sur la perception des pièces radiophoniques." Kwartalnik Psychologiczny 11: 105-161. The main title follows 1938; in 1939 the title reads: A Study on the Perception of Radio Plays. The original pagination is indicated directly in the text, using square brackets, with a note about the version of the text, i.e.: (1938) or (1939).]
2	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
3	I call the ensemble of [lived] experiences, operated by the reception and conception of the radio play, "perception" of the radio play and not "observation," which is aimed at entertainment or aesthetic experiences and does not seek to scrutinize the radio play. I do not class the following as perceptions of the radio play: emotional or intellectual reactions, aesthetic emotions, emotions that have nothing to do with aesthetics (e.g., religious or patriotic emotions), [| 106 (1939)] judgments that assess the radio play, the
This translation is a result of the project supported by the National Science Center, Poland (SONATA BIS, project no. 2021/42/E/HS1/00108): The Philosophy of Leopold Blaustein in Context: Brentano, Gestalt Psychology, Lvov-Warsaw School and Early Phenomenology.
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Nevertheless, in the course of considering this problem, it is impossible not to go above and beyond the framework of the psychological problem. Our deductions will be based on two fields of inquiry: psychology and aesthetics.
At the beginning of our considerations, we are going to observe the acoustic creation of the radio play: the noises and sounds. We are going to determine in what way they are presented to the listener, and what role they play in the listener's constitution of the fictional world [| 2 (1938)] of characters and [events].4 Here, a question arises: what is the listener's imagination?5 How did the term "theater of imagination" earn the right to be employed in Poland? Following these considerations, the ensuing topic will be the expression of psychic states and [lived experiences],6 as they are attributed to the characters of the radio play, and their perception by the listener. Since the radio play is a dynamic work of art and not a static one, it can be followed through the evolution of a series of successive phases, and, as this evolution makes headway, the listener embraces the whole through the perception of the integrated parts. The next task of our considerations will be to acquaint ourselves with the 400 perception of the radio play in its dynamic process. Not every perception of an artwork or of some other aesthetic object is its aesthetic perception. We are going to reflect upon what characterizes the perception of the radio play as an aesthetic object. [Finally, in the appendix we will consider (lived) experiences7 related to the radio play from the point of view of social psychology.
Over the course of our discussion, it will become apparent that the outlined task needs to be somewhat limited. Some radio plays, e.g. musical ones, require separate considerations.]8 [| 3 (1938), 107 (1939)]
reflexes imposed on the listener, and the desires that are awakened within him.
4	[In 1939: "facts."]
5	[In 1939, added: "What is the role of this imagination?"]
6	[In 1939: "phenomena."]
7	[In 1939: "experiences."]
8	[In 1938, this fragment is omitted.] The present work was written thanks to the kind assistance of Bureau des Studios de la Radio Pol (Polish Radio's Studios Office). I cordially thank K[rzysztof] Eydziatowicz and M[aria] Zebrowska. I am indebted to them, having benefitted from their numerous observations. The present study appeared first in Polish (1938) as a publication of Bureau des Studios (Studios Office).
Leopold Blaustein
§ 1. The acoustic material of the radio play and the manner of its apprehension
Sensations, as experienced by the hearer with the aid of the radio device, are exclusively the observation of noises and sounds that constitute the given [material]9 of the radio play. As it is known, according to the opinion of some people, noises and sounds should not only be the point of departure, but also the goal of the radio production. According to these people, without resorting to dialogue and action, the "acoustic kitchen" may suffice for the creation of [aesthetically valuable]10 radio plays. According to others, sounds and noises are only entitled to a secondary role as an "acoustic backstage" for dialogue and action. The first group of people [| 108 (1939)] proclaim that speech introduces a foreign element into the radio play, that of the theaters. Others affirm that language has finally found its true sanctuary, where it can reign without being rivaled by visible objects. Above all, this whole controversy will perhaps shed
The French version—translated by L. M. [?]—differs [| 107 (1939)] from the Polish in that it has been abridged, and the chapters treating the reception of radio plays from the standpoint of social psychology and summarizing the practical conclusions have been omitted. [See the "Appendix" and "Practical Conclusions" translated by Filip Borek from Polish.] The following publications dealing with radio literature have been of tremendous help to me (although the perception of radio plays is treated only briefly therein): Les Bulletins du Bureau des Studios (the Studios Office's Bulletins); the publication of the Radio's Library, entitled Theater of Imagination [Teatr wyobrazni], W[itold] Hulewicz's study (1935), as well as the voices of numerous discussions. The work of R[ichard] Kolb: Das Horoskop des Hörspiels (1932); the work of Kurt Paqué: Hörspiel und Schauspiel (1936). I have also benefited from R[oman] Ingarden's 1937 book, O poznawaniu dzieta literackiego [On the Cognition of the Literary Work of Art]. However, I have mostly relied on my own studies, presented, inter alia, in my 1930 dissertation, Przedstawienia imaginatywne. Studium z pogranicza psychologii i estetyki [Imaginative Presentations. A Study on the Border of Psychology and Aesthetics], as well as my conference paper entitled "O roli percepcji w doznaniu estetycznym [On the Role of Perception in Aesthetic Experience]"; the paper was presented during the 3rd Polish Philosophical Congress (Blaustein 1936), and it was published in Przeglqd Filozoficzny [The Philosophical Review] (Blaustein 1937b [2011]). I shall treat the ensemble of problems concerning aesthetic perception in my work, Die ästhetische Perzeption, which will appear in Volume III of Studia Philosophica. [The last sentence is absent in 1938.]
9	[In 1939: "creation."]
10	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
401
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some light on a distinction that should be drawn with regard to the matter at hand. We will express our opinion on this matter at the end of this study.
The noises and sounds that are to be introduced into the radio montage are certainly not [pure]11 sensory data, which would not be conceived as the voices of living beings or inanimate objects. However, the authors of such radio plays do not want to compete with the composers of musical works. They wish to create something that would not even resemble the music of the program; something, which illustrates storms, the din of machines, the voices of animals, etc., making use of appropriate rhythms, sonorous colors, and harmony. Radio montage does not illustrate these objects with the help of music, the sounds of which would resemble them, which would suggest the association of the corresponding ideas; rather, it introduces directly "in person" [the rippling of the river],12 the tumult of combat, the din of machines and engines, the sounds of factory and ship sirens, church bells, telephone signals, [the sound of glasses,]13 the din of crowds, the cadenced step of a marching column, etc.—So, these sounds and noises will be perceived by the hearer as if they were emitted 402 by the movement of these objects, etc.—Likewise, their montage [| 4 (1938)] could [not]14 be compared to a multi-colored mosaic or to some painting that lacks elements of meaning.
But the montage of such ["objective"]15 noises and sounds can be of two kinds: combined by the sounds and noises of different objects, of a chaotic composition, yet pleasant to the ear; or it can imitate in a synthetic manner the ["acousion"]16 of an evening at [| 109 (1939)] the countryside, the nightlife in the streets of a big city, of the movement of a [port],17 of work in industrial workshops, of a miliary parade, etc. In the second case, a certain "coordinated" world of objects is constituted for the listener.
11	[In 1939, this emphasis is omitted.]
12	[In 1939: "the rustling of the waves."]
13	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
14	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
15	[In 1939: "—supposedly emitted by objects—."]
16	[In 1939: "sonorous vision."]
17	[In 1939: "fort."]
Leopold Blaustein
A new [moment]18 introduces speech into the radio play. It is not that speech incorporates man into this world of objects. [After all,]19 other sounds and noises could reveal the presence of man, e.g., the sound of steps, the cracking of a whip, the inarticulate cries of laborers at work, whistling, laughter, etc. But speech needs to be understood with the help of ideas. Therefore, the perception of such a radio play can no longer rely solely on auditive observations. When speech is heard more frequently, it renders the radio world "homocentric," since it surrounds man—or a greater number of people—with all the other objects that we hear. Articulated speech does not only require that its sound be perceived, but also requires that its meaning be grasped. In addition, speech excludes[, due to the limited attention span of the listener,]20 the simultaneity of other noises or other sounds. Thus, speech acts in an invasive manner, pushing them [other noises or other sounds] into the background. [Melody or music can join in as a new factor.]21 If it is dominant, it brings forth a new type of radio play, a type that differs from the one discussed above.
Leaving the explanation of the term "imaginative" to further deductions, we distinguish—on the basis of the considerations above—four kinds of radio 403
play:
1.	montage radio plays, non-imaginative,
2.	montage radio plays, imaginative,
3.	imaginative and "homocentric" radio plays, which can also be simply called: "dramatic radio plays," and
4.	musical radio plays. [| 5 (1938), 110 (1939)]
In all these plays, the sounds and noises constitute the given material in a perceptive manner. However, during the perception of imaginative radio plays, the constitution of fictional worlds takes place on the basis of these auditive impressions or [observations].22 In the following, we will turn our attention to the said constitution.
18	[In 1939: "element."]
19	[In 1939: "However."]
20	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
21	[In 1939: "Melody or music can join the voice as a new factor."]
22	[In 1939: "experiences."]
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§ 2. The constitution of the radio play's imaginative world
Richard Kolb compares the radio to a naval captain's megaphone. According to him, it is only a technical means, thanks to which noises, sounds, and voices reach us from a greater distance, beyond the range of our hearing. This opinion is correct, but only inasmuch as it appertains to radio reports, e.g., of solemnities, matches, and other sporting events.
When it comes to the reception of radio plays, the case is different. When we listen to events taking place simultaneously with the reception, we perceive the noise of an approaching train, the cheers of a gathering at the station, the sounds of an orchestra, etc. On the basis of our [auditive perceptual images],23 we further believe that a train is approaching, that a crowd is greeting the arriving dignitary. It is true that we cannot see these events with our own eyes, but we situate them in the real, ambient world, a world with time and space. We do not doubt that these events took place simultaneously with our movements, executed, e.g., for the sake of perfectioning the reception, and that 404 they took place in a location, which is a definite number of kilometers away from where we are.
The matter is altogether different during the reception of radio plays. This difference does not concern the authenticity of noises and sounds. It is not an essential thing if we believe, e.g., that the voices of birds that we have just come to hear [| 111 (1939)] are emitted by real birds or skillfully imitated. This is the case, because, even if we believe in the authenticity of noises and sounds, we do not believe in the existence of the world where they resound. While hearing [the telephone's ringing, we do not assume that someone is calling us in the real world];24 the noise of a departing train does not convince us that a train has departed in reality; while listening to a conversation, we do not have the impression of being indiscrete. We conceive of the real objects—which we treat as the source of sounds and [| 6 (1938)] noises, people, telephones, etc.— as objects that reproduce, imitate someone or something else. In this way, not
23	[In 1939: "auditive experiences."]
24	[In 1939: "the sound of an electric bell, we do not suppose that someone is ringing the bell in our real world."]
Leopold Blaustein
only people, but also inert objects become actors. Thus, for the listener new worlds are constituted, foreign to the real world surrounding us, and with which no analogy obtains, either in terms of space or time. The same is true when we look at paintings, sculptures, films, or theater [performances].25 The difference lies solely in the fact that in these cases, imaginative perception is based on visual, or auditive and visual, observations, whereas in the situation that interests us it is solely based on auditive [perceptual images].26
Nonetheless, we cannot be content with the vague assertion that, due to a specific disposition, the listener perceives noises and sounds, as if they were coming his way from a specific and concentrated imaginative world; that he links them to fictional objects and not to real objects. The constitution of the imaginative world seems to be less mysterious when it comes to the viewer [of paintings].27 He attends a theatrical or cinematic representation, or he sees paintings; the theater, the cinema, and the painter all operate with two-dimensional or three-dimensional objects, [| 112 (1939)] can imitate nature, have perspective at their service, etc. Another thing appertaining to the radio listener is that he perceives and observes a purely [acoustic]28 material. Thus, 405 we must pay attention to this. We already know that by perceiving sounds and noises, we objectify them. We, therefore, hear them as the voice of a man, the ringtone of a telephone, etc. In our conception, the man and the telephone are objects that are always found in space, due to which their intentional conception leads us automatically to the conception of the space where these objects are found. [| 7 (1938)] A series of circumstances joins this, which contributes to the imaginative space of the radio play being constituted in
25	Compare the ideas expressed in the present work with the summary of the [Paris] conference [see Blaustein 1937a].
[In 1938, Blaustein writes: "For readers who are not familiar with my 1930 or my 1935/36 works, the above statements and numerous others appearing below may not be sufficiently clear. Therefore, I will allow myself to quote in the appendix at the end of the work some fragments of the aforementioned publications, which will probably eliminate these difficulties. See the Appendix' on p. 71."] [See the "Appendix" below.] [Fragment translated by Alicja Jakha from Polish.]
26	[In 1939: "auditive experiences."]
27	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
28	[In 1939: "auditive."]
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the listener's consciousness. The most important of these circumstances are: the distance of the microphone and the movement of people and objects that emit the noises and sounds, on the basis of which the listener experiences the impression of these objects' proximity or distance; he believes that they are getting closer or farther. While looking at a painting or a photograph, we unconsciously situate ourselves within the imaginative space precisely as occupying the position—which is invisible on the painting or the photo— where, were the photo or the painting to be "enlarged," [the painter would stand or]29 the camera would be placed. Similarly, during the perception of the radio play, we transport [ourselves]30 to where the microphone would be placed. Thus, we measure the distance from a certain place within the fictional space, and not from a place in the real space where our body resides, nor from the place where the microphone (studio) is actually found. In this way, the imaginative space obtains its center and depth, which in a radio play is—on all sides—more unlimited than a painting or a film. Due to such a center, it is also possible, in principle, to grasp the direction, from which the voice comes. But 406 this is a rather rare case. That said, even in everyday life, we often make errors in identifying the direction, from which an invisible object's sound reaches us. [| 113 (1939)] Were a dog to perceive the radio play, its imaginary space would be better fixed with regard to its directions; and a cat would be able to grasp with better precision the distance of a voice's source. Therefore, the right side and the left side are in principle lacking in the space of the radio play, as long as we do not visually imagine the imaginative world. The voice itself—or any other sound—also reveals to us if we are in a closed space, e.g., in a room where our voice reverberates against its walls, or in an open space, e.g., in the mountains.
The fictional space that the listener constructs does not remain in an indeterminate state. The various noises and sounds already fill it with concrete matter. The ticking of the clock can be heard; the knock on the door; the closing of the window. These noises inform the listener [| 8 (1938)] that "he is" in a lodging; other sounds and noises inform him that he is in a café crowded with
29	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
30	[In 1939: "ourselves mentally."]
Leopold Blaustein
fellow customers or at the opera before the curtain is raised. The text of the dialogue may contain other indications, so that the listener handles—as one might say—a plan of a [schematic, situational plan].31 The middle of the spatial world grouped around the center possesses yet other conjectural parts. The departing train does not fall down a precipice; it advances and follows a certain path; the hurricane rages somewhere just outside the little house, reached only by the rustling of trees bent by the wind, rain, and hail beating on the roof.
When the place of the action is changed, a new spatial action place is constituted in the same manner as the first, but its proximity to, or distance from, the first can already be conceived. The listener knows that the two places of action are part of the same imaginative space. A similar thing occurs in a specially interesting case, when the listener grasps two places of action, simultaneously, e.g., during a telephone conversation between two people. Regarding what we have just stated, it is [| 114 (1939)] noteworthy that the frequent change of the action place must have certain limits. The radio play lasts only for 30 minutes; constituting a new place of spatial action requires a certain amount of time, albeit very little. By contrast, it takes much less 407 time to constitute the previous place of action when the action returns there. Furthermore, as [Kurt] Paque judiciously remarks, when perceiving the radio play, it is less a matter of whether the conception of the environment is exact. One could obtain it mainly with the aid of [descriptions],32 which would go contrary to the radio play's nature. The "atmosphere" that governs in this environment is of more importance. We consider a clock's ticking as revealing the silence and solitude of a certain house; the noise of intense manual labor; a cafe's laughter and brouhaha—the atmosphere of joy prevailing [amongst guests].33
It is with ease that one constitutes the duration of time within the imaginative radio play. We hear all sounds and all noises in a certain temporal succession, [| 9 (1938)] sometimes several of them simultaneously. By this means, successive events' duration of time, which makes up the radio play's
31	[In 1939: "general schematic."]
32	[in 1939: "definition."]
33	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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action, is constituted in a natural way. If it is a montage radio play, then the measurement of time within the imaginative world can be [faster]34 than the spectator's ambient world. In a "homocentric" radio play, where speech and dialogue play a dominant role, this disproportion disappears, just like in the sound film compared to the silent film. However, [speaking too fast makes understanding more difficult].35 Therefore, the dynamism of action cannot be derived from the [speed]36 of dialogue, but from its substance, from the rapidity of psychic metamorphoses [happening in connection to the developing conflict expressed by the dialogue].37 The parallelism of time's flow in the real world and the imaginative world of the radio play disappears when the radio play is composed of scenes, between which long intervals occur; scenes symbolically separated [| 115 (1939)] by a gong stroke. The listener grasps these intervals as belonging to the time, through which the action passes.
Some people demand unity of time within radio plays. They are mistaken. The listener has no difficulty conceiving a more or less long interval. This does not require any special mental speculation on his part. It seems that here— 408 from a psychological point of view—one can grant the authors of radio plays a much bigger liberty than the one appertaining to the change of place, especially if the place of action requires a more exact definition. Rather, the dynamism of the action imposes here certain limitations, since an action that is [taking too much time]38 can lose its dramatic character and become epic. But, from the perspective of the listener's perceptive faculties, nothing prevents that, within 30 minutes of listening, weeks, months, and even years of the imaginative time of the radio play elapse, provided that the [temporal movement]39 is marked by intervals.
According to [Georg] Simmel, hearing grasps only the present, [| 10 (1938)] whereas the eye grasps the past as well. In effect, humans' facial expression and
34	[In 1939: "vivid."]
35	[In 1939: "too much volubility renders the response almost incomprehensible."]
36	[In 1939: "vivacity."]
37	[In 1939: "illustrating the conflict that is taking place, a conflict expressed by the dialogue."]
38	[In 1939: "too verbose."]
39	[In 1939: "duration."]
Leopold Blaustein
the state of surrounding objects reveal to the eye traces of past events, while auditive data expire and disappear, without leaving any traces. After the end of a fight, its visually perceptible traces can be seen, whereas the noise of its tumult lasts no longer than the fight itself. But this "presentism"—should it be permissible to employ the neologism coined by W[alter] Auerbach from the Latin "praesens" (the present indicative)—this "presentism" characterizes the radio play. Obviously, the past, which is already known, that with which evolution acquaints us, as well as the expected future events, all envelop the perceived present. (This will be revisited in § 5.)
Despite this, the aforementioned "presentism" is even more characteristic of the radio play than it is [| 116 (1939)] of the theatrical drama. It is not only derived from the specific structure of [all]40 dramas, but also from the purely auditive perception of the radio play. These circumstances are the reason why the "memorative and perceptive" attitude41—thus termed by R[oman] Ingarden, often in application to a film or a novel—is not seemingly applicable to the reception of a radio play. Technically, it is possible to perceive events emitted in an earlier period of time, after having already perceived the emission of events 409 pertaining to later periods—psychologically speaking, such a reception is "indigestible." [Another thing is,]42 the listener can be accustomed to a number of things.
With regard to the problem of [time in the radio play],43 it is still necessary to inquire whether the broadcast of a radio play and its reception must be
40	[In 1939: "grand."]
41	"In this attitude, the events that are basically spoken of in the past form are presented to the reader as if in the present. The reader, led by the text, in a way, 'travels' into the past and, with the time distance reduced to the possible minimum, becomes a witness to the events presented. A special attitude is created within the reader—if I may say so—of memory and perception: the time distance is reduced to such an extent that the reader's transference into the past allows him to grasp the events presented in the work—about which he is currently reading—as if from the point of view of the same time phase, in which they take place. Reading the work, we 'flow'—to put it figuratively—with the passage of time presented in the work." (Ingarden 1937, 88.) [See also Ingarden 1973, 125-126.] [In 1939, this footnote is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
42	[In 1939: "It is true that."]
43	[In 1939: "imaginative time."]
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simultaneous. [| 11 (1938)] This appears to be essential when it comes to the [perception]44 of radio reportages, for non-simultaneous reception denies the listener the impression of participation, of "bearing witness" to the events heard. By contrast, it is rather insignificant whether the broadcast and the reception of imaginative radio plays are simultaneous, since the listener feels in any case that the time of the imaginative world and the time, in which the movements of his own body are executed or where his own thoughts evolve, are not simultaneous.45 The simultaneity of the broadcast and the reception of a radio play [may be, however, desired for other reasons, namely because of the social contact between the listener and the actor].46 Nevertheless, only when the reception is simultaneous can the listener consciously observe [| 117 (1939)] in a direct way the actor's work, effort, and success, when they are occurring.
In the previous section, we have mentioned that man can play a role not only in a homocentric radio play, but also in a montage imaginative radio play, albeit a different role. The listener deduces from the substance of words 410 or the situation, in which certain sounds and noises are produced, who pronounces these words or causes these noises; e.g., a waiter, a newspaper carrier, a conductor, a marching military commander, a cart driver, or an anonymous man from the crowd. This is how the imaginative world of the radio play is populated, but with poorly-individualized characters, and whom the listener does not have to cognize or discern. These characters are, as one might put it, elements of a certain environment. Their role is the same as that of rustling trees, singing birds, clinking glasses, [rattling carts],47 etc.
44	[In 1939: "reception."]
45	Obviously, if the listener's imagination is prepared and disposed to perceive reproduced objects, the simultaneity of the broadcast and the reception ceases to be insignificant. [In 1938: "This is how I explain the interesting fact that Dr. Zebrowska brought to my attention."]. Dr. M. [?] Zebrowska drew my attention to the following fact: some listeners of a novel, broadcast via the Polish Radio, have demanded that the season and date [in 1938: "day of the week"], cited in this novel, be in accord with the real date. This interesting fact explains to me the above-mentioned problem.
46	[In 1939: "may still be desired with respect to the social contact of the listener and the actor."]
47	[In 1939: "cars whose rolling can be heard."]
Leopold Blaustein
On the other hand, in a homocentric radio play, beside the aforementioned characters, some characters stand out in the foreground; the environment only serves as a background to their fates. We will also discuss the means, by which the [internal]48 world of these characters, [| 12 (1938)] their states, and their psychic [lived experiences]49 are constituted for the listener. Now, what interests us is the question, how these characters are constituted as such; how it is that the imaginative world is populated by them, as if they were certain individualities. Obviously, it is carried out in such a way that the voices of these characters, as well as the sounds and noises that we relate to them, occur more frequently and more distinctly than the sounds and noises from the "background." We are soon informed by the dialogue who each and every interlocutor is. The difficulty is that one then has to recognize each character by his voice and possibly by the content of the response; recognize them instantly [| 118 (1939)] as soon as they start speaking again. This is not an easy matter. In a response to the survey conducted by the Polish Radio concerning the means of facilitating the listeners' understanding of radio plays, we encounter curious postulates. For example, a listener writes: "instead 411 of the radio announcer, each person who plays a role must introduce himself, say his role, [surname,]50 pronounce a few words, so that the listener may [familiarize himself with]51 the voices of the actors. If actors whose voices do not resemble each other cannot be selected, the names of the roles should be repeated more often in the text." In the survey conducted by the English BBC, the radio's listeners propose that the actors be announced before and after the broadcast of the play [in the order of their appearance].52 The listeners further demand that the names be repeated more often in the course of the action. These statements demonstrate how difficult it is to orient oneself amongst characters. This difficulty is characteristic of the perception of radio plays. In the theater and the cinema, the exterior and the costume of the action's heroes do away with such difficulties. In a novel, the author repeats,
48	[In 1939: "psychic."]
49	[In 1939: "experiences."]
50	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
51	[In 1939: "discern."]
52	[In 1939: "as they appear in front of the microphone."]
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without scruples, the name of his heroes a thousand times. We cannot do this in a radio play, for fear that the dialogue will become unnatural. Similarly, it is impossible to realize the aforementioned desiderata of the Polish Radio's listener; the aesthetic values of the radio play would be lost. In practice, these reported perceptive difficulties of radio listeners resulted in a postulate of a very limited number of people. This postulate is correct, but not without restriction. As I have already pointed out, the difficulty does not lie in [| 13 (1938)] orienting oneself with respect to who is talking at a given moment, but rather in recognizing and identifying in the radio announcer someone whom we have already met. Indeed, we do not need to recognize all the characters in a radio play. [| 119 (1939)] It is not necessary to distinguish the episodic roles, belonging rather to the background, which serve to characterize the action's heroes; the respective capacity of the listener toward them is considerable. The desideratum to limit the number of people must be applied only to the foreground characters, if their voices do not resemble those of the secondary characters, and if they have an analogous role; i.e., 412 if the dialogue or the situation reveals to us at the moment who they are. By counting on such directives, we will not go too far in depopulating the world of imaginative radio plays, hinder the creative liberty of their authors, and overwhelm the listener. In contrast, it is difficult to determine precisely, from the point of view of the listener's perceptive "capacity," the maximum number of the foreground characters. Nonetheless, the frequent reception of radio plays infallibly sharpens the ear and perfects the faculty of recognizing voices. Since the circumstance (as we will see motivated psychologically) that the radio play is of a relatively short duration is added to this psychological viewpoint, the desiderata to introduce a small number of primary characters appear to be entirely justified.
We have just discussed above the problem of how the imaginative world of the radio play is constituted, a world having its own time, whose space is filled with inanimate objects and inhabited by men (and possibly by animals). But we have not taken into consideration the role that can be played by the radio announcer, and which he often plays. We have not done so, because the announcer is disapproved of in this role; the majority of theoreticians of radio plays also disapprove of him in this function. Let us add to this discussion some
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observations based on our previous considerations. In one of the responses to the Polish Radio's survey, we read that the [lengthy]53 announcements and commentaries made by the [| 120 (1939)] announcer ruin the effect of the radio play. [| 14 (1938)] In principle, this opinion is correct. But the announcements made before the beginning of the radio play [and the commentaries]54 made during it must be treated differently here, e.g., those made during the interval between scenes. The first case could still be tolerated, though with considerable restrictions; the other must be absolutely rejected. After all, the radio announcer is not a man of this imaginative world; his appearance, or rather the sound of his voice—when the listener was already disposed [to]55 the imaginative world—his voice, I claim, destroys this disposition and requires that the perceptive attitude of the listener be changed twice: the listener must [transport]56 himself from the imaginative world into the real, i.e., into the one that reproduces it—and vice versa. The description of heroes, events, or the environment presents an illusory profit, all the more so, since the constitution of the imaginative world via description does not conform to the fundamental character of the perception of the radio play. On the other hand, 413 the announcement of the announcer preceding the beginning of the radio play, before the listener is ready to depart the real world and pass over to that of the imagination, does not have this disadvantageous result. In spite of this, one should rather avoid the announcement, since one can do without it. It is in truth the creator of the radio play who has sinned by clumsiness, having falsely imagined that the action's heroes, as well as its environment, must be defined with the same precision as in the theater.57 We know that a literary work, especially its objective sphere, possesses—to use Ingarden's term—many ["indeterminate" spots]58.59 [| 121 (1939)] They [indeterminate spots] do not
53	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
54	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
55	[In 1939: "to transport himself into."]
56	[In 1939: added.]
57	When the author of the radio play does not take into account this circumstance— e.g., out ofpiety for the poet [in 1939: "author"] ofthe radio masterpiece—, the listeners are forced to demand the inclusion of "narrators," as in the BBC survey.
58	[In 1939: "indefinite passages."]
59	These are spots, which, although not defined by the author, are "definable," and
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disappear entirely, even if this work is concretized as a drama for the stage; which does not cause any harm to the aesthetic values of the drama performed in the theater, nor to the radio play—richer in "indeterminate spots." After all, [| 15 (1938)] a schematic plan where the action is situated is sufficient for the perception of the radio play; I will attempt to prove that it is superfluous to [imagine]60 precisely the image of this phantastic place of action. Similarly, the exterior of the characters is rather indifferent to us, the psychic life of heroes of a homocentric radio play being put in the forefront. We will speak about this again. Any comment pertaining to the objects that we cannot "hear," which cannot emit a voice, introduces an alien element of a visual nature. Finally, the comments bring about the "reproduction" of the fictional world, based on the description and the opinion that one has of it. This means of constituting the fictional world is completely foreign to the perception of the radio play, a perception that is—as one might say—perceptive and is principally composed of imaginative [images],61 and not of [concepts].62 And even when the listener's [lived]63 experiences are mixed with concrete presentations, they serve above 414 all to make the sentences of the dialogue comprehensible, i.e., directly the speech, and not the descriptions. This constitutes an essential difference, if the dialogue is really dramatic, and not the improper form of a merely epic description. Thus, different considerations of a psychological and aesthetic nature are opposed to what the radio announcer contributes to the constitution of the imaginative world of the radio play. [| 122 (1939)]
Although this constitution is carried out in an organic, involuntary manner, and which the listener does not realize, it is not easy. It takes a certain effort and above all the concentration of the listener who is not accustomed to grasping
their precise definition can be accomplished by the "recipient" (Ingarden 1937, 7) [see also Ingarden 1973, 13].
60	[In 1939: "represent."]
61	[In 1939: "representations."] In the work already cited, Imaginative Presentations (Blaustein 1930), I have attempted to motivate the necessity of admitting the existence of imaginative representations, where imaginative objects seen "on" some painting, screen, stage, etc., are placed; they must be given a place next to perceptions or next to those that our imagination or our memory suggests to us.
62	[In 1939: "concrete [sic!] representations."]
63	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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environments, characters, and events based uniquely on acoustic data. The statements of the listeners prove this. We shall discuss this in our following deductions.
In order to conclude these considerations on the constitution of the imaginative world of the radio play, we must ask the question whether this constitution must be [| 16 (1938)] accomplished during the reception of all radio plays (obviously besides those of the first type that we mentioned). The answer to this question must be affirmative. When we consider the world that is revealed with the help of the microphone and the receiving device as real; when we conceive of it as a component of the ambient world, a certain number of kilometers away from us, simultaneous with our movements, then we are dealing with the receptive attitude toward the reportage, not toward the radio play. A reportage of solemnities, bicycle races, or tourism is not a radio play and is not a creation of radio theater. Its principal purpose is to give information, to provoke various emotions that are not in the realm of aesthetics, e.g., patriotic emotions, and at the most—incidentally—to provoke an aesthetic sensation. In such reportages, we also encounter moments of a conscious composition of 415 its purpose, especially when the elements are condensed, but the receiver does not have the sensation that the objects are reproduced by the radio play. On the contrary, he believes in the presence of these objects in a manner that is directly perceptive. Where there is a lack of "reproductive objects," where there is no representation, obviously the imaginative world cannot be constituted. When we transmit an [authentic]64 wedding of mountaineers, the wedding [| 123 (1939)] of [Ivan and Olena],65 this is a reportage; but when [Ivan, Olena],66 and other authentic mountaineers themselves [represent]67 this wedding, this is already a radio play. Therefore, it depends on the announcement of the radio announcer and the attitude of the listener. One can imagine a situation, where the listener—listening to the broadcast only from the middle—does not know at a certain point or for some time whether he is perceiving a radio play or a reportage. This is also why at the beginning of a radio play, [and not of a
64	[In 1939, this emphasis is omitted.]
65	[In 1939: "Jean and Hélène."]
66	[In 1939: "Jean, Hélène."]
67	[In 1939, this emphasis is omitted.]
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reportage,]68 the gong is heard. The sound of the gong plays a role similar to that of the curtain in theater, of the frame of a painting, of the base of a statue, and of the darkness, which surrounds the screen. This sound of the gong is like a demarcation of the limits of the imaginative world, which, as a "foreign body," has found itself in the real world.
The fact that the imaginative world is constituted during the perception of the radio play does not prevent such a receptive attitude of the listener, [| 17 (1938)] which I have called elsewhere the "disposition to perceive the reproduced objects." We encounter this disposition while listening to historical radio plays or, e.g., those of folklore. Then the listener, aware that the radio play reproduces a past or contemporary fragment of the real world, can create convictions for himself that are related to the reproduced objects, by relying on the perception of the imaginative world.
In the above-mentioned considerations, we have not studied the part that imagination plays when the imaginative world of the radio play is constituted. We will now occupy ourselves with this.
416
§ 3. "Theater of imagination" or "radio theater"69
There are very widespread designations and apparently adequate to the objects after which they are named; subjected to a critical analysis, they raise considerable doubts. [| 124 (1939)] The term "theater of imagination," already established by usage in Polish radio terminology, seems to be one of these designations. Is this term, employed to define radio plays, accurate? This merits reflection. Because designations often become programs or in the very least act as programs directing practical action in a certain direction, they should be subjected to revision from time to time.
In talking about the "theater of imagination," we are undoubtedly characterizing it from the perspective of its listener, and not from that of its creators or reproducers. [After all],70 from the first point of view, the
68	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
69	The following arguments were published in excerpts in Blaustein 1936. [In 1939, this footnote is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
70	[In 1939: "Nevertheless."]
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theater could also claim the right to employ this designation for its [stage theater].71 Perhaps, the [intention]72 of this term is to highlight the role played by imagination in the experiences of the listener, a role, which seems to be far more important than that of the theater or cinema spectator. But it is not known whether this is a psychological fact or whether it is rather a question of an aesthetic postulate. [| 18 (1938)] Is radio theater a "theater of imagination" by virtue of its perceptive structure or must it be so, if the recipient is to obtain a full aesthetic sensation? Let us examine these two possibilities.
First of all, we must establish the meaning of the term "imagination." It is frequently used in lieu of "phantasy," hence in the sense of a disposition toward [creative]73 images originating neither from perception nor from memory. In speaking of the theater of imagination, one doubtlessly wishes to emphasize the role of these images in the [lived]74 experiences of the recipient of the radio play. These [creative]75 images are marked by the parts of the radio play that are successively perceived, and which play a role analogous to that of the [creative]76 images that are born when we read a novel or a poem. The role of these images 417 consists in illustrating the objects and events described in the literary work. But this role is played during the reading [| 125 (1939)] not only via the images owed to phantasy, but also via [reproductive ones—suggested by memory].77 We can apply these deductions to the recipient of the radio play. When the action of the latter takes place amidst a café's hubbub, the listener can imagine this café with the aid of his phantasy; or else represent it to himself as a familiar café, hence with the aid of his memory. Apparently, the term "imagination" in the expression "theater of imagination" must not be construed solely in terms of phantasy [—the disposition to productive imagination]78, but—in a broader manner—as a disposition to non-perceptive images [in general, that is, both
71	[In 1939: "shows."]
72	[In 1939: "tendency."]
73	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
74	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
75	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
76	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
77	[In 1939: "those suggested by memory."]
78	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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reproductive and productive images]79.80
Therefore, the problem that interests us will be defined thusly: [whether the perception of a radio play takes place in fact and always with the essential participation of reproductive and productive images, [| 19 (1938)] respectively] whether the perception of a radio play should take place for aesthetic reasons with the live participation of these images?]81
Let us consider what the listeners themselves say about this. In response to the survey of the Polish Radio, 98 persons hold that they imagine the action well, as well as the characters taking part. There is no reason to distrust these introspective statements. But is it always so, and with all the listeners? It is true that in the survey there are no responses noting the impotence of imagining the characters and the action. But this lacuna is not proof that all the listeners illustrate the action of the radio play thanks to their phantasy. Admitting one's incapacity is not a pleasant thing, and the designation "theater of imagination," widespread in Poland and used by said survey, has created the suggestion that during the perception of the radio play imagination normally 418 takes part. It seems to the listeners that the "theater of imagination" requires the collaboration of the listener more than the other arts; thus, confessing that one is not able requires a certain effort. And yet, in the responses, there is no shortage of proof that not everyone succeeds in illustrating the action visually; e.g., numerous [| 126 (1939)] statements reveal the difficulty, with which many listeners illustrate the action. Twenty persons write that they imagine best [when they know the performing artists from stage, cinema, or at least from photographs].82 Two persons propose candidly that the actors
79	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
80	In this sense, E[stera] Markinowna has recently proposed using the word "imagination" in her 1932 article. We can read there, among other things, that "the more vivid someone's imagination is, the more vividly they recreate in their memories images experienced in the past, and the more vividly they experience images created by phantasy." [In 1939, this footnote is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
81	[In 1939: "do non-perceptive images really and always participate in the perception of the radio play? Respectively]: Should these images play a lively part in the perception of a radio play with regards to aesthetics?]
82	[In 1939: "when they see on the stage, screen, or photo the artists who created the roles."]
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be popularized: that the local theater arrange tours of the troupe; or that the actors appear on the screen; finally, that their photos be published in the Radio's periodicals: "this will create a [certain]83 illusion that the action is taking place before our eyes." This statement clearly proves, as is suggested by the term "theater of imagination," that some listeners go to great lengths to transpose radio theater—hence acoustic—into visual theater ("before our eyes"). One person, in response to the question: what will make it easier for listeners to understand radio plays?, advises: when announcing the characters, we describe [| 20 (1938)] their appearance, their age, and the period, in which they lived. Eight persons [highlight]84: to help the listeners' imagination, they should be introduced to the place of the action before the listening begins; two persons write: we would do well to "slip in discreet information about the place of the action, about the situation, [which helps a lot in imagining and experiencing the play]85.["]86 Numerous interviews conducted with listeners have confirmed the supposition that for the perception of a radio play, representations owed to phantasy, or those based on memory, are indispensable. Some say that the constitution of certain details of the imaginative world, aided by [reproductive 419 or productive images],87 is sufficient for them; the rest is vague, like a schematic sketch. Illustration with the aid of phantasy is continuous in some; in others, interrupted and fragmentary. Some people find that images, slowly transforming, become clearer and clearer as the listening develops. Numerous people claim outright that they have no visual experiences [| 127 (1939)] during the perception; it is uniquely like a schema, a plan of a situation. In analyzing positive confessions, criticism is of an absolute necessity, not only in relation to the suggestion of the term "theater of imagination," but also in relation to the ambition of listeners. A psychologically very interesting circumstance comes into play here again. In particular, it often happens that images originating from phantasy arise, but later, when one remembers the radio play after the perception. Many people remember more easily visually, even if they had
83	[In 1939: "certain optical."]
84	[In 1939: "propose."]
85	[In 1939: "which helps enormously to imagine the evolution of the play."]
86	[In 1939, Blaustein does not close the quotation.]
87	[In 1939: "non-perceptive images."]
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observed using a different sense, especially hearing. This also explains certain errors, which are quite common in the depositions of witnesses: they frequently believe they have seen things that they had only heard. However, such a double visual transposition is sometimes misinterpreted by listeners, who take it as proof that the illustration can actually be simultaneous with the reception of the radio play.
Concluding the analysis of the listeners' statements, it is very likely that for the perception of a radio play [| 21 (1938)] the auditive perceptions of such noises and sounds as the electric bell, the whispering of the wind, the words and sentences spoken by the radio play's characters, as well as the understanding of these words; to which may be added—but not absolutely—visual images, coming from these characters, from their surroundings, and from the events, which occur in the imaginative world of the radio play, are sufficient. The appearance of such images or their absence depends greatly on the kind of the listener's imagination. If he has the memory of the eyes, their appearance is more likely than if he possesses the memory and phantasy of the auditive 420 kind. Nevertheless, people who have the memory of the eyes themselves know that the visual images appear only from time to time, are fragmentary, vague, and do not create a continuous visual illustration, [| 128 (1939)] an illustration of the auditive action that we are in the process of perceiving. The listener of a radio [telephone] conversation knows that [two friends are talking on the telephone];88 that they are far from each other; he understands their conversation, although he does not [represent]89 their appearance, nor the expressions on their faces, nor the devices near which they are standing, etc. The term "theater of imagination" contains the principle that each listener possesses a psychic televisual device. If this were the case, the perception of a radio play would be exhausting for many listeners, since it would require a considerable psychic effort on their part. By contrast, according to others, "psychic television" is not a consequence of effort, but of the involuntary "optic" conception of the substance of the sentences heard, just as there are people who, while reading, believe they hear the sound of the words read; or,
88	[In 1938: "that at one device a bankrupt person is speaking, at the other his friend."]
89	[In 1938: "imagine."]
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when listening to the reading, believe they see the graphic form of the word.90 [Here is the testimony of a listener who experiences [| 22 (1938)] this sort of automatic visual illustration while perceiving a radio play:
As for me, I simply cannot believe that someone, listening seriously to a radio play, would not imagine everything that he hears. Sure, there may be gaps and pauses between one image and another, but we always have to imagine something during a radio play. After all, these ideas, the vivid depiction [zobrazowanie] of the individual words we hear— description of characters, objects, places—and the entire action, come to us completely without our will and agency. At least I never try to produce any images in particular. And I must say that these images form a continuous chain, with almost no breaks. During the radio play, I see not only every movement of the acting person, their way of speaking and gesturing, but even such details as eye color, hairstyle, details of clothing and surroundings, etc. I even remember that during one of the last radio plays entitled The Watch, I saw quite clearly that the old watchmaker was unshaven, and that he had a grey beard. I did not know why, but at that moment I found him very likable because of his beard. The next	421
day, I noticed that my father had the same unshaven, gray beard. Then I understood why the character of the old watchmaker seemed likable to me. It was quite easy to imagine the setting of the radio play, The Watch. I immediately remembered a watchmaker's shop, where I had been twice, three months ago, when I had dropped off and picked up a watch. On both occasions, I had to wait; the first time, I found another client [jakiegos goscia] in the shop and had to wait my turn; the second time, I had to wait for my watch to be adjusted. While waiting, I had the opportunity to observe my surroundings, that is, the shop and the studio [pracownia], and at the same time the master watchmaker talking to some gentleman, and the young man who was sitting near the display window, repairing a watch. Strangely enough, everything was just as I later heard it in the radio play: a long and rather narrow room [local], from which a door led to the watchmaker's apartment. On the counter were watches in display cases, intended for sale. Even
90 Sometimes, knowing the background of the action or one of the actors suffices for stimulating the "psychic televisual device" because a detail, rendered mentally visual, requires that its surrounding be completed via phantasy.
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coal carts often passed through the street next to the shop; the shop is located on Grodecka Street. So, it is no wonder that the image of that shop immediately came to mind. But the strange thing is that for quite a long time, I did not realize at all that this image was just a reminder of something I had seen. Perhaps, I did not think about it at the time. But after a while, I realized it quite clearly. Right from the moment the image of the master watchmaker came to my mind, I thought that I had seen this man before in my life. I stopped at this statement, because the rest of the story had taken hold of me. I realized with complete clarity that the old watchmaker in the radio play was identical to the watchmaker I had visited three months earlier, at the moment when the watchmaker was talking about opening the watch case. Today, I understand why back then I recognized that the image of the old watchmaker was a faithful reflection of the man I had already seen. While waiting at the watchmaker's, I saw him open a display case on the counter and take out a watch,91 showing it to the customer. However, I associated the figure of the watchmaker's assistant with a certain person who has nothing to do with watchmaking. Perhaps, this was because, while at the watchmaker's, 422	I could not see the face of his assistant at all; he was sitting, bent over
his work [| 23 (1938)], facing the store window and with his back to me. I had one longer break in my mental images in the radio play, The Watch, namely from the moment the watchmaker's assistant leaves the shop until the arrival of the old watchmaker's sister-in-law at his house. Although the assistant's later story allows us to imagine his life to some extent, these images were not as continuous and coherent as the previous ones.
Today, I am impressed by another radio play entitled, Underground, by Ernst Johansen, translated by Gustaw Morcinek. Here, too, imagining the action did not pose any major difficulties for me, mainly because I visited a coal mine on a tour, and apart from that I have read a lot of Morcinek's books, the subject of which is precisely coal mines and life there. I must admit, however, that during this radio play the images were much less vivid and detailed than during The Watch, although I also saw many details and small things. My imagination also conjured up images of objects and activities that the author does not mention, e.g., an elevator descending at breakneck speed down a shaft, a factory siren
91 [In 1938, Blaustein underlines this fragment; I italicize it.]
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from which a sharp cone of compressed steam emerges, indicating that the siren is whistling at a given moment, a worker pumping air into a pipe with the help of some large pump, similar in shape to a bicycle pump (!); more or less plausible images.
I have quoted this testimony at great length, because it comes from the strongest visualizer I have ever met in my interviews, and it describes well the process of creating phantasy images based on memory during perception.]92 And yet, for these listeners, the "televisual device" functions best when the reproductive images are there, ready, and awaiting them [the listeners]. They cannot produce them by themselves, ["purely"],93 their attention being concentrated on perceiving the continual development of the dialogue. For yet another type of listeners, the following opinion is characteristic:
While listening to the "theater of imagination," [I experience the content without having specific images of the actors or decoration].94 These are just general images, as one might say, background images, e.g., the dialogue takes place in Paris; I see general images: the Eiffel Tower,	423
the Panthéon, the Champs-Élysées, etc.
This listener has only incoherent images, associated via the place of the action, but which are not linked with the development of the said action.
Perhaps a certain analogy—albeit very [distant]95—will clarify the role that I grant [| 129 (1939)] (by referring to the statements cited above) to imagination during the perception of a radio play. [Johannes] Volkelt writes about the "complementary phantasy" that functions when we look at paintings. [| 24 (1938)] According to Volkelt, when a painting depicts a biblical, legendary, or historical subject, we only understand it when—along with the depicted moment of the action—we also make present to ourselves, with the aid of phantasy, the phases preceding this moment, and those following it. As
92	[In 1939, the fragment on pp. 22-23 (1938) is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
93	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
94	[In 1939: "I do not concretely represent the actors or the décor."]
95	[In 1939: "weak."]
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Volkelt himself points out, this can happen without damage to the aesthetic [experience],96 not only with the aid of images due to phantasy, but also in an abbreviated and vague manner with the aid of "[presentations]97 concerning the significations." During the perception of a radio play, imagination is also such a "complementary phantasy" of the [observatory],98 auditive perception and the comprehension of words and sentences; this complementary operation may be strong and visual in some, in others "foggy," schematic, and even [signitive].99 M[elchior] Wañkowicz writes that the fashion of illustrating the texts is outdated. According to this author, the illustrator will never create what phantasy has suggested to the reader. To illustrate the text is to impoverish and narrow the reader's [lived]100 experiences. Similarly, films founded on a novel often disillusion us. Does this prove that the phantasy of a reader with average intelligence is richer than that of the illustrator or creator of these films? Not at all. Such a conclusion would be implausible. From the facts cited, it follows only that the illustrations or the films are poorer [concretizations]101 than what is announced by our schema due to phantasy. The reader has the 424 feeling that the heroine is of admirable beauty, and the palace is of fabulous sumptuousness. But his phantasy does not make him imagine the face of the heroine, nor the furnishing of the palace. When the painter or the director concretizes them, and their work does not meet the spectator's expectations, a disillusionment ensues. It is the same with a radio [| 130 (1939)] play. In the survey of the Polish Radio, some listeners claim that the theater of imagination offers them more than the real theater, since they can imagine everything as it suits them. In reality, they think rather that the people and the background are precisely such and no other, but they do not see it in distinct images, coming from the phantasies. In their imagination, the heroine's eyes and hair color are to their idealization, but it is doubtful if phantasy concretizes her face to [| 25 (1938)] the point that one can paint and admire it afterward as before.
96	[In 1939: "impression."]
97	[In 1939: "representations."]
98	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
99	[In 1939: "purely conceptual."]
100	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
101	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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Now, we are going to raise the following question: is illustration with the help of visual imagination a condition of the perception of a radio play—a perception having an aesthetic value? In a word, must one see the content of the hearing?
A controversy may arise out of this subject, as there is one pertinent to the subject of reading novels and other literary works. For instance, according to Volkelt, those passages from novels, which cannot be transposed into phantastic images, must be reduced to a minimum, as having no aesthetic value. Th[eodor] A[lexander] Meyer maintains the opposite; according to him, all the qualities of poetry consist in the fact that everything real has been destroyed in it, it has no need to be completed by phantasy. Other authors are more conciliatory. For example, [Stanislaw] Ossowski believes that the feeling of possessing the power to represent concretely the objects described suffices for the descriptions to arouse aesthetic [lived]102 experiences. In resolving this question, it must be taken into account that we most often read only once and fast; such a reading—as [Max] Dessoir remarks judiciously—does not suffice even for a partial schematic illustration. Moreover, when we read with the greatest mental tension, the [phantastic vividness]103 is almost non-existent. 425 In reading in this way, one can experience an aesthetic experience; but it must nevertheless be admitted that [| 131 (1939)] during a purely conceptual perception, the perceiver does not grasp all the aesthetic values of the object that evokes the experience; one grasps only some of them. [The sources of these values, as Ingarden has shown, are many in the perception of a literary work; to become aware of some of them, conceptual perception—in which the text is understood—is sufficient, while others require additional, derived ideas.]104 In any event, during the reading of literary works of art, aesthetic experiences based purely on conceptual perception are possible and frequent.
Similarly, during the perception of a radio play, the receiver can have aesthetic experiences, despite his imagination not being active during this perception.
102	[In 1939: this fragment is omitted.]
103	[In 1939: "mise en relief!']
104	[Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.] [In 1939: "As Ingarden has demonstrated, many values are revealed during the perception of a literary work. We will only mention the conceptual perception, due to which one understands the text; the others demand supplementary, non-perceptive images."]
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The listener of a radio drama can perceive it in the way the spectator perceives in theater events that are [| 26 (1938)] happening backstage; he only perceives the noises, hence it is a purely auditive perception. To aspire to a different state of things on the part of the creators of radio plays does not seem to me to be either right or useful. This would be the result of a lack of faith in the art of perceptibility, and the desire to supplement this perceptibility with visions that the listener would have created. The history of film has taught us that the silent film, as an "art of pure visibility," was no less valuable—from an aesthetic point of view—than the sound film. Why should it be any different with the "blind" radio play? Perhaps the listener of radio plays, at first accustomed to the visual theater of stage and cinema, tried to supplement what he had just heard with the aid of imagination. But later, the very conditions of hearing diverted him from it, without much damage to the aesthetic experiences offered by hearing. The aesthetic values of a purely auditive nature, as well as the expression of the psychic states and [lived]105 experiences of the characters of the radio play with the help of acoustic means are rich and self-sufficient. [| 426 132 (1939)] It is true that technology tends to replace the radio play—[which is] purely auditive—with television, but it does not do so for aesthetic reasons. The experiences concerning the "blind film" already prove that the auditive world is rich in aesthetic possibilities, of which the hearer becomes aware only when the sense of sight is not functioning. One can refer to the struggle of music connoisseurs against the free associations of visual images, which derive from it, and which sometimes arise during a musical hearing; they divert the hearer's attention from the real acoustic values of the music. Our deductions here are not [inconsistent]106 with those of Ingarden who in his thesis on literary works emphasizes the great importance of representing the appearance of objects in a concrete and actual manner during reading; from an aesthetic point of view, the perception of the work gains a lot from this. Already during the perception of a radio play, the auditive appearances are actualized, and yet have the same rights as the visual aspects. Moreover, the visual appearances represented with the aid of phantasy—imperfect, not satisfying expectations,
105	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
106	[In 1939: "aligned."]
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not very expressive, not very "alive," and often banal—[| 27 (1938)] are of a dubious aesthetic value.
What conclusion can we draw from these deductions, if we find them correct? In my opinion, two [conclusions]. One is of a practical nature, the other terminological. The first conclusion: [the creator]107 of a radio play can create possibilities for the listener; he can even encourage them, but he must not assume that the listener's visual imagination is really active; this is neither possible in all people nor indispensable from an aesthetic point of view. Therefore, Kolb is right in criticizing the "Horbuhne" ["acoustic scene"], the costumes of radio plays' actors, etc. The actor must play for the listener, and not for the spectator. But, in order to be natural, he must not neglect mimicry nor gestures in acting. The states that he has to express—the whole of [| 133 (1939)] their expression—must be natural, only then will the timbre of the voice have the sound of true frankness. (K[rzysztof] Eydziatowicz underlines its importance.) Already in creating it, the author of the radio play must "hear," not see the action, as Paque judiciously remarks. In a radio play, it is not a question of, as some people suppose, imposing the author's vision 427 on the listener, but of exciting the "acousion" of the imaginative world that the author has "created." The second conclusion: the designation "theater of imagination"—a designation that misleads people—must be renounced and replaced with another, e.g., "acoustic theater" or "auditive theater," which would be more motivated from a psychological and aesthetic point of view. However, the term "radio theater" seems to be the best, being neutral, neither imposing nor excluding psychic television.108 [| 28 (1938)]
107	[In 1939: "the activity of visual imagination during perception is desired; the creator."]
108	W[itold] Hulewicz rightly emphasizes that radio theater is a theater for the blind, in which the visual moment is missing. He also rightly criticizes the excess of the sense of sight and the decline of the sense of hearing of the 20th-century man. "Walking around a strange city," writes this author, "in a singing forest, in mountains full of a million voices, or by the sea, we can then tell what we have seen, but almost never what we have heard." In view of such a position, it seems inconsistent for this author to use the term "theater of imagination." After all, stimulating the listener's mental television and pulling him away from purely auditive data will not improve his sense of hearing.
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§ 4. Expression of psychic states and lived experiences
Already in the montage radio play we find the expression of psychic states and [lived]109 experiences, but it is in the homocentric radio play where the expression occupies center stage. In representing the life of a man, the radio play cannot—as the novel, the cinema, and even the theater do—show us all the wealth of facts that constitute the life of the individual; it also cannot slowly reveal to us his character by showing us the behavior of this person in various situations of his life. Thus, the radio play chooses several of the most characteristic situations, in which this person expresses himself and reveals his character and psychic states. The time available being very limited, it is impossible to show visually the hero's manner of being or even to describe it; the need for this individual to speak directly; the conciseness of his statements, imposed by the brevity of the allotted time; [| 134 (1939)] a nuance of sensitivity in the voice—also of absolute necessity—, all of this makes the radio play offer us, more often than his way of being, the psychic experiences of the 428 man; thus, we observe mainly the inner life of the heroes. The poverty of the "acoustic kitchen" makes it difficult to sketch more distinctly the background, the environment, and the other characters, whereas the literary work, the theater, and the screen not only show us the hero, but also the entirety of his entourage. The brevity of time and the scarcity of means limit the possibility of representing the ambient world of heroes and their manner of being in the homocentric radio play. But this scarcity is equilibrated by the richness of the means expressing the hero's psychic phenomena. Although these means are narrowed, offering only auditive data, and although we neither see the face nor facial expressions, nor gestures, these means—as we shall see—are up to their task.
Such means of expression in the radio play are: the human voice, the articulated speech, and the dialogue composed of these words. The meaning of the sentences (uttered by the author or the characters of a literary work) acquaints us with the psychic state and structure of the heroes. In a [| 29
[In 1939, this footnote is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
109 [In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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(1938)] visual work of art (painting, sculpture), it is the appearance that acquaints us [with the psychic state and structure of the heroes]; on the stage and on the screen, it is the appearance of the person, his way of being, and [the way and sense of his speech; in a radio play, the manner or meaning of statements are almost exclusively taken into account].110 Beside the sounds and noises that create the background of the action—street noises in a city or a village, which permit us to orient ourselves in the situation and its changes (telephone ringing, noise of a door closing)—, beside the sounds and noises that reveal the demeanor of the person (e.g., footsteps, coughing), we can also produce expressive noises and sounds, expressing certain psychic states (punching on the table surface, noise of a glass breaking in an anger fit), and especially crying, laughing, yawning, moaning, etc. [| 135 (1939)] But a more essential signification than these expressive noises and sounds appertains to the particularities of the voice and the manner of speaking. The voice may seem to us "fatigued," "apathetic," "lively," "energetic," "soft," "decisive"; it may—independently of the meaning of the uttered words, but in rapport with the situation—reveal worry, fright, dejection, excitement, 429 upheaval, anger, concern, despair, love, amazement, admiration, humility, [embarrassment],111 joy, compassion, contempt, etc. Equally expressive can be the cry, the whisper, the singing, the pathetic, learned, "warm," [exaggerated]112 speech; or one speaks in a normal voice, but in such a manner, as if the speech came with difficulty, as if the "abnormal" manner were "restrained" and stifled. The voice also reveals to us the age, the sex, and the temperament of the character [of a person]; his speech makes us appreciate the degree of his culture.113 In addition, the voice can inspire sympathy or antipathy in the listener; for instance, a "soft" or "harsh" voice, "harmonious," hoarse, and the like. [| 30 (1938)]
110	[Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.] [In 1939: "the genre and meaning of his words that offer us these pieces of information."]
111	[In 1939: "confusion."]
112	[in 1939: "affected."]
113	After we have associated a voice with a dramatis persona, it will be difficult for us to recognize it in another radio play, as another individual. Moreover, listeners do not like it when well-known artists interpret the roles. This was discussed in the BBC survey.
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Speech—a material of dialogue—also exercises expressive functions due to its "emotional characters," as Ingarden has defined them. There are, however, coarse, pathetic, sentimental, harsh, caressing words. The choice of words can reveal to us constant traits, or the character's temporary psychic states.
But in the expression of the effects produced on the heart, the senses, and the mind, the most important role is the one played by the spoken dialogue. I emphasize that it must be spoken, because read dialogue (and the listener often knows whether the actors are reading or speaking) loses its expressive function, [directs the listener's attention to the presenting objects, not the imaginative ones, makes aware the actor as a presentation of the dramatic character, and kills the feeling of directly listening to his confessions].114 [| 136 (1939)] In short, we must avoid anything that foregrounds the sound—as such—in the listener's perception; this prevents the latter from directing all his attention to the imaginative world. This is why verses [as in poetry] are not desired in the radio play. Savoring the rhythm and the melodious speech does not allow one to grasp the situation and concentrate on it. If the role 430 of dialogue is important in the radio play, all the more important is the part played by conception115 in the ensemble of perception. This [perception]116 is comprised of numerous elements; one discerns in it the perceptive images of the auditive material, the imaginative images of the fictional world and, possibly, representations originating from phantasy, or those which our memory suggests to us; in addition, we find there multiple conceptions, with the aid of which one accomplishes the understanding of the words and sentences uttered by the characters of the drama. But beyond this understanding, one can—due to separate [lived]117 experiences—penetrate the psyche of another, understand this psyche, its structure, and states of all kinds. The uttered words and sentences reveal to us not only the thoughts of characters, [but also]118
114	[Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.] [In 1939: "reveals that a dramatis persona is presented by an actor and destroys the illusion of listening to the confessions of this someone 'in person."]
115	[Emphasis mine.]
116	[In 1939: "conception."]
117	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
118	[In 1939: "but also their sensitivity, as well as."]
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their emotional states. Nonetheless, as [Witold] Hulewicz emphasizes, "it is in the dialogue that human sentiments are expressed, antagonisms are at stake, the dynamics of life overflow there." Dialogue can be replaced by monologue, inasmuch as the latter does not lack the [| 31 (1938)] dramatic element, if the individual speaking struggles with himself or with someone else, in a way that can arouse the interest of the listener (e.g., telephone conversations of a bankrupt man with friends and acquaintances, whose answers we do not hear, or "The Apology of Socrates"). Obviously, creating such a monologue requires a higher art than writing a dialogue with analogous values.
Besides such expressive factors as noises, sounds, voices, words, dialogue, and monologue, there is still one more, [| 137 (1939)] rendering possible the expression of psychic states. This factor is the music that accompanies the action. In my Contributions to the Psychology of the Cinemagoer (Blaustein 1933), I spoke more thoroughly about its role: how music interprets the [lived]119 experiences of the heroes of the screen; that there is an affinity between the music and the screen as a means to express feelings; what the difference between the music and the film as a means to express feelings is; 431 what influence music has on the psyche of the cinema viewer; what factors facilitate the association of film and music; finally, what the value of the program music as a musical illustration of the film is.120 Such particularities as the superiority of the emotional sphere over the intellectual in cinema— pointed out by Ingarden—, the subordinate role of speech in both film and music, etc., render the association of these two arts psychologically natural. It is an altogether different matter in the homocentric radio play, where dialogue plays an [important]121 role, revealing not only the struggle of feelings, but also that of thoughts; revealing them much more clearly than do the meager
119	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
120	The issue of the role of music in film was taken up by Dr. Z[ofia] Lissa who developed it in her recently published book Music and Film (1937) in much greater detail, but in a related way, since it is based on the theory of the imaginativeness of the film world. Numerous interesting statements made by this author allow their application to considerations of the role of music in the radio play, which, however, I was unable to do since the completion of this discussion. [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.] [In 1939, this footnote is omitted.]
121	[In 1939: "real."]
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432
enunciations of the film. The latter presents [emotional events and states],122 which were their consequence; while the intellectual reflections that accompany these events and feelings are [| 32 (1938)] indifferent to it [the film], these intellectual reflections are, on the other hand, important for the radio play. The film is perceived with the help of sight, and the music with the help of hearing of the spectator, but the attention of the latter is so concentrated on visually grasping the images on the screen that he hardly hears the music; nevertheless, although relegated to the background, it operates discreetly and becomes a perfect "interpreter" of the feelings that film characters must be experiencing. By contrast, during the perception of [| 138 (1939)] the radio play, both speech and music are solely intended for hearing; when simultaneous, they harm each other. In a report, [Jan Emil] Skiwski expresses himself thusly about what we have just said:
Music on the radio absorbs us much more strongly; its importance is much greater than in the theater. There, where we are condemned only to sound—where the (musical) sound struggles with the voice—, music has the upper hand. Simply because it is noisier. It flatters the ear and, perhaps more importantly, tires less our memory and attention.
[Juliusz] St[efan] [?] Petry is also opposed to the simultaneity of speech and music. The victory of music in this occurrence is not dangerous for such a radio play, where the action serves as a framework for the music.
However, when the radio play is neither an opera nor radio operetta, but a drama or comedy, the role of music must be limited; it must only be restricted to setting the appropriate mood for the listener and putting him in such a disposition that he is in agreement with the atmosphere of the action place, e.g., with that of a ballroom or a revue. Music can play this role perfectly; not only can it evoke a [presented]123 feeling, as the theater or radio play does, but also a real feeling. Music that expresses longing and nostalgia evokes a longing mood in us. The very feeling [(or its presentation)] of longing expressed via facial expressions on stage, on screen, or in a painting, or perceived during
122	[In 1939: "the events and the states of sensitivity."]
123	[In 1939: "represented."]
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listening to a radio play [only awakens our understanding].124 When an imaginative character is jealous, despised, etc., its appearance awakens in the spectator analogous feelings, only if the spectator himself was in the past or is presently in an analogous situation. On the other hand, thanks to music [| 33 (1938)] real feelings are born, e.g., joy, although the actual and real situation of the spectator or the listener barely disposes him to it. We have already talked of the spectator's/listener's body being transported into the imaginative space [| 139 (1939)]: it is the attraction of the music that transports the spectator into this imaginative world; the spectator is influenced by it, the atmosphere of the ball envelopes him, intoxicates him; listening to Strauss's lively waltzes, he would like to dance, just as if he were attending this ball that he sees on the screen in person or whose mere echo reaches him, due to the radio device.
In addition to the function of "attracting" the listener into the atmosphere of the action's place, one can also, within certain limits, illustrate the psychic states of the heroes through music, e.g., by making them play an instrument, hum a song. Nevertheless, this method should be employed moderately, firstly because of what we have just listed above, and secondly because of the short 433 duration of the radio play; this appears to be all the more necessary since the prolonged perception of music could necessitate the reconstruction of the action place, this not being presented visually and simultaneously in a continuous manner, as for example on the stage or in the cinema.
In evaluating the expressive force of acoustic speech, which expresses psychic states, we must take into account certain important circumstances. First of all, it must be considered that the voice's expressive values are more striking when the person speaking is invisible. Focusing one's attention entirely on acoustics makes hearing more sensitive and impressionable; it then captures the most imperceptible nuances. An interesting statement made by Wañkowicz bears witness to this. During a radio conference he had listened twice in a row to [Stefan] Jaracz and [Wojciech] Brydziñski who played a fragment of a radio play. Having fixed this radio play, it was repeated on the steel ribbon field by the loudspeaker. But as soon as Wañkowicz heard Jaracz again, without seeing the
124 [In 1939: "will leave us indifferent, even though we have understood them (feelings)."]
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artist's facial expression, his impression was more vivid. "His laughter so sad and so dreamy, his [| 34 (1938)] voice so tragic and so dark, interrupted by this little laugh—[armor of life]125 [| 140 (1939)]—no, it was not so striking when we listened to Jaracz in person." Thus, both psychological reasons (conditions of perception) and technical reasons (the microphone, the loudspeaker) are the reason that nowhere are the subtleties of speech better felt than during the reception of radio broadcasts. We can risk this comparison here: it is like when we reproduce on the screen the enlargement of a face, we can then better observe the subtleties of its facial expressions.
The exclusivity of auditive impressions during the reception of a radio play not only increases the [perceptive and emotional sensitivity]126 of the listener, but also his disposition to sensitive reactions, to feel the feelings expressed by the imaginative characters. Hearing crying makes a stronger impression than seeing tears. It is a known fact. There are people who kill the mute fish themselves, but they send to the butcher the animals that show their suffering by screaming. Recently, I witnessed two accidents: from the first, the child 434 came out safe and sound, but his tears and the scream of the terrified mother produced a very strong impression on the passers-by gathered there. The second accident was fatal, but, as the unfortunate child did not cry and there was no one there from his family, [to bear witness to the accident,]127 the assembled crowd showed much less emotion. A voice trembling with emotion always impresses more than a sad or happy face. A sudden cry, of which we know neither the cause nor the motives, attracts our attention and makes us flinch. Now, we feel different emotions so strongly during the perception of a radio play, because we perceive their expression with the help of hearing. [| 35 (1938)]
Let us also note a circumstance, which characterizes the perceptions of radio plays: To sympathize with the misfortunes of imaginative characters, [to commune with them,]128 [or] to be penetrated by their feelings plays a [| 141 (1939)] much more important role during this perception than during the
125	[In 1939: "a mask."]
126	[In 1939: "perceptive and emotional impressionability."]
127	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
128	[In 1939: "to commune with them through joy or through pain."]
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perception of shows in the theater, on the screen, in a novel, etc. There are two reasons for this: first, the psychic life of the heroes is placed in the forefront, thus directed toward the "interior" of the psyche; the "introverted" disposition of the radio play, which enlarges the scope of the [lived experiences],129 with which the listener must be penetrated. Second, these psychic states are communicated to the listener immediately. This immediacy lies in the fact that the psychic states are communicated to the listener at the very moment when the imaginative character experiences them—most often expressly. By contrast, on the screen it is the gesture and the involuntary facial expressions that inform us about the hero's psychic states.
This great part that the listener takes in the [lived experiences]130 of the heroes of the radio play has doubtlessly suggested to Kolb to advance an original thesis. According to him, the action of the radio play does not take place in front of the listener but within him.131 Our considerations on the constitution of the imaginative world of the radio play can easily demonstrate that Kolb's assertion is false. The actor's voice is not "entkorperf ["disembodied"], as Kolb expresses it; we perceive it as the voice of someone, the voice of an imaginative 435 character. This character and his surrounding world are neither in our spatial reality nor in our psyche, but in their [specific]132 imaginative world. It is in front of the listener transported into this world that the action takes place, and not in front of the real body of the said listener. [| 36 (1938)]
In principle, we do not project ourselves into the given character or into all the characters in the action; we do not identify with them. It is only a communion of feelings, [| 142 (1939)] more or less like those we encounter in daily life, in contact with our loved ones, who communicate their [lived
129	[In 1939: "impressions."]
130	[In 1939: "fortunes and misfortunes."]
131	After having precisely determined the state of things in the theater, Kolb (1932, 39) writes: "Anders vor dem Mikrophon und Lautsprecher; hier läuft die Handlung nicht vor dem Hörer ab, wie im Film oder Theater, sondern in ihm. Auch die Personen entstehen in ihm. Er schafft sie dem Dichter nach, in sich, mit seinen eigenen, schöpferischen Kräften." A few pages later we read: "Die entkörperte Stimme des Hörspielers wird zur Stimme des eigenen Ich." (Kolb 1932, 55.)
132	[In 1939: "own."]
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experiences]133 to us directly. Moreover, in the theater and in the cinema, the action does not take place in front of the spectator's real body. Kolb may have a correct idea—only expressed incorrectly—in asserting that empathizing with the hero's [lived]134 experiences plays a great part in the whole perception of a radio play.
The expression of [lived experiences]135 is associated with the question of how the receiver becomes aware of them. By listening to the statements of people who speak about themselves and by observing their way of being, we [perceive]136 these statements as an intentional or involuntary expression of [lived experiences].137 We sometimes perceive intentional expressions with confidence, that is, we recognize their conformity with the [lived experience];138 sometimes, we react in a skeptical manner, that is, we recognize their nonconformity with the [lived experience];139 finally, sometimes in an interpretative manner, that is, we [assume]140 the conformity of the intentional expression with the [conscious lived experience],;141 but at the same time we admit that unconscious motives are hidden therein. Being disposed 436 in a skeptical manner, we do not believe in the frankness of expression. By confronting an oral utterance (or another acoustic manifestation, e.g., an exclamation), accompanied by facial expressions and gestures, we decide that the first was not frank. The listener of a radio play is deprived of this possibility. Can the listener, therefore, evaluate the frankness or the dissimulation of the expressions relating to [lived experiences],142 when he is given only the intentional expressions, with barely mentioning the involuntary ones, with which he could confront them? [| 143 (1939)] To a certain extent, certain
133	[In 193): "impressions."]
134	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
135	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
136	[In 1939: "sense."]
137	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
138	[In 1939: "psychic phenomenon."]
139	[In1939: "lived fact."]
140	[In 1939: "admit."]
141	[In 1939: "psychic phenomenon."]
142	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
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subtle nuances of the voice (e.g. ironic, [exaggerated/dramatic]143) may reveal that the utterance is [insincere],144 but this does not concern fully intentional and knowingly masked dissimulation. As it seems, one thing decides whether the listener can recognize the frankness or insincerity of the statement. The character of the person having already been formed, its conformity or nonconformity with the utterance reveals to the listener whether the latter is frank or dissimulated, and whether it conforms or not to the image of the character given. [| 37 (1938)]
Having established this fact, one may express yet another doubt. Does not the brevity of the radio play make it impossible for the listeners to form such an image? Usually, we recognize the characteristic features of other characters by generalizing our conclusions; namely: 1) the repeated [phenomena],145 relating to the disposition, respectively] toward the inclinations of the individual; 2) the profession and the origin of the latter (which can give rise to many errors); finally, 3) the physiognomy. Judging from the physiognomy we can read there wit, stupidity, presumption, pride, docility, etc. When a young person's face is tense, wrinkled, or furrowed, we recognize that this person is embittered; 437 radiant, joyful, calm eyes, or slow movements make us recognize a balanced person. Finally, information about the individual (information of a vital necessity to know the character of the novel) contributes to the listener being able to form the image of the given character.
However, we are deprived of information about the heroes of a radio play; the radio announcer—as we already know—is not supposed to give us any. We cannot deduce our conclusions from the [physiognomy]146 that we do not see; nor from the profession, nor from the origin of the individual; the author cannot create schematic characters, without individuality, uninteresting, and not realistic enough. As we know only a few facts and phenomena, it is difficult [| 144 (1939)] for us to conclude how the characters are disposed toward them; much less than, for example, in a stage drama five times longer.
143	[In 1939: "affecte."]
144	[In 1939: "concealed."]
145	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
146	[in 1939: "face."]
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Does the listener not imagine the character of the heroes in the radio play? Does he not know them at all? If this were the case, creating a dramatic conflict on the radio, based on the diversity of human characters, would be very difficult. Fortunately, this is not the case. Two main difficulties prevent us from knowing others—and also oneself: the versatility of man as well as the lack of characteristic situations, which would help reveal the characteristic traits of this man; such situations, which would be a real test of [| 38 (1938)] character strength, etc. Isadora Duncan writes in her memoirs that only those people whom life has spared from truly strong temptations are virtuous; or those who, focused in one direction, have not had time to look for something else in life. This opinion is exaggerated, but there is a correct idea: man (and even more so his entourage) can have an erroneous opinion of himself for decades, until this real "test of character" opens his eyes. But if we are talking about the heroes of a radio play, these two difficulties do not exist. On the contrary, the radio play, constrained by the brevity of its duration, has an action composed of one or more 438 unusual and rare situations, which reveal to us better the particularities of the heroes' character than a long observation of their monotonous life would. Moreover, since the character of a radio play is not epic, its heroes are represented in a specific phase of their life, in which they remain true to themselves and hardly change, unless "in our eyes" or rather "in front of our ears" a breakthrough takes place in the hero's psyche.147 Thanks to these circumstances, it is possible to know the heroes in such a short period of time, especially since [| 145 (1939)] both the voice and the manner of speaking possess certain characterological peculiarities. The perception of radio plays teaches the listener to grasp with the ear the peculiarities of character, and to judge the man on their basis; listening alone makes us distinguish a cyclothymic, simple, natural, [unforced],148 talkative, easily confiding in others, from a schizothymic, secretive, taciturn, controlled, cold [in communication], stiff, and unnatural.
147	[In 1939: "they are withdrawn, unless the hero undergoes a psychological crisis during the listening."]
148	[In 1939: "without affection."]
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During the perception of a radio play, [lived experiences and psychic states]149 are—this time explicitly—"expressed" only by acoustic means. But this fact does not prevent the listener from knowing these [lived experiences]150 and structures of the characters who experience them. [| 39 (1938)]
§ 5. Perception of the radio play during its evolution
Unlike painting and sculpture, the novel and the stage or cinematographic spectacle are dynamic works of art; the radio play differs from the first and resembles the second. Its perception can be accomplished in a certain longer period of time, and in the phases of which the particular stages of the action are revealed. The perception of the radio play requires that attention be concentrated for a fairly long time, which is hardly easy.
In everyday life, we see and hear simultaneously. It is quite rare that we see something without hearing it, and it is even rarer that we hear something without seeing it.151 In the theater and in the cinema, we see and hear simultaneously. While watching the silent film, we hear [| 146 (1939)] the 439 musical illustration. Listening without seeing is more difficult than seeing without listening; listening—except for music—even demands a fairly great effort from us. Likewise, listening to a radio play attentively and for a long time is not an easy thing. When focusing attention on something requires effort, that attention often ends up on something else. That is why hearers who strive for attentive listening make special preparations to create the necessary conditions. Different opinions in the survey mentioned testify to this: "Before the play is broadcast, I lock myself in my room, so that no one disturbs me," or: "The family circle surrounds the loudspeaker; collected, in silence, all listen... It is forbidden to speak." Nine listeners note that the radio play is more demanding than the theater. During the radio play, one must "focus" and "grasp every word," otherwise the listener's interest wanes. On the other hand,
149	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena and states."]
150	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
151	"Unser Ohr"—Kolb (1932, 23) writes—"ist völlig ungeschult ohne den visuellen Eindruck längere Zeit nur dem Wort zu folgen. Wir sind daran gewöhnt, dass unsere Aufmerksamkeit wenigstens durch den Gesichtsausdruck oder die Geste des Sprechenden wachgehalten wird."
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[62 persons]152 say that during a radio play they can listen and observe better than [| 40 (1938)] in the theater; the visual element being excluded, neither the view of the stage nor the conversations, nor the coughing of the neighbors [in the theater], distracts the listener's attention. Is there a contradiction amongst these opinions? Apparently, there is none. Concentrating one's attention during the perception of a radio play is much more difficult than in the theater, not for external reasons, but because the psychic action—exclusively listening—is not a common usage; it must be exercised for a fairly long time. On the other hand, the result of this necessary effort to concentrate attention, so that it is static and not dynamic during the perception of a radio play, this result, I say, is better than in the theater, because the solitary man can rather ensure tranquility in his surroundings, and the lack of visual objects does not distract attention, absorbed by listening.
Darkness is often desired: "I close my eyes or turn off the light, and, focused, I take part in the whole evolution [| 147 (1939)] of the drama," writes one person in the survey mentioned. This opinion is repeated 30 times. I have also heard it 440 frequently during oral interviews. Listeners even demanded that the broadcast of the plays be carried out in the evening. Various reasons explain this desire for darkness. The conditions then can be better for creating phantasy images, if it is with their help that someone illustrates the radio play. Darkness can also serve to concentrate attention, as in the theater or the cinema. The habit acquired during these spectacles can, without doubt, contribute to this.
Attention, strained during listening unidirectionally and marked by the impossibility of proceeding at will from things seen to those heard—and vice versa, soon tires the listener. In the theater, in the cinema, and during the perception of a radio play, the attention of the receiver is directed by the creators of the show or the radio play; but in the theater or cinema the listener still has quite a lot of freedom, being able to look at the secondary characters, the background, etc. In contrast, during the perception of a radio play, the freedom of the listener disappears completely; the presentism of the radio play and the small extent of the sounds perceived by the listener [| 41 (1938)] contribute to the latter soon becoming tired. That is why a radio play cannot
152 [In 1939: "other persons."]
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last longer than about thirty minutes—according to the standard adopted in Poland. Certain peculiarities of attention, necessary for the perception of the play, impose the brevity of radio plays. It is known that attention can be trained; therefore, it is highly probable that the person who often perceives radio plays will, with time, be able to perceive much longer radio plays without difficulty. Apparently, the BBC has obtained such results. In its survey, the listeners affirm that a broadcast should not last more than an hour, with household occupations not permitting attentive listening for longer. As Shakespeare's works cannot be thus shortened, so that their broadcast can [| 148 (1939)] last an hour, the listeners propose introducing a short interval, like during symphonic concerts.
Obviously, limiting the duration of the radio play to avoid the weakening of attention or even its total distraction, caused by the fatigue of the listener, will not suffice. Several people have told me that they do not listen to this kind of broadcasts, which tire them too much; and as they are seeking relaxation, these people rather prefer music. In order to remedy this, it is above all necessary to make the action as interesting as possible, which can be achieved by a pace 441 specific to the drama; short intervals, filled by music, and the creations of the "acoustic kitchen" put in the foreground will make listening less tiring. However, listening to and understanding articulated speech require the greatest effort—short intervals facilitate repeated effort. As we know, speech and music must not be simultaneous; instead of relaxing attention, this simultaneity tires it even more. On the other hand, the acoustic backstage diverts from attentive listening to the dialogue less than music; it also detaches attention less from articulated speech than do [| 42 (1938)] the sets in the theater and other optical data of the spectacle, as [Wladyslaw] Zawistowski judiciously points out.
Focusing one's attention on the perception of purely acoustic data tires one relatively quickly; nevertheless, this concentration also has its advantages, as has been pointed out by Hulewicz. Radio requires neither mask nor costume, nor facial expressions, nor light, nor visual décor—notes this author—, it acts on the listener in a centripetal manner, concentrating his [sensitivity]153 only on the content of the speech. Let us add that it also concentrates this sensitivity
153 [In 1939: "impressionability."]
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on the psychic life, of which the speech is the expression. Thus, radio facilitates and provokes the "introverted" attitude. [| 149 (1939)]
Concentrating attention not only facilitates an accurate perception of the phase of the moment itself, but also facilitates retaining in memory the already elapsed phases of the play. When we observe something in passing or with a minimum tension of our mind, representing it ex post requires special remembering of [lived experiences].154 The listener, absorbed in the perception of the phase of the moment, in listening and understanding, simply lacks time for such [lived experiences].155 The perception carried out with such concentrated attention, as well as the short duration of the radio play, make it much easier to retain in the "live memory" the elapsed, already perceived phases, than this is the case in the theater, in the cinema, or while reading a novel. This "live memory" is—according to Ingarden—like the imprecise and peripheral [lived experience]156 of an event, of the realization of something, at certain moments of the existence of something, which is not present to us "in person." Thus, one can do without those [lived experiences].157 Therefore, 442 they rarely occur, for example, when—in order to understand something better—we compare the current utterance of the dramatic character with the previous utterance. We must also observe the difference between the way of remembering and the way of perceiving. For instance, when we see something, we most often remember it visually, using quite faithful, visual, reproductive images. Remembering all [| 43 (1938)] the phases of the play in a homogeneous way is almost impossible, especially for listeners who are not audile. Of course, we know from many experiments that we remember less things heard than things seen (e.g., we forget words more quickly than objects or pictures). Besides this, the listener's disposition is not directed toward the words themselves, but toward their meaning; he also remembers [| 150 (1939)] the elapsed phases of the radio play not only in a "summed," "abbreviated," or "condensed" manner, but also rather in the form of conceptual representations
154	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
155	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
156	[In 1939: "sensation."]
157	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena, which consist in remembering something in a distinct way."]
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than of auditive reproductive images. The summary way of remembering the past phase is connected with the possibility of representing fragments in detail and of developing the details that were previously remembered in a condensed form. This development is carried out in many listeners with the help of a double visual transposition, which has already been discussed. However, in everyday life, it is difficult for us to remember not only the meaning of longer utterances, but also to recall these utterances word for word, and to grasp the tone in which they were pronounced. Few sentences, and only the most expressive ones, remain "in our ear." For the cinema spectator, remembering the past phases of the action is quite another thing. The cinema session does not last very long, although it is two to three times longer than that of the radio play. The "live memory" also plays a major role for the cinema [viewer],158 but the development of details takes place primarily by suggesting to the memory images akin to those seen recently.
Regarding the function of memory during the perception of a radio play, it should be noted that the role of discernment is greater than that of recollection. Discerning has a real importance in the constitution of the following phases 443 of the imaginative world, and particularly of the characters who populate this world.
In the radio play, we have [—as Ingarden claims in the case of drama in general—]159 a continually renewed "now," constantly surrounded not only by the past, but also by the future, not only by accomplished events, but also by those that are [| 44 (1938)] announced. Among the constitutive elements of perception, the expectant attitude of future events is remarkable. [The greater the listener's tension, the stronger the expectations.]160 During the perception of a radio play or other dynamic works of art (novel, [theater] spectacle, film) two attitudes are [| 151 (1939)] possible: the contemplative attitude, which makes us savor the present phase, and the expectant attitude, which makes us await with a strong tension of mind what the next phase holds for us. Obviously, the second attitude is rather accentuated when the dramatic knot is already
158	[In 1939: "listener."]
159	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
160	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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formed, and its denouement approaches. The different motives discussed above, having to do with the tension of the attention of the receiver, especially by means of maintaining the tension, force the radio play to give the action a lively pace. Paque demands that the listener be interested from the beginning of the dramatic action, and that this high tension be maintained at a peak level throughout (unlike a theater performance, which only occasionally introduces culminating points). Paque also demands that the scenes be short; that there be continual changes; that there be contrasts of the opposing characters; finally, that the construction of the whole play and of each of its scenes be dynamic. [He allows for a momentary slowing down of the tempo only to enable the listener to feel this tempo, to sensitize him to the intensification of this tempo.]161 Finally, Paque calls for short intervals, which are essential for the listener, so that new [lived experiences],162 following each other quickly, can form. It must be considered that the listener can neither accelerate nor slow down the pace of perception, nor interrupt its phases, just like the spectator at the theater or the cinema. The situation of the reader differs from theirs. Thus, the listener 444 cannot "regulate" the pace of events—too fast for him—by a slow motion or interrupted perception. Therefore, undergoing the dynamics of the action, it is not easy for him to take a contemplative attitude, so he takes an expectant attitude. [| 45 (1938)] This seems even more characteristic for the auditive receiver [of the radio play] than for the cinema or theater spectator. However, some restrictions apply here: the first concerns entertaining radio plays, whose action is not dynamic; the second restriction concerns montage radio plays, which are not homocentric, [| 152 (1939)] during the listening of which the contemplative attitude is especially frequent. Finally, our assertion concerns only the first listening, because at the second and subsequent perceptions of the radio play—already known—the contemplative attitude is characteristic. The consequences of this assertion, consequences that the aesthetic perception of the radio play undergoes, will be discussed below.
161	[In 1939: "He only admits a momentary 'slow motion' pace, so that the listener can realize the speed of this pace and become impressed, when it is intensified again."]
162	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
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The question of intervals during the broadcast of a play has a certain relation to the question we have just discussed. These intervals, as we know, do not depend on the perceiver, as, for example, during the reading of a literary work. These intervals are much shorter than those in the theater; they ward off reflections, prevent the "return" to the real world, etc., but they are accentuated more strongly than in the cinema. They indicate the end of one phase of the action, the beginning of the next, and give the signal that one must prepare for the perception of a change in the place or time of the action. These intervals are extremely short; they last as long as the sound of a gong. The sound of a gong may be preceded by a short silence, but this silence, as a boundary, is not sufficient in itself, for silence does not have one single meaning. It can just as much indicate an interval in the dynamic development of the work of art (e.g., darkness or light on the screen), or a silence in the imaginative world (e.g., silence in silent scenes in the theater). The lack of longer intervals is due to the impossibility, in the case of a prolonged interval, of forcing the listener to adopt a new attitude toward an imaginative world, while retaining in the live memory the elapsed phases. These reasons are more important than the short 445 duration of the radio play and the lack of time. This is precisely what explains why radio plays do not consist of acts lasting 20 to 30 minutes, separated by a [| 153 (1939)] longer intermission. The same psychological facts impose, it seems, the unity [| 46 (1938)] of action proposed, among others, by Hulewicz. This author is opposed to plays, in which several actions intersect and happen in different places. Nevertheless, it is necessary to make the restriction that frequent listening can probably create a disposition, making possible the perception, even of such radio plays. In short, the many peculiarities of the radio play, which seem to result from its "essence," are—in fact—only the result of the perceptive capacity; in my opinion, it can undergo a modification through training, as the reception of the radio acousion of the world becomes, from early childhood, a frequent phenomenon in the life of man. Obviously, provided television does not interrupt this evolution; an evolution, educating those who see how to feel the world aurally, as if they were blind.
The aforementioned considerations dealt with the following questions: how to maintain the tension of the mind in the listener; how to remedy his fatigue; how to engrave in one's memory the events and statements "which collapse
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into the past," or rather the expectant attitude, instead of the contemplative attitude of the listener during the perception of the radio play in its dynamic development. In these considerations it was also a question of the reasons, which stand in the way of cutting the play with the help of longer intervals. We should also emphasize one more important circumstance: beside the perception of the radio play, there are also phases [of the pre-perception],163 which precede the perception, and [the phases of the post-perception],164 which follow it, and they can be joined to the whole of the [lived experiences]165 of a higher order; a whole that is connected with the perceptive attitude, taken during the broadcast of the radio play. The phase, which precedes perception, has a considerable influence on the course of the perception, because our psychic phenomena always depend [| 154 (1939)] not only on the impressions we experience, but also on our expectations, hopes, and fears that we have associated with these impressions. Moreover, the listener defines these expectations in a varied manner. This depends on the subject: whether it is completely new, unknown, about which one can only risk assumptions based 446 solely on the title or on some press advertisement; or whether it is a literary subject [| 47 (1938)] broadcast on the radio. Obviously, to [constitute]166 the imaginative world, understanding the action of the [lived experiences]167 of the heroes is easier in the second case—but the receptive sensitivity is weaker, and here is why: [the listener's aesthetic experience]168 is [undoubtedly]169 distracted by the continuous comparisons and the gaps he feels, completing the indeterminate spots with the help of knowledge, drawn from reading or from the theater—perhaps contrary to the intention of the creators of the radio play, who had not made an abridgement of another work, but had created a new work of art. When literary works are adapted to the screen, the perception of such a film is similar to that of a radio literary work. The phase [of the post-
163	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
164	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
165	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena".]
166	[In 1939: "form."]
167	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
168	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
169	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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perception]170 is important, because it creates the possibility of apprehending the synthetic whole of the play. While apprehending this whole, many details emerge and present a different aspect than they had during the perception; a complete understanding follows; one perceives the structure of all the successively perceived phases of the play, which makes it possible to experience new aesthetic emotions; to reflect on what the character of the individuals was, the idea of the play, and the outcome of the dramatic conflict. Radio does not take into account the role of the post-receptive phase in the whole of psychic phenomena by allowing the radio announcer to speak at the very moment when the action is over. So, [Franciszek] Pawliszak is right to call for a moment of silence, or a little music, at the end of the listening. [| 155 (1939)]
§ 6. Perception of the radio play as an aesthetic object
It might seem that we are dealing with the aesthetic perception of the radio play always and only when this play is a work of art. However, this condition is neither absolute nor sufficient. In order to establish that such a play has no 447 positive aesthetic values, an aesthetic perception is nevertheless also necessary; on the other hand, the fact that the object of perception possesses aesthetic values is no guarantee that the listener will notice them. On the contrary, [| 48 (1938)] "aesthetic color blindness"—if one may use Ossowski's term—, the consumption of the work of art itself, instead of its aesthetic perception,171 is a very frequent occurrence.
In the analysis of aesthetic experience, aesthetic psychology has paid little attention to aesthetic perception—a real element of [aesthetic] experience; said psychology being mainly interested in the emotions, which result from this perception. [Aesthetic experience]172 is not only an emotion arising from a passive, purely receptive perception of the object, but a [lived experience]173 actively forming its object; on this psychic phenomenon depends, which values
170	[In 1939: "after perception."]
171	Among others, this was demonstrated by the BBC survey. The majority of its listeners only seek entertainment in radio drama productions; they show no interest in the values of a radio play, in a play written especially for radio, etc.
172	[In 1939: "Aesthetic emotion."]
173	[In 1939: "psychic phenomenon."]
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will reach the consciousness of the perceiver, and which he will not notice. We will apply these general assertions to the perception of the radio play, which alone interests us here.
Is perception only a consumption of the radio play, or its aesthetic experience? This depends on the kind of perception of not only the objective values of the play, such as style, depth of the "presented" psychic life, [| 156 (1939)] dynamism of action, [harmony of the acoustic backstage with the dramatic situation or the mental state of the heroes],174 etc. To perceive the values of the play, to complete the auditive data—something that is indispensable—, and to feel through the acoustic material the imaginative world and that of [lived] psychic [experiences]175 also depend on the kind of perception. The collaboration of the receiver that is absolutely necessary during every aesthetic perception and exceptionally important during the perception of a radio play, is more the work of the receiver than the construction of the cinematographic or stage world. In non-imaginative montage plays, the aesthetic experience depends only on the hearer's sensitivity toward the values of the sphere of 448 noises and sounds. Whereas during the emission of [| 49 (1938)] imaginative [radio] plays, the aesthetic experience depends on the manner, in which the imaginative world is constituted and constructed; how the listener completes the spots of indeterminacy; how he illustrates (visually—if possible); on the listener being in intellectual community with the heroes; on understanding their psyche.
There is still a whole series of conditions; they are not indispensable, but capable of multiplying sources of aesthetic emotions. The most important of these conditions is the sensitivity of the listener toward the "structure" of the play. Thus, the listener can notice that the acoustic sphere provides in an excessively skillful way the clues for building the imaginative world, that it perfectly "sketches" the background of the action. The listener can also be delighted with the perfection, with which the expression of experiences and psychic states is accomplished, thanks to the voice, the tone, the choice of words, and the construction of sentences; he can admire how the dramatic
174	[In 1939: "harmony of the acoustic backstage of the heroes."]
175	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
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situations of the play—so few in number, in spite of the fact that the events are well condensed—perfectly represent the dynamism of certain processes of life, of certain struggles, etc. We perceive these values of the radio play as such [| 157 (1939)] (and not only the values of the radio imaginative world), when we are disposed to perceive not only the imaginative world, but also, from time to time, the reproducing object. However, too much concentration of attention on the reproducing strata of the play, for example on the stratum concerning the senses,176 leads to the decomposition of the imaginative world, and to the [disappearing]177 of aesthetic experiences, which arise from the perception of the values of this world, even such experiences, as e.g., the tragedy of certain situations, the depth of dramatic conflicts. [| 50 (1938)]
To be disposed to perceive the imaginative world is the most important condition for obtaining an aesthetic perception of a radio play. This condition, although indispensable, is still insufficient. With such a disposition one can only achieve the consumption of the radio play. This latter case occurs when the listener is disposed to perceiving only the evolution of the action; when the latter interests him as enigmatic, and the listener is only interested in learning 449 the sequel and its definitive outcome. Such a consumption is complete color blindness, blindness, or rather stupidity, since all the moments, in which we concentrate our attention during the aesthetic perception, pass unnoticed. One may not even notice the states of psychic [lived experiences],178 just like a reader with a dull mind, who, while reading a novel, skips the descriptions of the inner struggles or the reflections of the heroes, seeking only the denouement of the plot. Apparently, the radio play is particularly disposed to pure consumption, devoid of aesthetic emotion and supported by a perception full of "gaps." Consumption does not require the complete understanding of the object of perception, as aesthetic perception requires. [| 158 (1939)] The listener, therefore, follows the line of least effort; he reluctantly makes the effort
176	The homocentric radio play consists of four strata, namely: 1) acoustics, 2) meanings, constructed from the sense of the sentences uttered, 3) imaginative objects, and 4) appearances of said objects; just like a literary work, except for "imaginative" objects.
177	[In 1939: "weakening."]
178	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
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necessary to take advantage of all the clues that construct the imaginative world. He constructs only what is absolutely necessary to observe the evolution of the action. The indispensable rapidity of the development of the action favors this disposition. Besides that, the values of the particular spheres of the radio play impose themselves less on the listener than they do in the cinema or in the theater, our eye being more trained in aesthetic perception than our ear (apart from listening to music). Developing the feeling of aesthetics would be a fine task. This question requires special consideration.
In connection with the remarks we have just made, it must be emphasized that between the pure consumption of the radio play or other work of art and the aesthetic [lived experience],179 there is a whole series of intermediate forms; these forms are perhaps a phenomenon, which actually occurs most frequently. On the other hand, [| 51 (1938)] when the listener listens to the broadcast of a play a second time, it is the aesthetic perception which predominates; curiosity having been satisfied, this perception serves to provoke aesthetic feelings, [rather than feelings of knowledge].180 What we have just said relates 450 to the circumstance already noted, that during listening to the broadcast for the second time, the contemplative attitude replaces the expectant attitude. Nevertheless, it must not be supposed that during the first listening, the contemplative attitude can never take place. But the short duration of the particular moments of the radio play action causes the unrealized desire to prolong the constituent parts of the perception and is transferred to the whole as a desire that the perception of the object of the impression be prolonged as much as possible. However, the perception of a radio play is a long-term, evolving process, which, while grasping the structure of the whole, embraces the object as time passes. Now, the contemplative attitude does not manifest itself [| 159 (1939)] during the perception of the play by the desire that the perception of the constituent parts of the play last as long as possible; but by the desire for as prolonged a perception as possible of the whole radio play, constituted of these constituent parts, and succeeding one another.
In the considerations we have just presented, we have not distinguished
179	[In 1939: "perception of its psychic phenomena."]
180	[In 1939, this fragment is omitted.]
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passive perception from active and creative [lived experiences],181 completing this perception and supporting it during the constitution of the aesthetic object. On the contrary, we have affirmed that aesthetic perception thus feels the object, that this feeling makes the object undergo a modification, that this object ceases to be "intangible." Aesthetic perception itself, so it seems, is to a certain extent active and creative, which does not change its fundamental character of receptivity, of the faculty of feeling, which distinguishes it from purely creative, productive, and non-receptive lived experiences. Creative phenomena consist mainly of images due to phantasy or [| 52 (1938)] conceptual representations; receptive phenomena are based on perceptive or imaginative images. After all, the object of perception is "there"; it is not the listener who has "created" it. But the listener completes it involuntarily during the course of perception; without this completion, aesthetic perception is impossible or it is felt as incomplete. On the other hand, the receiver has neither the consciousness of creation nor the intensified feelings, which are always the consequence of an inventive act. The creative moments of aesthetic perception are the result of the involuntary, as one might say, automatic activity of the sensitive receiver. This 451 is especially true of the receiver of the radio play who, not having the temporal perspective182 in the choice of spatial points of view—or rather listening—, has even [| 160 (1939)] less awareness of his collaboration than, for example, the reader of novels or an individual who looks at paintings.
[At the end of these considerations, we will touch upon another issue of a more general nature, but also important for the perception of the radio play. Receptive aesthetic lived experiences occur in psychic life in two forms. Firstly, as secondary components of experiential wholes of a higher order183 of various types, and, secondly, as separate experiential wholes. In the first case, we are dealing with what Dessoir calls an aesthetic reflex, consisting of direct, certain—according to Dessoir—even instinctive liking or disliking.
181	Ingarden, on the other hand, seems to contrast the active-creative and perceptual lived experiences. [In 1939, this footnote is omitted.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
182	It is Ingarden who introduces and explains the notion of the temporal perspective. See Ingarden 1937, 73-101. [See also Ingarden 1973, 105-143.]
183	I explain this term in Blaustein 1935.
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In the second case, we should speak of an aesthetic experience. An aesthetic reflex may occur within the whole of an experience, related for example to a conversation with another person, to a business transaction, to scientific research, and this happens when the aesthetic values of an object unexpectedly and involuntarily catch the eye, arouse astonishment, and suddenly drawing attention to them [|53 (1938)] causes a disruption of the "normal" course of lived experiences at a given moment. Such an aesthetic reflex can become—as Ingarden describes in detail—the beginning of a new lived experiential whole, an aesthetic experience, but it can also pass without any further development, when non-aesthetic interests are so strong that they do not allow the currently lived experiential whole to survive. In the first situation, the aesthetic reflex can be called—following Ingarden—an "initial emotion," with the reservation, however, that it includes not only emotion, but also perception.
An aesthetic experience does not have to arise solely as a continuation of an aesthetic reflex. In a museum, in a theater, in a cinema, in a concert hall, on a tourist trip, when starting to read a literary work of art or with the beginning 452 of the perception of a radio play, another state occurs, preceding aesthetic experiences, namely the state of their expectation. This expectation is expressed both in the area of perception and in the area of emotions. We try to take the appropriate position in relation to the object that is to provide us with an experience; we take the most convenient point of view; we approach it or move away from it; we sharpen our vision with the help of appropriate glasses; we concentrate our attention on what our sight or hearing will provide us with; we detach ourselves from the world around us; we initiate a new lived experiential whole of a higher order; we consciously interrupt the previously experienced one; we isolate the object of aesthetic experience; we possibly adjust ourselves to the imaginative world. In the area of emotions, we experience a joyful state, resulting from the belief that we will experience new aesthetic emotions or repeated ones that were already experienced through this object. Sometimes, this state of expectation and aesthetic experience preparation may occur as a result of an experienced aesthetic reflex, as a state of expecting further excitement from an object that unexpectedly gave us an initial emotion. The expected aesthetic experience may [| 54 (1938)] or may not appear; it may not be complete; it may lack—despite the appropriate perception and constitution
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of the aesthetic object—aesthetic emotion. It may appear with less intensity than expected, e.g., when we perceive the same or a similar aesthetic object for the nth time, when the advertisement or announcement was exaggerated. Too high an expectation is detrimental to the emergence of emotions—that is why, for example, premieres of second plays by authors whose first play was a great success are missed; women who are too famous for their extraordinary beauty are not liked, and so on.
We have described the mental states involved in this in some detail, because one of them, namely the state of expectation, usually occurs before the reception of a radio play. Well, Ingarden speaks rather negatively about such states. "In the mechanized conditions of today's life, however, we have 'hours of practice' planned even for aesthetic lived experiences; we go to the theater, to concerts at specific times, prepared in advance and set that now we will experience aesthetically [...]. The mechanization of life here, too, is a demoralizing factor." (Ingarden 1937, 134-135, fn. 1.)184 It is difficult to agree with this negative view in relation to those aesthetic experiences that require a focus on the imaginative world, and, therefore, also to those experienced 453 in relation to a radio play. On the contrary, the attitude of expectation favors the constitution of the radio play as an aesthetic object. If, when opening the loudspeaker, I did not know that a radio play was the one that was being broadcasted, I would treat the broadcast as a reportage, and then I would not be able to access the aesthetic experience. The perception of a radio play, and even more so the aesthetic perception of a radio play, requires, as we have seen, numerous and external conditions—very different from the usual— and attitudes of the recipient's psychological dispositions that this attitude of expectation and preparation for an aesthetic experience is indispensable, or at least useful. Another thing is that [| 55 (1938)] as a result of these expectations, the initial emotion—as Ingarden rightly writes—"sometimes either does not appear at all or, having appeared, is deprived of that primary, original force and freshness" (Ingarden 1937, 135, fn. 1),185 which it possesses when it occurs with a certain surprise or a sudden revelation. However, I believe that reducing
184	[See also Ingarden 1973, 193-194, fn. 18.]
185	[See also Ingarden 1973, 194, fn. 18.]
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the force of the initial emotion does not have to weaken the whole aesthetic experience.]186
Conclusion
This concludes our considerations, devoted to the perception of radio plays. These studies have revealed a rich problematic from the point of view of psychology and aesthetics; this problematic arises at the moment when perception arouses our theoretical interest. The conclusions of this study will doubtless require completion and modification, and namely for several reasons. First, the perceptive capacities of the radio listener undergo modifications as they are perfected. Second, the radio play itself is at the beginning of its development; it can take forms hitherto unknown. Finally, the results of numerous interviews and surveys can impose changes based on the opinions of a multitude of listeners. Our deductions will achieve their goal if they draw attention to the existence of these problems and give the 454 impulse to the systematic examination of these problems by more numerous groups of observers. Perhaps the Polish Radio Studio Office will want to organize them.
Concluding this study, we will express our opinion on the problem raised at the beginning of our considerations. To reduce radio plays to montage radio plays would be regrettable. As we have seen, the radio play provokes many [lived experiences]187 in the listener, and there are rich possibilities for them. Montage radio plays could impoverish them. These possibilities, so rich, can be exploited only by the perception of such a radio play, in which, besides the feeling of the acoustic material, one arrives at the constitution of the imaginative world as well as at the knowledge of the world of [lived experiences] undergone by characters in the drama. [| 161 (1939)] This does not deny the fact that imaginative or non-imaginative montage radio plays possess their specific aesthetic particularities, which [| 56 (1938)] are revealed in all their fullness, thanks to the fact that they are neither homocentric nor
186	[This fragment, i.e., 1938, 52-55, is omitted in 1939.] [Fragment translated from Polish by Alicja Jakha.]
187	[In 1939: "psychic phenomena."]
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imaginative. Also, from an aesthetic point of view, we must grant them equal rights.
[| 56 (1938)] Appendix: Solitary listener or radio audience?188
As W[itold] Hulewicz once wrote, "radio teaches people to be lonely." This author claims that the radio audience is not a crowd [masa], but a countless number of individual listeners or at most small groups, gathered around the loudspeakers, whether as a family or in a clubhouse. According to R. Kolb, radio—and particularly the radio play—leads not to the collective [zbiorowego], but only to the individual lived experience. Paque emphasizes that, in comparison to the theatrical play, the radio play appeals only to a world of the individual listener.
This fact, emphasized by the aforementioned authors, should be examined in light of social psychology,189 in order to draw some practical conclusions. Although the issue concerns the reception of artistic radio programs in general, it is also relevant in the context of the perception of the radio play.	455
According to numerous social psychologists, for instance [Georg] Simmel, A[loys] Fischer, and others, aesthetic experience is typically a non-collective, isolated, individual psychic lived experience. It is often cited as a counterexample in discussions of [Scipio] Sighele's or [Gustave] Le Bon's so-called "law of summation of affects in the crowd."190 However, if we examine the actual state of affairs without normative bias, the issue [| 57 (1938)] appears different. Certainly, there are "isolated aesthetic experiences." At times, several people may simultaneously have some aesthetic experiences, and yet these experiences are not "joint" lived experiences in the sense of social psychology. However, it is unquestionable that isolated aesthetic lived experiences may be
188	[Translated from Polish by Filip Borek. "Appendix" and "Practical conclusions" were published only in 1938.]
189	The general claims of social psychology used in the following discussion are drawn from the works of [Vladimir] Bekhterev, Berman, [Gustave] Le Bon, MacDougall, [Theodor] Erismann, [Aloys] Fischer, [Willy] Hellpach, [Ludwik] Krzywicki, Simmel, [Gabriel] Tarde, and others.
190	According to this law, the more people experience the same affect in the same place, the stronger this affect becomes.
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influenced by communities of people or by other individuals. Also, we often deal with aesthetic experiences, which are "joint" psychic contents of the (smaller or bigger) group members' consciousnesses. Contrary to the views held by numerous authors, aesthetic experience is not an exception. Like all other lived experiences, it may be influenced by other individuals or entire groups; it may take the form of a "joint" lived experience; it may be shaped in its quality, intensity, and duration by other people. It is more of a rule than an exception—especially in our modern era, which tends toward collective aesthetic experiences. One symptom of this tendency is, for instance, the attempt to create an artificial audience gathered around the microphone. This tendency is often explained by the decline of a more individual form of life within the family—such as existed, for instance, a century ago in [Artur] Schopenhauer's time, when solitary life was comprehended as perfection. In contrast, today, people spend much of their lives in various forms of social communities. Both work and leisure now tend to take on a communal character—a general tendency also driven by the desire to experience aesthetic pleasure.
456 While considering the issue raised by Hulewicz and other authors, we ask whether one should attempt to ascribe a collective character to the aesthetic impression [doznanie] of the radio listener—especially in light of the widespread attempt to create an artificial radio audience.191
[| 58 (1938)] We begin our discussion with a description of typical collective aesthetic experiences, namely those of audience members who are gathered in one place. The simultaneity of their lived experiences alone does not suffice for the emergence of collective lived experiences. Spectators or listeners must share their mental states with others—either in the form of remarks, facial expressions, or gestures. It is irrelevant whether this happens deliberately to inform others about one's lived experiences or simply as an expression of one's mental state. The emergence of the audience, therefore, takes place not through the common object of the aesthetic impression and the shared emotional attitude toward this object, but rather through a certain degree of mutual
191 Of course, this issue is only a fragment of the rich and very interesting problems that arise when we begin to analyze the question of the experience of radio programs from the perspective of social psychology.
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influence among the group members. This influence is not equally strong everywhere. In this respect, we can compare, for example, cinema and theater. A recipient of a movie screening is much more isolated from other spectators than a theatergoer is. The cinemagoer connects with others almost exclusively through laughter in response to a situation's or character's humor. The darkness of a cinema hall disconnects the cinemagoer from the crowd, hiding from him the faces and reactions of other spectators. By contrast, in a theater, we sense more through applause, etc., the approval or disapproval of the play by the audience—and thus we are more subjected to the power of suggestion than in the cinema. In a cinema hall, the number of spectators is almost irrelevant to us. In the theater, however, the empty seats are discouraging not only for the actors, but also for the spectators, whose sensitivity is heightened when the hall is filled to capacity. While the theatrical audience quickly becomes an unorganized community, it is a united community for the duration of the play. The presence of people from the beginning to the end of the play, common expectations, experiences, emotions, and reflections in the form of applause or laughter; intermissions, during which we can observe amused, moved, or bored 457 faces of other spectators; the awareness of how actors view all the [| 59 (1938)] spectators as recipients of the play—these are the main factors responsible for uniting the theatrical audience. Usually, these factors are absent with regard to the cinema audience. That the spectator remains under the enormous influence of other spectators in the field where their reactions always reach their consciousness—namely with regard to laughter—is supported by the observations of the American psychologist Mrs. [F. E.] Lange:
The author went four times to see the same play during one summer and measured the duration of every burst of laughter with a timer. It turned out that during all four performances, there were exactly 137 bursts of laughter. Every episode that made people laugh during the first performance was also the source of laughter during the subsequent ones. The differences in the duration of the bursts of laughter for each episode were less than one second. There was one episode, during which all four audiences laughed equally for exactly eight seconds. When a fragment was played again as the encore during all four performances, the audience laughed again at the same episodes, the same words, and gestures as the first time, but the duration of laughter was halved.
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During the entire play, there was only one instance when the burst of laughter lasted longer than ten seconds; and after this episode, the bursts of laughter lasted longer than before. This episode was the critical moment, when—as actors say—the audience was "warmed up." (Zawadzki 1935/36, 100.)
An individual reading of this comedy or its individual reception through a loudspeaker would not result in such "standard" reactions. How the audience collectively behaves is an important factor affecting individual members of the audience who take part in this behavior. Naturally, what is usually at stake is collective behavior, not deliberate [| 60 (1938)] collective actions. Such actions are possible as well, but they are rare (for instance, a deliberate tribute during an actor's jubilee or deliberate collective catcalling of a play). In respect to collective behavior, we should include not only such "ventings" ["wyladowania sig"], such as laughter and applause, but also silence—the act of refraining from making any noise—, which also has suggestive power, as 458 it shows that the audience is moved by the perceived work of art. Yawning deserves a separate mention—it easily triggers involuntary imitation and negatively affects the course of aesthetic feeling. Therefore, the behavior of collective audiences becomes a source of mass suggestion, i.e., contagion by the state of the environment. Let us now consider the modifications, to which aesthetic experiences are subjected due to this contagion.
From the earlier discussions, we should understand the great importance of attention for aesthetic perception. The attention of the individual who is a member of the audience is unquestionably dependent not only on the value of the perceived object and the individual idiosyncrasies of the recipient, but also on the behavior of the audience. Collective aesthetic perception makes the attention of individuals more stable or unstable, depending on the behavior [of others] in the environment. Changes in the domain of sensitivity and aesthetic evaluation are even more significant. The audience is rarely homogeneous, because the presence of individuals of both sexes is not without significance. As is known, women are more emotional than men in the sense that weaker impressions suffice to move women emotionally. In the case of the collective aesthetic experience, there is also the influence of younger people or young audiences on older recipients who are already less sensitive and more indifferent
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to certain aesthetic values, and vice versa—the influence of more sensitive people on aesthetically-blind young people. Also, from time to time, the whole audience waits for the reaction of some experts, critics, or [| 61 (1938)] other authorities, such as the king, who may be present at the performance. Under such various influences, the initial aesthetic emotion may fade or an affect— which is falsely apprehended as an aesthetic affect—may emerge. When in the crowd, a person thinks less independently and critically, as evidenced by the hastiness of the judgment of the large audience. The reason for this, as explained, is also the increased feeling of the audience's power as judges in comparison to individual recipients. Applause or aversion from the audience is suggestive, because they are categorical, decisive symptoms that do not imply any motives and are impulsive expressions of feelings.192 In the crowd, the individual lacks resistance; one is easily caught up in the so-called "mood" of the audience or in the absence of such a mood. It seems that, in the realm of aesthetic evaluation—where there are no objective criteria—the power of suggestion is particularly strong. The uncertainty of those having aesthetic experiences, the fear of embarrassment, humiliation, and lack of proper aesthetic education— 459 all these factors make it harder to resist the aesthetic evaluations performed by strangers. As is known, the lack of knowledge and opinions in a certain field makes people more vulnerable to suggestion in that field.
Let us comment on other circumstances that strengthen the power of suggestion in the collective aesthetic experience. In the crowd, as well as in the aesthetic attitude, the individual will fades away, although for different reasons. In both, there is one-sidedness [jednotorowosc] and one-directedness [jednokierunkowosc] of thinking and feeling. Last but not least, the state we experience in the aesthetic attitude is—like sleep, tiredness, etc.—an abnormal state, in which we lack the sobriety that characterizes the periods of our lives when we are fighting for survival.
[| 62 (1938)] Obviously, not all members of the audience must succumb to the power of suggestion. As is known, we are not always affected by the mental
192 As the research of the American scholar H. Clark shows (see Zawadzki 1935/36, 103), it might not be without importance whether one sits in the front, middle or back rows.
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state of others. Sometimes it is quite the opposite—we may reject it; someone's aversion may be pleasant to us, someone's affection may make us grumpy, etc. Such examples of counter-suggestion depend on the attitude of the particular individual toward the audience. Someone who comes from the province and does not feel confident among the big-city audience will likely not resist the power of suggestion. Rather, it will be an expert who is aware of their desires and who despises the crowd. A peculiar situation arises, when the audience is divided into two hostile groups with no common emotional basis—hence, no collective desire for certain sensations or sensitivity toward them. Let us imagine the audience at a contemporary music concert, consisting of both its supporters and its detractors. In this case, our claims regarding the influence of the audience on the aesthetically experiencing individual will not apply unconditionally. However, under regular conditions, this influence is very strong. In some cases, the influence is limited to the application of certain forms of social facial expressiveness within the field of aesthetic lived experiences. What I have in mind is a particularly common self-delusion (someone feels 460 they are entranced by the aesthetic values of the object of perception, while in fact, they are moved by something else; or the so-called "pretending") where someone does not admit publicly that they did not experience any aesthetic emotion during the perception of the object of experience. However, the audience's influence may affect the course of the lived experiences themselves, not only their external manifestations. It may induce new types of phenomena (e.g., seeing beauty), change the intensity of lived experiences (e.g., weakening delight), or even modify their quality. Something that is not liked by the spectator might begin to be liked by them through the power of suggestion coming from the environment. The fact is that, due to collective perception, aesthetic emotions may become so incredibly strong in people who are less sensitive that they become more "homogeneous" among the members of the audience and more likely to find their external expression [| 63 (1938)] than in the case of individual perception (especially, when a lack of approval is involved). The reactions during collective experiences also become more extreme. On the other hand, there is a decrease in the capacity for more subtle impressions because of a simplification and "coarsening" of affects, an increase in intolerance, etc.
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By and large, from the very moment the recipient finds themselves experiencing in a community of people, their aesthetic impression is not dependent solely on their sensitivity and the value of aesthetic objects but largely also on the environment's reactions (even if a counter-suggestion is at play). One also has to remember that the power of attraction of every collective experience is not only the experienced object, but also the exaltation, which emerges in the environment. Especially in our modern times, people look for collective exaltations in all aspects of life (cf. the passion for watching sports games), and the object of exaltation becomes even less important than the exaltation itself. People are attracted and gripped by collective raptures, delighted by the possibility of abruptly expressing their inner states without the control of critical observers. It leads us to the important question of whether in the case of collective experience the authentic aesthetic impression ceases to exist. Maybe the modern aesthetic-blindness is nothing but a symptom of the fact that people nowadays have neither the desire nor the patience to have isolated aesthetic impressions, and it is questionable whether in the case of the collective impression we really experience emotion induced by aesthetic values 461 or, rather, take delight in the communality of impression itself.
Unquestionably, radio possesses the power to make people feel lonely during aesthetic impressions. But radio does not always use this power. It creates an artificial audience around the microphone. It transmits the frenetic applause of the concert or theatrical audience. Through the medium of the radio announcer, it assures the listener that the program is being listened to across the whole country, and it enables the speaker to communicate their personal affects to the listeners; to put it briefly, the radio [| 64 (1938)] engages the listener—despite unfriendly circumstances—in a vast radio audience.
The attitude of this study is more descriptive than normative. For this reason, I do not intend to decide whether it should or should not be like this. Rather, I intend to explicitly formulate the problem, which should be clearly recognized by those in charge of radio stations. If they want to contribute to the aesthetic education of the audience, they should use the aforementioned methods of inducing emotions in listeners carefully. If they want to engage the listener in the program, they should use the methods often and perfect them. In fact, in some theaters (e.g., in Bayreuth), there are attempts to resist
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the negative influence of the audience by a conventional restraining of its expressions, by forbidding applause, etc.
Someone might object that our discussion is pointless, because there is no spatial contact between the members of the radio audience. However, such contact is not necessary here, since there are means to communicate the reaction of the audience to the individual, separated listeners. A study on, for example, an audience reading a journal has already shown that spatial contact is not necessary for the constitution of such a community of recipients, which has the power to affect.
193
[| 65 (1938)] Practical conclusions
The aims of this study are research-focused [badawczym] rather than practical. Nevertheless, if its claims are sound, several practical conclusions can be drawn. The most significant of these are outlined below:
1.	For psychological and aesthetic reasons, the term "theater of imagination" 462 should be replaced with another expression, e.g., "radio theater."
2.	The creator of the radio play can provide opportunities for the listener's visual imagination to become active during the experience of a piece; they can encourage the listener [to go] in this direction, but should not assume that such imaginative activity will in fact occur. This is neither possible for everyone nor—for aesthetic reasons—strictly necessary.
3.	The radio play can reveal to the listener the aesthetic value of the world as apprehended through the acoustic dimension of the latter. In order to achieve this, the author must hear the plot of the drama during the creative process rather than see it. The performers [odtworcy] should likewise aim not to impose the vision of the drama's imaginative world on the listener, but rather to induce the "acusion" of that world.
4.	The range of lived experiences that can be evoked by the radio play is vast. These possibilities are fully realized only within imaginative and homocentric radio plays (musical radio plays are not considered here). This does not contradict the fact that the montage, imaginative and even non-
193 [Translated from Polish by Filip Borek.]
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imaginative radio plays possess their own unique aesthetic qualities, which are fully revealed, precisely because they are not homocentric (or are not even imaginative in nature). From the aesthetic point of [| 66 (1938)] view, they are equally legitimate.
5.	If the creators of the radio play do not appeal to the listener's visual imagination, they can only assume that, in the listener's perception, the space of the drama has its own center and infinite depth in all directions. However, they cannot assume that this space possesses a defined left or right side. The listener, in turn, can perceive the distance and direction, from which the voice originates, and thus become aware that different voices are coming from different locations. The spatial dimension of the radio play should be established at the beginning of the listening experience through characteristic noises and sounds, along with a few subtle clues in the dialogue. In the case of the radio play, what is essential is not a precise depiction of the environment through detailed description, but rather the apprehension of its "atmosphere."
6.	Too frequent changes of setting in a short radio play are not advisable, as establishing a new spatial segment requires additional time, even if only brief. 463 It takes less time, however, to re-establish a setting that the plot returns to.
7.	In the imaginative world of the radio play, the passage of time may proceed at a faster rate than in the listener's surrounding reality. In the homocentric drama, however, where human speech plays a central role, such temporal disproportion is impossible.
8.	The requirement of unity of time is not necessary. Shifting to a new, later period in the storyline presents no difficulty for the listener and does not demand any special mental effort. The limitations in this respect stem not from the listener's perceptual abilities, but from the need to maintain narrative dynamism. A plot that stretches over too long a timespan may begin to take on a more epic, rather than dramatic, character. [| 67 (1938)]
9.	Radio announcers' announcements and commentary during the program should be avoided for both psychological and aesthetic reasons. While such announcements made before the start of the radio play do not carry the same drawbacks, they too should be avoided, as they are, after all, unnecessary.
10.	The purely acoustic nature of the radio play gives it a distinctly "presentistic" ["prezentystyczny"] character. The "recollective-perceptual"
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attitude, commonly used in film or literature, is psychologically less digestible for the radio listener.
11.	The simultaneity of broadcasting and reception, which is essential in radio reportage, is less important in the case of the radio play. In the latter, what matters most is the establishment of a social connection between the listener and the actor. What can hinder this connection is the awareness that a device [e.g., a steel recorder] mediates between them.
12.	Due to the listener's perceptual limitations, the requirement for a limited number of characters in radio play is valid—but under certain conditions. The difficulty lies not so much in recognizing who is speaking at a given moment, but rather in recognizing a familiar character in the current speaker's voice.
13.	Episodic characters—those who remain in the background and serve mainly to highlight the traits of the main characters—do not necessarily need to be recognized individually. The listener's perceptual capacity in relation to such secondary figures is relatively broad.
14.	A closer analysis of the means available to the creators and performers 464 of the homocentric radio play reveals that they are limited, when it comes to
presenting the characters' external world and behavior, but exceptionally rich in expressing their inner psychological lives. The "introverted" nature of the radio play facilitates its impact on the listener. [| 68 (1938)]
15.	Since only acoustic sensations are involved, the listener becomes more sensitive not only to the subtlest nuances of timbre, but also emotionally—because the acoustic expression of lived experience has a stronger impact than visual data. This, in turn, makes it easier for the creators and performers of the radio play to lead the listener to empathize [emocjonalnego wspólzycia] with its characters.
16.	The simultaneity of the spoken word and music should be avoided due to the perceptual difficulties it creates. In a non-musical drama, the role of music should be limited to introducing the listener to the appropriate mood, to "connect him with the atmosphere" of the setting. It may be used sparingly to illustrate certain mental states of the characters. However, it should be employed only briefly, as prolonged exposure to music may prompt the listener to reconstruct the setting anew.
17.	Listening without seeing (particularly when it comes to music) is challenging. The one-directional nature of attention during the perception of
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radio play, and the difficulty of switching easily between what is heard and what is imagined or perceived, quickly leads to listener fatigue. Under these circumstances, it is necessary to: a) limit the duration of the radio play, b) ensure the plot is as engaging as possible, attracting the listener's attention and reducing mental effort, c) incorporate short intermissions, such as musical pauses or moments that highlight elements of the "acoustic kitchen."
18.	The analysis of how listeners recall earlier parts of the radio play reveals that creators should not assume a clear, distinct recollection of past scenes— particularly not in the form of acoustic reproductions. Another conclusion that can be drawn from this analysis is the following: dividing the plot into separate "acts," including long intermissions, and lacking plot cohesion are not advisable. [| 69 (1938)]
19.	In the perception of the radio play, both a contemplative and an expectant attitude in the listener are possible. The latter is more common and, due to the challenges of listening, more advisable. The contemplative attitude, which is more desirable from the aesthetic point of view, can be achieved, for example,
by encouraging the listener to re-listen to the drama, when it is broadcast again. 465
20.	For the sake of the overall image [wyobrazenie] induced in the listener by the radio play, perception alone is not enough; the pre- and post-perceptive phases are also essential. The broadcasting of the drama must aim to properly influence the listener's experience during these phases, for example, by awakening the right expectations before the broadcast, incorporating a silent pause, or using appropriate music after the drama ends.
21.	The reception of the drama—even if it has great aesthetic value—does not suffice for its aesthetic perception by the listener. Aesthetic color-blindness is also present in this domain. Gaining a clear understanding of the conditions for the aesthetic perception of the radio play and providing proper educational influence on listeners may help eliminate the consumption of artistic dramas in favor of a deeper aesthetic impression. The listener of the radio play should be educated in a similar way to how one educates the recipients of literary works of art, musical pieces, theatrical plays, movies, visual arts, and so on.
22.	If radio wants to contribute to the aesthetic upbringing of its listeners, especially if it aims to teach solitude during aesthetic experiences, it should use attempts to create an artificial audience around the microphone, as well as
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similar measures, in moderation. However, if radio seeks to attract the listener with its program, regardless of whether it induces an aesthetic or any other experience, such measures should be used frequently and in perfected manner. [| 70 (1938)]
23. The listener's perceptual abilities improve over time. Such changes result from specific pedagogical measures or frequent listening. Over time, they can enable the extension of the duration of radio plays, the inclusion of more main characters, and so on.
Bibliography | Bibliografija
Blaustein, Leopold. 1930. Przedstawienia imaginatywne. Studyum zpogranicza
psychologii i estetyki. Lwow: Wydawnictwo Polskiego Towarzystwa Filozoficznego we Lwowie. [Partly reprinted in: Blaustein, Leopold. 2005. Wybor pism estetycznych, ed. by Zofia Rosinska, 40-68. Krakow: TAiWPN Universitas.] ---. 1933. Przyczynki do psychologii widza kinowego. Poznan: Poznanskie
Towarzystwo Psychologiczne. [Reprint in: Blaustein, Leopold. 2005. Wybor pism estetycznych, ed. by Zofia Rosinska, 92-127. Krakow: TAiWPN Universitas.] 466 ---. 1935. "O zadaniach psychologii humanistycznej." Przeglqd Filozoficzny 38 (1-2): 33-57.
---. 1935/36. "O imaginatywnym swiecie sztuki." Miesiçcznik Literatury i Sztuki 2 (89): 243-249 [Reprint in: Blaustein, Leopold. 2005. Wybor pism estetycznych, ed. by Zofia Rosinska, 128-135. Krakow: TAiWPN Universitas.] ---. 1936. "Czy naprawdç 'teatr wyobrazni'?" Pion: Tygodnik Literacko-Spoieczny 4 (42/159): 5. [Reprint in: Blaustein, Leopold. 2005. Wybor pism estetycznych, ed. by Zofia Rosinska, 197-200. Krakow: TAiWPN Universitas.] ---. 1937a. "Das imaginative Kunstwerk und seine Gegebenheitsweise." In Deuxième Congrès International d'esthétique et de science de l'art, Paris, 1937, ed. by Paul Valéry, Paul Claudel, and Victor Basch, 245-249. Paris: Librairie Félix Alcan. ---. 1937b. "Rola percepcji w doznaniu estetycznym." Przeglqd Filozoficzny 40 (4): 399-408. [Reprint in: Blaustein, Leopold. 2005. Wybor pism estetycznych, ed. by Zofia Rosinska, 136-144. Krakow: TAiWPN Universitas.] ---. 2011. "The Role of Perception in Aesthetic Experience." Trans. by Monika
Bokiniec. Estetika: The Central European Journal of Aesthetics 48 (2): 235-243. Hulewicz, Witold. 1935. Teatr wyobrazni. Uwagi o siuchowisku i literackim
scenarjuszu radjowym. Warsaw: Biuro Studiow Polskiego Radia. Ingarden, Roman. 1937. Opoznawaniu dzieia literackiego Lvov: Wydawnictwo
Zakladu Narodowego im. Ossolinskich. ---. 1973. The Cognition of the Literary Work of Art. Trans. Ruth Ann Crowley and Kenneth R. Olson. Evanston: Northwestern University Press.
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Kolb, Richard. 1932. Das Horoskop des Hörspiels. Berlin: Max Hesses Verlag. Lissa, Zofia. 1937. Muzyka i film. Studium zpogranicza ontologii, estetyki ipsychologii
muzyki filmowej. Lvov: Ksi^garnia Lwowska. Markinöwna, Estera. 1932. "Wyobraznia a fantazja." Polskie Archiwum Psychologii 5 (4): 431-434.
Paque, Kurt. 1936. Hörspiel und Schauspiel. Eine Dramaturgie. Breslau: Ostdeutsche Verlagsanstalt.
Zawadzki, Bohdan. 1935/36. "Ze wspölczesnej psychologii amerykanskiej." Polskie Archiwum Psychologii 8 (2): 97-112.
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