1. Where the sphere of practical objects ends, and that of art begins, depends, then, on the intention of the creators. This intention cannot be absolutely determined. In the first place, intentions are, per se, incapable of being defined with scientific precision. In the second place, the intentions of those who produce objects are conditioned by the standard of their period and environment. Classical taste demanded that private letters, legal speeches and the shields of heroes should be artistic (with the possible result of what might be called fake beauty), while modern taste demands that architecture and ashtrays should be functional (with the possible result of what might be called fake efficiency). Finally our estimate of those intentions is inevitably influenced by our own attitude, which in turn depends on our individual experiences as well as on our historical situation. We have all seen with our own eyes the transference of spoons and fetishes of African tribes from the museums of ethnology into art exhibitions.

€“ Erwin Panofsky, excerpt from The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline, 1940, in Art History and its Methods: A Critical Anthology, ed. Eric Fernie (London: Phaidon, 1995), 191.

OR

2. The work of art has been compared to the ing of a window upon the world. Now, a window can claim the whole of our attention or none. One may, it is said, contemplate the view without concerning oneself in the very least with the quality, structure, or colour of the window-pane. By this analogy, the work of art can be describe as a mere vehicle for experiences, a transparent window-pane, or a sort of eyeglasses not noticed by the wearer and employed simply as means to an end. But just as one can concentrate one’s attention upon the window-pane and the structure of the glass without taking note of the view beyond, so, it is said, one can treat the work of art
as an independent, opaque’ formal structure, complete in itself and in isolation, as it were, from anything external to it. No doubt one can stare at the window-pane as long as one likes; still, a window is made to look out of.

€“ Arnold Hauser, excerpt from The Philosophy of Art History, 1959, in Art History and its Methods: A Critical Anthology, ed. Eric Fernie (London: Phaidon, 1995), 206.