“Edible Aesthetics”: Blurring Boundaries between Pastry and Art

Abstract

The inquiry into whether food can be classified as “art” has long been a subject of debate. From its roots tracing back to Plato, this question has attracted the attention of both artistic movements and philosophers, especially throughout the twentieth century. In this paper, I aim to revisit this contentious issue by exploring the realm of pastry making as a form of art. Within the broader discourse on this topic, pastry emerges as a distinctive medium. Since sweets have historically transcended their mere nutritive functions, pastry may establish an immediate connection between art and food. Simultaneously, it reiterates the persistent challenges of encompassing the edible domain within conventional aesthetic theories. Throughout various contexts and periods, confectionery has evolved through the reproduction or imitation of visual arts, often reflecting the prevailing artistic climate of its flourishing periods. Moreover, due to its intimate association with rituals and celebratory occasions, pastry carries a profound cognitive and metaphorical framework that enhances its expressive potential, capturing the attention of many artists. By exploring the intersection of pastry and various artistic genres, drawing on illustrative examples ranging from modern European pièce montées to American cake design and Japanese wagashi, I critically examine the possibility and potential aesthetic qualities of this marginal genre, thereby opening up broader inquiries into the loose categorizations and fluctuations within the intricate domain of art.

1. Introduction

The inquiry into whether food can be classified as “art” has long been a subject of debate. From its roots tracing back to Plato, this question has attracted the attention of both artistic movements and philosophers, especially throughout the 20th century (see among many: Telfer 1996; Korsmeyer 1999; Perullo 2017). Here, I aim to revisit this contentious issue by exploring the realm of pastry making as a form of art. Within the broader discourse on this topic, pastry emerges as a distinctive medium. Since sweets have historically transcended their mere nutritive functions, pastry may establish an immediate connection between art and food. Simultaneously, it reiterates the persistent challenges of encompassing the edible domain within conventional aesthetic theories. There is a noticeable absence of studies on this subject, and many scholars who have explored the intersection of cuisine and art have largely overlooked pastry as a fertile area for unraveling the complexities of this relationship. I believe this oversight can be attributed to two factors: first, pastry has often been treated as an indistinct facet of cooking without acknowledging its distinct role within the culinary domain. Second, when considered separately, as already noted, pastry products have rarely been viewed as a means to fulfill nutritional needs, lacking the fundamental and somewhat problematic characteristic typically associated with food. This article aims to address this gap in the literature by shedding light on these unexplored aspects of the connection between food and the realm of art. Pastry positions itself on the boundary that has historically separated art and food, sometimes aligning more with the side of the perishable and edible, while at other times adopting traits typical of fine art. In doing so, it blurs these boundaries and transforms them into a space of convergence and potential intermingling between two spheres traditionally considered distinct. This underscores the importance of investigating this specific topic as it has the potential to provide a fresh perspective on the broader question of whether edible creations can be classified as art and how we define art itself.

The guiding questions of this article delve into the intersection between the domain of everyday aesthetics and the concept of artwork. The field of everyday aesthetics encompasses phenomena and practices associated with daily life, involving experiences often regarded as ordinary or routine. These experiences, which can include aspects of home life, commuting, workplaces, and leisure activities (Leddy 2012), are occasionally seen as extensions of the artistic realm, accompanied by related aesthetic theorization (Light and Smith 2005; Saito 2007a, 2017). Many scholars studying everyday aesthetics often take inspiration from John Dewey’s work, especially from his book Art as Experience (1934). Dewey’s exploration of «having an experience» is influential because it suggests that aesthetic experiences can be found in all aspects of daily life, whether enjoying a meal or driving a car (Saito 2023). We can conceptualize the term “experience” as an ongoing and dynamic interplay between individuals and their environment. This experience takes on an aesthetic dimension when it is enriched by the active engagement of both subjects and objects. Building on this premise, Dewey contends that there should be no inherent qualitative difference between everyday experiences and those arising from art. These two realms exist along a continuum, even though they may offer different degrees of gratification and engagement (Dewey [1934] 2005). In this regard, food itself can be considered as an essential part of our daily aesthetics.

Given this premise, it is important at this introductory stage to draw a distinction between two interpretative spheres: “pastry in art” and “pastry as art” (following Korsmeyer′s (2004) and Perullo’s (2017) differentiation). The “pastry in art” category examines how pastry’s unique characteristics, historical evolution, and specific ingredients can contribute to more traditional art forms. This includes exploring how artists have utilized pastry’s distinctive qualities in their work. This could involve examining contemporary artists who worked and still work with pastry, such as Félix González-Torres, Janine Antoni, Marije Vogelzang, Laila Gohar, Kara Walker, Joseph Marr, and many more.1 While these collaborations between art and pastry have indeed blurred boundaries and revealed pastry’s capacity to convey specific messages, my interest here does not lie in investigating this aspect. The main focus of this article is whether pastry, as a bundle of objects, practices, and processes, can be considered artistic expression on its own. To answer this, we will need to delve into the definition of art itself, guided by the insights of everyday aesthetics. This perspective allows us to appreciate the nuances and lack of rigid categorization between the aesthetic and artistic, as well as between art and non-art.

Building upon this foundation, the initial section of this paper will be guided by the research questions: Can pastry be art? In essence, how can pastry offer a different and unique perspective within the intricate interplay of culinary practices and the realm of art? Furthermore, if it does hold this status, what are the contributing factors? Following a section that provides methodological clarification and outlines some semantic-historical insight, in the third section, I will begin by addressing the various issues and objections that have been raised regarding the categorization of food as a subject of art. I will further extend these inquiries to the realm of pastry, seeking to ascertain whether it could potentially provide specific or more comprehensive solutions.

This exploration leads us to consider potential instances where art and pastry intersect. Throughout various contexts and periods, pastry and confectionery (I will elaborate more on the subtle distinction between them in the following section) have evolved through the reproduction or imitation of visual arts, often reflecting the prevailing artistic climate of their flourishing periods. Moreover, due to its intimate association with rituals and celebratory occasions, pastry carries a profound cognitive and metaphorical framework that enhances its expressive potential. Therefore, the fourth part of the article will explore the question: With which artistic genre does pastry align? Consequently, within the historical context of pastry, can we identify specific instances that exemplify its relationship with the world of art? In this section, I will delve into the particular evolution of pastry in relation to the “major arts”. By analyzing some notable confectionery cases, my objective is to establish a correlation between pastry and distinct artistic domains such as sculpture, architecture, design, and performance. This path of juxtaposition will allow important elements to be added to the definition of pastry as a form of artistic expression, seeking to refine its position and simultaneously offer fresh insights into the broad definition of art.

The research questions, serving as the basis for the conclusive discussion, lead to a critical examination questioning the possibility and potential aesthetic qualities of this marginal genre, thereby opening up broader inquiries into the loose categorizations and fluctuations within the intricate domain of art.

2. Conceptual Approach (and Some Semantic-Historical Insights)

This article operates within the realms of gustatory aesthetics and philosophy of food, which are areas dedicated to unraveling the philosophical importance and manifold meanings of food and taste. In the field of aesthetics, I adopt an interpretive approach grounded in the aesthetics of everyday life, which encourages the breakdown of rigid distinctions between art and non-art, inviting the consideration of commonplace practices as subjects worthy of aesthetic inquiry. The chosen research methodology is thus firmly rooted in philosophy, but given the limited existing literature in this area, this article employs an interdisciplinary approach, incorporating insights from history, anthropology, and art history.

My unique position and methodology are derived from a hybrid background: a philosophical foundation combined with practical experience, including engagement with many accomplished pastry chefs. The side of practice endows me with an intimate and concrete understanding of the operational intricacies of a genre that has often been on the periphery, even within the culinary world. The methodology seamlessly integrates philosophical and conceptual reflections with practical and embodied knowledge, yielding a deeper comprehension of the underlying principles at play.

In this methodological section, it is important to provide some semantic clarifications, which, in turn, necessitate minimal historical contextualization. In this article, I will primarily, though not exclusively, focus on modern European pastry. This tradition reached its zenith during the transition from confiserie to pâtisserie, a transformation largely attributed to the work of Carême. Marie-Antoine Carême (who adopted the name Antonin) was a remarkably prolific pastry chef, culinary expert, and author. Despite humble beginnings as the son of a bricklayer, Carême is renowned as one of the pioneers who formalized and standardized international haute cuisine. His career commenced with a study of Palladio’s architectural sketches at the Cabinet des Estampes of the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, eventually leading him to prestigious positions such as the head chef for the prince Regent and various other aristocrats (Revel 1984; Bernier 1989). During the 18th century, particularly in Italy and France, the culinary landscape was characterized by desserts that featured elaborate decorations and often included many inedible components. This intricate work was not typically undertaken by the pastry chef (pâtissier) but rather by a specialist known as the officier, who operated in a dedicated workshop referred to as the office. It was only towards the end of the 18th century that a clear distinction emerged between pâtisserie and confiserie, with the latter often falling under the purview of the officier. This distinction marked a separation between the edible and non-edible, between functionality and decoration. As a result, the pâtissier was initially seen as lacking the necessary skills for modeling and design, qualities that were attributed to the confiseur (Jarrin [1820] 1827, p. 215). Over time, the bourgeois dining table began to phase out the role of the confectioner, along with the elaborate ornamentation of cakes, which came to be viewed as ephemeral exhibitions rather than culinary creations (more on this topic in the fourth section). Pastry thus became a unique field, in which the skills of the confiseur were mixed with the culinary techniques of the pâtissier.

In contemporary usage, the terms “pastry” and “confectionery” are often used interchangeably, with the main distinction being that pastry typically refers to baked products made from dough (which can also be savory), while confectionery encompasses a broader category of sweet food products often made with sugar. However, in practice, these terms can overlap, and their usage may vary. Here, for the sake of clarity, I use them interchangeably, referring to culinary practices related to all sweet items. Similarly, I adopt a certain degree of semantic flexibility when dealing with terms such as “desserts”, “confectioneries”, and “sweets”. However, their usage may not always be entirely interchangeable, as it will depend on the specific context and historical reference being made. I provide clarification and specify their usage when necessary for clarity and understanding. To provide some additional historical and contextual specifics, it is worth noting that dessert only assumed its contemporary significance later on, particularly during the 18th and 19th centuries. The term “dessert”, derived from the French word desservir, meaning “to clear the table”, referred to a dish, often sweet, served to cleanse the palate and conclude the meal. A precursor to the dessert on aristocratic tables was the “entremêt”—literally the interval between main courses. Over time, it transformed into an edible and ornamental centerpiece, often drawing inspiration from classical statuary. In England, the equivalent to entremets was known as “subtlety”.

Lastly, a similar approach is taken with conceptual terms related to the philosophy of art. Here, I prefer using the term “artistic expression” over “work of art”, recognizing that this differentiation is somewhat contentious. “Work of art” typically pertains to tangible objects and creations (including musical compositions), which conventionally align with institutional theories of art. Conversely, “artistic expression” carries a broader connotation, encompassing not only objects but also the entire creative process and the act of creation itself. This approach is more suitable for addressing a field—like the culinary one—that has, until some recent times, existed on the periphery of the traditional art world.

3. Can Pastry Be Art?

As already pointed out, the inquiry into whether the realm of food can be deemed artistic, and consequently whether edible creations can be equated with works of art, has interested the history of philosophical thought, albeit marginally. The reasons for not considering the issue of “food as art” as essential are deeply rooted in Western philosophy’s historical approach both to food and art. These reasons can be summarized into two main issues: the sense of taste and the definition of art. Firstly, the sense of taste, closely tied to food, has often been overlooked and considered inferior in comparison to other senses. This bias arises from the belief that taste involves sensory enjoyment that requires direct contact and cannot be appreciated from a distance. Many have argued that the sense of taste does not lead to a type of pleasure that can be defined as aesthetic or artistic (see Korsmeyer 1999)—a topic that I will revisit in the upcoming sections.

Secondly, the challenge of defining art lies in how and when to classify something as part of the art world. The distinction between high art and low art has long been a prevalent notion, and institutional theories of art have sought to clearly delineate what can be categorized as artistic and what cannot (Perullo 2017). In the 21st century, as the definition of art becomes more expansive and less rigid, there has been a corresponding shift in the aesthetic perspective on food, and some philosophers have begun to increase their attention to it. This shift in focus, particularly in the United States, is attributed to a group of female philosophers who took an interest in everyday practices often overlooked by Western philosophy. They drew inspiration particularly from Dewey’s philosophy of experience, within the realms of ontology and aesthetics (Heldke 1988; Telfer 1996; Korsmeyer 1999). In addressing the problem of defining art in the context of food, Glenn Kuehn succinctly captured the essence of the matter, maintaining that:

An adequate assessment of food’s aesthetic worth has to go deeper than theories based on mimesis, social construction, formalism, emotion, and so on, can go. Food must live in a theory of art that embraces such things as temporality, process, qualitative experience, and ambiguity.

(Kuehn 2012, p. 91)

From this perspective, we can now delve deeper into the topic. In the following paragraphs, I intend to examine the key objections and relative answers put forth by various authors across the spectrum of classical to contemporary perspectives, questioning their relevance when applied to confectionery. The aim is to determine whether the unique status of pastry can provide alternative or more compelling perspectives to address these questions. The primary criticisms regarding the classification of food as art encompass its utilitarian nature (Section 3.1) and its consumption (Section 3.2), the potential for conveying expression (Section 3.3) and representation (Section 3.4), as well as pastry-specific concerns associated with an overemphasis on decoration (Section 3.5) and with technical proficiency (Section 3.6).

3.1. Interest

As is widely acknowledged, the German philosopher Immanuel Kant distinguished between the enjoyment of the agreeable, which pertains to the palate, and the appreciation of the beautiful in his Critique of Judgment. In §2 of the Analytic of the Beautiful, Kant maintained:

Everyone must admit that a judgment about beauty in which there is mixed the least interest is very partial and not a pure judgment of taste. One must not be in the least biased in favor of the existence of the thing, but must be entirely indifferent in this respect in order to play the judge in matters of taste.

(Kant [1790] 2000, p. 91)

In §5 he added:

Concerning the interest of inclination in the case of the agreeable, everyone says that hunger is the best cook, and people with a healthy appetite relish everything that is edible at all; thus such a satisfaction demonstrates no choice in accordance with taste. Only when the need is satisfied can one distinguish who among the many has taste or does not.

(ibid., pp. 95–96)

This Kantian distinction prompts us to consider art only within the realm of objects that can be contemplated in a detached manner, devoid of external functions, particularly those of a pragmatic nature. As a result, the taste experienced through the palate is not typically regarded as an aesthetic sense. This is because it is related to bodily rather than cognitive interests and is not associated with beauty, which is typically linked to the distal senses (sight and hearing). Food itself is excluded from the category of art due to its inherent necessity for survival, its utilitarian and everyday dimensions, and the interested pleasure it elicits. Certain authors have responded to this central objection by contending that the presence of interest and utility of food does not inherently diminish its potential aesthetic value. Andina and Barbero, for instance, asserted that food can possess an inherent worth akin to that of a traditional work of art, even while maintaining its functional purpose (Andina and Barbero 2018, p. 355).

Moreover, if we consider the sense of taste not solely through the Kantian lens as a criterion for judging visual or auditory beauty but as a material sense that engenders sensory enjoyment, we can establish a differentiation between eating and tasting: while the former would lack aesthetic qualities due to its functional aspect, the latter has the potential for aesthetics, as it is directed towards appreciation for its own sake. This argument, however, has its limitations as it clearly separates the aesthetic pleasure derived from the sense of taste from the act of consumption itself, diminishing the significance of eating as a mere incidental activity for nourishment. This distinction, nevertheless, aligns taste somewhat with the higher senses, treating it similarly to sight (Prall [1929] 1983, pp. 60–61; Korsmeyer 1999, pp. 136–37).

In the historical development of European pastry, sight has long remained the primary mode for aesthetically appreciating edible creations. Thus, the unique status of pastry prompts a consideration of whether the discrepancy between functionality and disinterest becomes more noticeable. Throughout their European history, confections were primarily regarded as visual artifacts, liberated from the constraints of nutritional necessity, thus occupying a distinct position. In line with the spirit of the 19th century, consider the renowned sugar sculptures created by the already mentioned Marie-Antoine Carême, the great master of French cuisine. These intricate creations were not primarily designed for consumption, but originally crafted for visual appeal. They accompanied other courses or served as centerpieces at banquets, fulfilling roles that extended beyond nourishment and even gustatory pleasure. Consequently, confections were occasionally included by chefs and artists in the sphere of fine arts, albeit within a marginal position. De facto, the exhibition value of sweets is never negligible; however, fully focusing on their form—as suggested by the common saying “one eats with the eyes” frequently applied to pastry creations—might lead us astray. Yet, making confectionery solely as a visually enduring object, appreciable to the eye, contributes little to resolving the fundamental question of whether food qualifies as art. Instead, the most intriguing aspect lies precisely in pastry’s double nature—a point warranting further exploration.

In this regard, Marienne L. Quinet (1981) encouraged us to reflect on the intricate correlation between art and food using spun sugar as a notable example. In her consideration, food presents less as a source of concern and more as an opportunity for an enhanced dimension, surpassing the conventional visual (or occasionally auditory) appreciation associated with modern art objects. According to Quinet, while food inherently serves a functional purpose, this awareness does not preclude the potential for edible art to possess aesthetic value that can be appreciated. The comprehension of various aspects related to food, encompassing its nutritional content, energy contribution, and symbolic significance, profoundly underpins our aesthetic experience. She maintained:

Whether or not I actually appreciate or evaluate the work by eating or tasting it, the knowledge that its principal ingredients are just those which I might be eating or tasting seems indeed to contribute to my visual appreciation of the work. […] If spun sugar is more difficult to handle than a number of other visually indistinguishable materials, then knowledge that it is spun sugar is aesthetically relevant.

(Quinet 1981, p. 165)

I believe it is not accidental that the scholar specifically employed sugar as an illustrative example, a substance that possesses distinct attributes within the realm of potential foods. Spun sugar, with its resemblance to various materials yet having intricate processing demands, intriguingly shows its twofold nature and is therefore worthy of artistic appreciation. Thus, functionality, rather than serving as a hindrance, imbues food with a distinctive artifactual quality. While it aids in sketching a possible response, Quinet’s perspective might not be entirely convincing. Despite the example of sugar, her emphasis primarily revolved around the nutritional facet of food, dissecting it into a mere assortment of constituents while potentially neglecting its comprehensive value. Additionally, her inclination toward privileging the visual element for the aesthetic appreciation of a culinary composition takes us back to the starting point, leading us to confront, especially, the concept of artistic temporality.

3.2. Consumption

In the conventional paradigm of aesthetics, artistic creations endure over time; conversely, food is transitory, subject to decay and eventual disappearance. This viewpoint aligns with one of the assertions put forth by the idealist philosopher G. W. F. Hegel and subsequently revisited by contemporary scholars such as Elizabeth Telfer (1996) and Frank Sibley (2001). Hegel stated:

The purely theoretical process is managed by the tools of the senses of seeing and hearing; what we see or hear we leave as it is. On the other hand, the organs of smell and taste are already the beginnings of a practical relation. For we can smell only what is in the process of wasting away, and we can taste only by destroying.

(Hegel [1835] 1975, pp. 137–38, my it.)

Hegel distinguished between objects that engage our sight or hearing, allowing for a “theoretical” relationship where there is no direct contact or alteration of the object by us, and objects related to taste and smell that require a “practical relationship” because they must be consumed, leading to their direct alteration or destruction to establish a connection. In Hegel’s discussion of art, he encompassed both permanent and static artifacts and performing arts. While different, these various art forms can all be appreciated from a distance, and in the case of performative arts, often involve archiving and repetition. This distinguishes them from food, where immediate consumption prevents such preservation.

Now, let us shift our focus to objects within the realm of pastry, which typically stand out for their relatively prolonged nature compared to other foods. On this point, it is essential to preemptively address a potential misconception: in contemporary fine dining, dessert constitutes the most ethereal and fleeting component of a meal. Not only does it serve reduced functionality (typically arriving when hunger is satisfied), but its consistent traits include being “airy”, cold, and light, rendering it highly perishable. Yet, delving into the historical evolution of confectionery closely tied to the widespread use of sugar, a different perspective emerges, with sweeteners, baking products, or marzipan standing out as exceptionally stable food items. Consequently, sweets, being less “fragile”, align more closely with the ideal of preserving and extending the endurance of artistic objects (Korsmeyer 1999). Moreover, the extended shelf-life of the ingredients used in confections not only preserves their outward appearance but also allows them to be consumed long after their creation, also satisfying the concept of “gustatory durability”. However, when it comes to this point, the matter is not as easily dismissible based on the concept of the “durability” of art, which does not neatly apply to any realm of food. Food is intrinsically temporal and inherently exists within the realm of time; disregarding temporality or, conversely, deeming it as a decisive factor for the artistic merit of food, leads to misconceptions about its specificity (Kuehn 2005). Sweets occupy a unique position wherein consumption and preservation both coexist and alternate. The crucial aspect here is that they retain their identity as edible substances, remaining potentially consumable even though they are primarily crafted for display.

As previously stated, food can be understood not only in terms of its physical properties but also in relation to its performative nature, wherein it engages us in an event, much like the realm of art encompassing intangible creations (Monroe 2007). In this regard, if we consider confections as more than just static entities, analogies can be drawn with theater, music, and dance. A good historical example is the modern European banquet, to which I shall return. In banquets, sweet food occupies indeed a central position within the intricate work of the confectioner, forming a multifaceted choreography where various elements of the performing arts come together.

3.3. Expression

A further objection to the artistic nature of cooking comes from the 20th century philosopher Frank Sibley. He contested the immediate potential for food to have an emotional contribution, contending that a hierarchy of arts exists based on the range of emotions they can elicit. Thus, Sibley pointed out:

Perfumes and flavors, natural or artificial, are necessarily limited: unlike the major arts, they have no expressive connections with emotions, love or hate, grief, joy, terror, suffering, yearning, pity, or sorrow—or with plot or character development.

(Sibley 2001, p. 249)

Sibley argued that unlike colors or sounds, which are associated with the “major arts” and can directly express emotions, perfumes or flavors do not have the same expressive bond with the highly emotional realm of art. This perspective, in turn, rests on another categorical differentiation: that which separates the ordinary from the extraordinary. Art, according to this, embodies the extraordinary rather than the everyday dimension, while food is the very symbol of the mundane and daily life. In reaction to this, various scholars have advocated for a more inclusive and ductile conception of the artistic (Naukkarinen 2012; Shiner 2012). This challenge can be addressed by redefining the very concept of art itself. The value of an artwork, along with its subsequent capacity to convey or evoke emotions, becomes contingent upon the context and environment that shape everyday life (Perullo 2017; Koczanowicz 2023). The value of aesthetic experiences does not solely stem from extraordinary creations; instead, it emerges from processes that exhibit artistic qualities through their seamless connection with the ordinary (Perullo 2017).

Within this framework, where would the specificity of pastry come into play? Besides resting on a «natural disposition of some flavors to be liked» (Korsmeyer 1999, p. 132), the significance and emotiveness of sweet foods are heightened by their manifold social roles. Starting with the ambrosia at divine tables in ancient Greek culture, the expressive significance of sweet taste transforms confections into symbols of celebratory occasions. Their symbolic nature, linked to notions of prosperity, good fortune, and luck, proves especially valuable during festive events. The importance of sweet food is encapsulated in the rituals with which it is frequently associated across various cultures and locations. This aspect aligns its function with that of “traditional” works of art; during moments of celebration, fine artists engage in the act of creation to capture these unique and unreproducible occasions. The process of artistic creation itself is inherently festive, as it transforms the continuous passage of everyday time into a shared collective consciousness (Kerényi [1940] 1995). Unlike other culinary experiences, sweet foods, within specific contexts, signify a multitude of meanings. For instance, they often serve as ceremonial symbols, tools for intra-social communication, gifts, manifestations of the sacred, and substitutes for sacrifices. While in the modern era they have become associated with guilt and weakness due to widespread “saccharophobia” (Fischler 1987), in honey or pre-sugar taboo times, sweet food represented collective and public moments, emphasizing the communal significance of taste in rites of passage. Hence, confections carry with them a substantial cognitive and metaphorical impact, which enhances their expressive potential and engenders a mode of experience that can be classified as artistic.

3.4. Representationalism

Elizabeth Telfer’s objection, raised against the artistic nature of cooking, contended that unlike art, which can possess intricate meanings and emotions, food remains bound to its own essence, lacking the capacity to evoke complex intuitions or sentiments (Telfer 1996). In response, Kuehn suggested that depicting art only as a source of emotional upheaval on one side and being separate from everyday life on the other overly limits this portrayal (Kuehn 2005, p. 208).

A similar viewpoint to Telfer’s was echoed by the anthropologist Mary Douglas ([1982] 2011, p. 111). She posited that food’s shapes—particularly those of confections—mirror other objects and natural elements because the culinary system, in essence, is not exceedingly complex. The inherent incapability of food to ascend to the realm of art is thereby linked to its intrinsic value. Yet, a tendency towards anti-naturalism seems to be at play here. Paradoxically, despite the venerable history of the concept of mimesis, the emulation of nature can be equated with a deficiency of artistic essence or even perceived as frivolous when applied to edible creations.

As already suggested, the intricate symbolic system underpinning various sweet forms carries significant representational potential. For instance, the Neapolitan cook Antonio Latini’s Scalco alla moderna presents some of the earliest depictions of sugar triumphs that serve to «nourish the intellect» (quoted from Di Schino 2015, p. 46). These triumphs encompass animals, flowers, and plants, as well as structures like towers, castles, houses, and mythological or historical figures. The emulation of the intricate patterns of nature, ranging from imitating flowers to transforming natural landscapes into sugar representations (Lucchetti 2009, pp. 79–80), stands as a defining attribute of the representational ability intrinsic to both confectionery and the visual arts.

Moreover, this becomes evident not only in the imitation of natural or artistic works but also in the transformation of confections into objects with meanings that greatly differ from their outward appearance. There is an abundance of examples, ranging from gummy bears to croissants, and from Easter breads to sugar skulls (Korsmeyer 1999, pp. 118–19). Drawing upon Nelson Goodman’s categories, representationalism can also be established through denotation (Goodman 1968, p. 5). This entails attributing meaning to something that may not precisely match the physical attributes of the object being denoted, yet embodies its significance. An illustration of this concept can be found in traditional pastry where spirals, circles, and braids are commonly used. These shapes symbolize various elements such as stars, animals (most notably snakes and snails), the convergence of cosmic and earthly forces, and the changing of seasons. A well-known example is the shape of the German bretzel, which is believed to have originated from an ancient weave, possibly of Celtic origin. Over time, it evolved to represent religious symbolism, resembling a monk with folded arms or the divine Trinity (Korsmeyer 1999; Armengaud 2000). In the realm of pastry, these distinctive shapes and their meanings predispose us to their aesthetic appreciation.

3.5. Decorativism

An additional objection, particularly pertinent to sweets, contends that cooking might merely constitute an «applied decorative art», as suggested by Douglas ([1982] 2011, p. 107). Notably, the anthropologist specifically employed the wedding cake as an example when questioning the artistic value of food. And yet, can we truly simplify pastry to merely a demonstration of mannerism and culinary acrobatics?

In this context, it is worth considering the philosophical concept of “artification” as decoration, wherein the practical utility of an object is replaced by its ornamental qualities: «Among the varied phenomena embraced by the idea of artification as decoration are the traditional notions of “beautification” and “applied art”, […]. In decoration, the “art” is a supplement to something already existing» (Shiner 2012). The criticism of insignificance frequently directed at edible creations parallels the fate of other artistic forms, such as certain examples of architecture perceived as “artificated”. In such instances, ornamentation and cosmetic embellishments are often seen as masking a lack of conceptual or emotional depth. Similarly, in our specific case, these embellishments might be construed as adorning a type of food that inherently lacks both nutritional value and functional significance within the progression of a meal. The notion of inessentiality aligns with that of inauthenticity, wherein decorative elements are seen as forms of mystification without purpose, failing to align with the intrinsic nature of the object.

The concept of luxury food also stems from excessive decorative tendencies. Just as in architecture, ornamentation within the culinary arts was used as a marker of luxury. The more intricate the embellishments adorning a dessert, the more labor and raw materials have been invested in its creation, rendering it more expensive too. The advent of food industrialization and mass production has significantly altered the general perspective on decoration (I will discuss this in the next section). The democratization of ornamentation has led to its depreciation, diminishing its inherent value. This transformation has been further influenced both by nutritional science and critiques of ornamentation from rationalist and minimalist movements in various major art forms, with a notable example in architecture being Adolf Loos ([1908] 1981).

This critique has become so influential that it inhibits any relationship with decoration that is not ironic or deliberately detached. Traditional festive sweets characterized by their opulent visual presentation and the ornate decorations reminiscent of baroque and rococo styles on certain pastries are frequently criticized as kitschy remnants of outdated religious norms and ancient myths. This tendency to purposely distance oneself from what seems absurd or incompatible with the present world order, originating from a sort of frivolous extravagance, disregards the reality that decoration serves as a nuanced and complex language that holds universal understanding. The emphasis on ornamentation in many ceremonial confections—the wedding cake above all—reflects various metaphorical meanings, associating this practice with the human need to embellish both their environment and themselves. Through this language, confectionery has effectively conveyed a multitude of meanings across different historical periods and places. On the one hand, the extravagance of decoration might be associated with a sense of non-essentiality, while on the other hand, this “lavishness” serves as a layering of meanings, symbolized by various decorative components that unveil the deep intensity that can arise from our connection with what we eat.

3.6. Technicality

Continuing along this line of thought, another objection emerges: the perceived lack of technical complexity in food making, which in turn relates to its everyday and repetitive nature. It appears that the necessity for daily repetition does not inherently favor technical expertise; instead, it predisposes food making toward ease of execution. As we later delve into the realm of cake design, we will observe that the 20th century witnessed a significant shift in the concept of seriality and reproducibility, impacting both the arts and culinary creations. To some extent, this shift also altered the perception of reproducibility in both fields.

Perullo’s response to this objection stands out as particularly compelling. He suggested shifting the focus from food as a static object to the process of its creation, aligning with the concept of an art that permeates everyday existence (Perullo 2017). This perspective underscores the notion that culinary skills encompass not just technical ability, but also sensitivity and passion. In our specific case, the issue becomes more straightforward, yet concurrently intricate. The exceptional context in which a dessert is contemplated or consumed, always beyond routine, even within the framework of a meal, sets it apart from the realm of repetition and the mundane. Coupled with this is the extreme intricacy of execution and the peculiar technical skill that confectionery has consistently demanded.

In line with this perspective, the very role of the executor can also be questioned: what type of authorship is implicated in the creative but technical process of the chef-artist? Despite the legal battles in which a few chefs have been engaged, attempts to attribute copyright and intellectual property rights to specific recipes and culinary creations have generally failed. This is partially due to the challenge of discerning the author’s creative contribution within the formulation and reproduction of a dish. The few exceptions are to be found rightly in the world of confectionery, where the emphasis on the visual aspect and technical precision takes on greater importance. Rather than direct copyrights, a range of registered trademarks and patents have emerged—such as those for the Sachertorte2 or the Italian Setteveli cake—that grant exclusive rights to the use of a particular name and validate the originality of the invention. The fusion of an edible creation with an autographic work of art establishes its exclusivity.

A correlated and not marginal—although often stereotyped—aspect pertains to the relationship between pastry making and the precision of combinatory rules for its realization, often adhering to mathematical proportions. Pastry téchne in Europe reached its zenith during the transition from confiserie to pâtisserie, a transformation largely advanced by Carême. In his elaborate pièce montées, he amalgamated a diverse range of knowledge, technical skills across various artistic domains, and a consideration for the function fulfilled by these edible sculptures. His craft beckons us to explore the distinctive evolution of confectionery within the context of the “major arts”. Hence, another possible approach to address the question of its artistic nature is not just to explore the reasons why confectionery as a culinary field could be considered artistic—as I have done thus far—but rather to draw comparisons with some of the most highly regarded fine arts. By undertaking an exploration of pastry through a comparative lens, my intent is to enrich its conceptualization as an edible artistic expression.

4. What Genre of Art Does Pastry Belong?

Up to this point, my exploration has aimed to determine whether pastry provides better responses to objections against the artistic quality of food, as well as to identify any unique objections specific to pastry and their potential solutions. To delve deeper into the distinctiveness of this culinary art form, I now take an alternative approach. It can be viewed as a sort of enhancement of pastry, which separates it from the limited realm of the edible and positions it within the broader sphere of what is commonly defined as art.

Barbara Wheaton highlighted that «In the eighteenth century, the confectioner in particular drew on the rococo decorative vocabulary of the landscape architect, the porcelain modeler, and the designer of interiors» (Wheaton [1983] 2011, p. 445). Indeed, the history of pastry is closely intertwined with that of several major arts, particularly sculpture and architecture, evolving in parallel with these artistic spheres. In this section, I will illustrate its development concerning these two domains by exploring sugar sculptures (Section 4.1) and the pièce montée tradition of European banquets since the 15th century (Section 4.2). Furthermore, I will emphasize the 20th century evolution of architectural cakes into cake design (Section 4.3). Lastly, I will delve into a distinct case, Japanese wagashi sweets, to reflect on the interplay between pastry and performing arts (Section 4.4).

4.1. Sugar Sculptures

The legacy of sugar sculptures for banquets and feasts traces back to Arabic origins and gained particular importance in 17th century Europe, symbolizing a history steeped in symbolism. Originally, these sculptures were exhibited and consumed exclusively by specific social classes during special occasions, serving as instruments for displaying status and enhancing one’s social standing. Initially encompassing beautiful figures designed from sugar or marzipan, these sculptures eventually evolved into vehicles for political references, religious symbols, and emblems of richness. Through these sculptures, an array of depictions emerged—from mythological beings and saints to historical figures, manifold animals (including fantastical ones), and building structures of various scales. Subtleties provided interludes for contemplation and, in some instances, remained purely ornamental centerpieces, even if actually edible. In Renaissance Italy, they were referred to as “triumphs” (trionfi), recalling the victory of sophisticated Romans over their barbaric enemies. At noble courts, the splendid sugary choreography served as strategic demonstrations of strength, and guests validated the underlying messages of these creations through both observation and only occasional consumption. State processions, anniversaries, and significant moments required grand displays that could subsequently be recounted and disseminated across other European courts. Within banquets, sugar sculptures transformed into a form of “exhibition food”, primarily serving to give prestige and enhance the social status of the event rather than purely for gustatory pleasure (de Garine 1976, p. 150). Each course of these theatrical banquets was laden with sweets and symbols, representing heraldic celebrations of illustrious families, the manifestation of the host’s authority, expression of their capabilities, or clear indications of their generosity.

The 16th and 17th centuries marked the pinnacle of sugar statuary at banquets (Di Schino 2013). Following a stylistic evolution with a delay of a few centuries, these works mirrored classical sculpture, embodying one of the most versatile forms of sweet transformation into art during feasts. These sculptures often originated from models crafted in materials like marble or wood. They might be considered collaborative efforts between various artisans, ranging from cooks to pastry chefs, while also enlisting the skills of carvers, miniaturists, goldsmiths, and sculptors. Concerning the primary materials, bakery products are the most prevalent pliable substances employed. This choice is attributed to their key ingredients: flour, honey, sugar, and marzipan (made of sugar and almonds or bitter almonds). Despite the technical challenges they present, these materials provide opportunities for innovation and virtuosity unattainable with any other edible medium. Sugar began to replace honey, particularly from the 16th century onward, assuming a series of roles. Initially, it was employed to preserve fruit—the first known recipe book for jam and candying was attributed to Michiel de Nostradamus in 1554 (Di Schino 2015, p. 17). It then evolved into a spice for sweetening and harmonizing a diverse typology of dishes. Eventually, it assumed a central role in crafting decorations, ornaments, and centerpiece constructions. In the context of banquets, sugar’s ornamental and decorative function took on various facets: it was utilized to provide structural support at the center of the feast; to impart flavor and sweetness to numerous edibles and beverages; to cover other foods with an outer glaze that often transformed their appearance and, in part, their taste; and even to serve as a vessel for presenting food on the table, adopting many different design forms. Sugar was used to conceal and deceive. This concept of disguise aligned with the intrinsic nature of baroque art, and sugar sculptures ultimately epitomize the ephemeral essence emblematic of this style. This connection is evident not only due to the simultaneous development of both sugar sculptures and baroque art but also because of their shared procedural attributes. Confectionery, from multiple perspectives, exhibits pronounced baroque traits. This is evident in the opulent and extravagant decorations, characterized by the accentuation of contrasting shapes and colors, as well as in the emotions stirred by sugar triumphs. These creations occasionally conveyed allegorical messages and positive emotions, while at other times, they incorporated elements of grotesque humor. Additionally, the quintessential baroque horror vacui became a defining attribute of the rich and elaborate sculptural-architectural banquets originating from the Renaissance.

A significative example of the interplay between confectionery and baroque statuary was offered by an art historian, Ewa Kociszewska (2020). She presented a fascinating perspective regarding an installation of sweet sculptures, numbering over a hundred, created to welcome King Henry III of France to Venice in July 1574. Building upon Jennifer Montagu’s thesis (Montagu 1989, p. 197), Kociszewska proposed considering these sculptures not solely as examples of artful gastronomy but as reflections of baroque sculpture’s historical narrative. These sugary statues, meticulously crafted from the finest white sugar, bore such a resemblance to alabaster sculptures that the similarity was astonishing. These creations were showcased in both Doge’s Palace and Grimani’s one in Venice. They served not only as decorative elements but also as potential gifts for ambassadors and esteemed guests. King Henry III purchased thirty-nine of them to bring back to France. However, their inherent fragility rendered them unsuitable for consumption or physical contact. Instead, their purpose was to compose a sort of sugary landscape, creating an artistic backdrop around which many women—there to address other desires of the King—were asked to stand (Kociszewska 2020). The distinctive nature of these sugar sculptures underscored their remarkable paradox. On one hand, they evoked a desire both to touch and taste, yet on the other hand, they denied immediate interaction to those who could merely admire them. Unlike marble statues that allure the hand and eye, sugar sculptures also invoke the sense of taste, while withholding the tangible experience. In a similar vein, Douglas correlated the smooth appearance and soft texture with ceremonial cakes, which directly originated from these sugar creations (Douglas [1982] 2011, p. 111). These sculptures epitomize what can be described as a visual, tactile, and edible artistic creation.

4.2. Architectural Pièce Montée

When considering the proximity between confectionery and architecture, the references become even more explicit, as sugar sculptures—particularly the renowned pièce montées—frequently depicted buildings and architectural structures. Commencing with the famous statement attributed to Carême:

The Fine Arts are five in number: Painting, Music, Sculpture, Poetry, and Architecture—whereof the principal branch is confectionary.

(quoted from Fisher 1976, p. 94)

Carême’s assertion was not a sweeping declaration that all food can be considered art; instead, he specifically argued that confectionery is one of the primary domains where architecture should be recognized as a “fine art”. This distinction underscores the unique and elevated status he assigned to this practice (Kuehn 2012, p. 87).

Particularly flourishing in the Italian and French courts where it took root, the art of pastry making shares a profound alignment with architecture. This is evident in its three-dimensionality and meticulous attention to visual appearance. Architecture and pastry both dwell in a state of liminality, occupying the intersection between construction and art, as well as between culinary reasoning and artistic expression. Much like architecture, confectionery fosters contemplation together with practical utility. Akin to architecture, pastry craftsmanship involves creating objects rooted in the concept of robust structures that can both contain and sustain. Once more, it is Carême who epitomizes this connection. The renowned pastry chef translated Palladio’s architectural drawings into sugar and marzipan, drawing inspiration from the five architectural orders established by Jacopo Barozzi da Vignola. His expansive designs, documented and illustrated in a book titled Le Pâtissier pittoresque (Carême [1815] 2016a), have garnered more attention from landscape architects and interior designers than from food historians (Hayden 1996). In fact, the recipes for his elaborate pièce montées are accompanied by meticulous drawings of grand buildings. His sugar creations, shaped as pavilions, temples, towers, fortresses, mills, shrines, and ruins, span an array of diverse styles, including Italian, Turkish, Muslim, Russian, Polish, Venetian, Chinese, and Egyptian. To aid pastry chefs with these ambitious projects, Carême provided architectural details alongside the illustrations, categorizing the buildings into distinct historical periods while weaving together styles in his very unique manner.

In a captivating lecture held at Harvard University in 2012, the esteemed Parisian pastry chef Pierre Hermé engaged in a fruitful discussion with designer Savinien Caracostea and architectural theorist Sanford Kwinter, exploring the intricate connections between the realms of pastry and architecture, as well as the myriad references that bind them together (Hermé 2012). The association between architecture and confectionery is also intriguing because it is bidirectional. For instance, the designs of modern confectioners, ranging from Carême’s syncretism to the pyramid structures of late bourgeois desserts, like the renowned Croquembouche—the first recipe for which is actually to be found in Carême’s ([1815] 2016b) Le pâtissier royal parisien and which can be seen as a continuation of his pièce montées—serve as markers for discussions around ornamentation and the social status of clients in architecture (Haldane 2015). Resembling a cake or drawing inspiration from confectionery creations for new architectural styles—an approach attributed to what Salvador Dalí termed the “modern style” of architecture (Dalí 1998)—underscores both embellishment for its own sake, which can be criticized in both fields, as well as functional edibility and desirability. This comparison renews the tension between consumption and contemplation typical of sweet creations.

Lastly, it is worth noting that the practice of architects constructing building models finds an analogy in confectionery, as the familiarity of confectioners with the principles of statics reveals an engineering-oriented attitude rather than a purely creative one. This inclination persists today, given the significance of design and calculation within artisan confectionery workshops. Hence, the evolution of architectural desserts is certainly so-called “cake design”.

In order to understand this evolution, we shall briefly examine another segment of the historical progression in the development of European pastry. Following the decline of the baroque banquet period, a gradual shift occurred within bourgeois kitchens. Toward the end of the 18th century, a paradigmatic transformation occurred in which sugar compositions were supplanted by the actual foods they represented. Sugar sculptures were gradually replaced by alternative, non-edible materials like marble, paper, and clay for reasons of preservation and hygiene (Tebben 2015, p. 16). Economic considerations played a significant role too, as sugar ceased to be a luxury and desserts, like other foods, succumbed to repeatability. While it is not feasible to deepen the discussion on this topic here, it is crucial to acknowledge the distinct historical trajectory of sugar when discussing confectionery. Sugar evolved from being a luxury item to an everyday staple, and this transformation is intimately connected to the history of colonialism and slavery. While retaining its prestige as a luxury food, sugar emerged as a commodity of paramount importance in the context of emerging capitalism. It resulted from the intricate relationship between Europe and its colonies and played a pivotal role in the industrial revolution and transformation of production systems (Mintz 1986; Abbott 2008; Walvin 2017). Its subsequent price reduction allowed desserts to be codified in recipes disseminated beyond artisanal workshops. With the decline of aristocratic banquet practices, the bourgeoisie sought to codify sweet creations, yet attributing to them a mythological history. Cakes in particular took on narratives and legends, much like the sugary triumphs, but through stories and standardized recipes (Tebben 2015, p. 21). Iconic cakes that emerged during this period, such as Saint-Honoré, Croquembouche, or Tarte Tatin, gained prominence due to their myths and stories. This was particularly notable in France, where cuisine played a role in reinforcing national identity. Even though replicable, these cakes stood as symbols of specific celebratory moments or feelings. Thanks to intriguing genealogies and legends, these recipes spread extensively and came to be emblematic of a new approach to pâtisserie.

4.3. Cake Design

The food industry played the leading role in dismantling any lingering hint of artistic aura associated with desserts during the European bourgeois era. The transition from elaborate sculptural-architectural creations to design objects marked a significant turning point in the comparison of confectionery with the broad artistic domain. One could argue that a similar transformation is occurring in the culinary world as in the art world, with the emergence of photography and design. Pastry also underwent this transformation from being a singular piece to becoming a replicable object in both professional and domestic contexts. This shift also involved a geographical transition, from Europe to the United States. As a result, public banquets made way for the homemade cakes of the 20th century.

Following the Great Depression and World War II, the 1950s in the United States witnessed the triumph of the domestic economy. This period saw everyday life become influenced by media advertisements and supermarket sales. Defined as “decorative”, the new cuisine aimed to bridge the gap between figurative arts and science applied to industrial food. In the late 1940s, cake mixes entered the market. These convenient boxes contained all the necessary ingredients to make a cake, including powdered eggs, requiring only the addition of water and sometimes a vegetable fat. This innovation, known as the “double-quick method”, was invented for a Chiffon Cake by a Hollywood bakery supply manager and sold to General Mills in 1943 for USD 5000 (Marling 1994, p. 226). During the 1950s, the food industry achieved significant success with the introduction of the layered, frosted, and pre-packaged cake. Through a clever illusion that suggested complexity and a need for inventiveness, advertisements encouraged consumers to view their cake mixes not as the final step but as a starting point in their baking processes. The emphasis was placed on customizing the final appearance, making decoration and ornamentation a “unique act” in the cake assembly procedure.

We can take cues from Walter Benjamin’s inquiry of the work of art in the age of its technical reproducibility (Benjamin [1935] 2008). The industrialization facilitated by media and advertising treated the homemade cake as both a reproduction of the identical and a seemingly durable object. Seen as a product of individual and original creation, the “cake”, like a real work of art, overlooks inherent errors that are characteristic of artisanship. Simultaneously, as an industrial product, the cake aspires to be untouched by the influence of both human gestures and the passage of time. In forsaking the qualities that could render it an artisanal artifact, it becomes a production of artistic instinct, paradoxically emblematic of both individual design and reproducibility. In this regard, cake design does not elevate uncodified domesticity into art, but rather reshapes cakes as reproducible art-like forms (Perullo 2017). Simultaneously, the success of cake mixes aimed to simplify a practice that was seamlessly integrated into the multitude of everyday domestic tasks. A crucial aspect here is time: for the first time, the correlation between execution speed and the final outcome—both in terms of appearance and taste—became directly proportional. Moreover, the advent of new media, ranging from photographic recipe books to television, presented an idealized concept of cake that serves as a continual point of reference. This ideal, by encouraging strict replication, to some extent relieved individuals of the burden of success. Variables that were once unpredictable, like room humidity, seasonal changes, so much as the maker’s mood, were no longer influential. Television played a central role in convincing Americans that the essence of baking resided in achieving visually triumphant results rather than emphasizing the substantial effort of creating something flavorful or engaging authentically with ingredients (Shapiro 2005, p. 36). In the realm of the food industry, confectionery’s vulnerable and mutable nature was exploited, mirroring the contemporary zeitgeist and evolving relationship with the arts in the domain of overelaborately decorated cakes.

Moreover, the ideal reproduction of cakes corresponds to the definition of women, particularly housewives. Throughout history, pastry has been closely tied to women’s practices. This connection goes beyond the relationship between sweetness and the female body and extends to associations with materiality, the womb, birth, death, and the marginalized role of both (see Counihan and Kaplan 1998; Korsmeyer 2004). In its modern, homemade form, cake has long been predominantly associated with femininity, a type of food that serves to enhance the “feminine quality” of a meal, as it adds ornamentation and “cosmeticizes” the meal. Moreover, in the mid-20th century, cake became a symbol of women’s responsibilities toward their husbands and children. The cake industry of the 1950s played on the ambiguous role of housewives. The automation of tasks promoted by cake mixes aimed to industrialize domestic work, turning everyday practices into the production of consumer goods (see Parkin 2006; Shapiro 2008).

The interplay between art’s reproducibility and the food industry also extends to the realm of practice. We recall the objections raised towards cooking as art due to its perceived technical poverty. Benjamin suggested that technique across various domains leads everyone to become «quasi-expert» (Benjamin [1935] 2008, p. 33). With the combination of industrial food and the new media, enthusiasts and amateurs alike perceived themselves as specialists, gaining technical proficiency through cake mixes to create multilayered architectural cakes that were once the exclusive domain of professionals and skilled artisans. As mentioned earlier, one potential solution lies in a reevaluation of cake making from a process-oriented perspective (Perullo 2017). For a meaningful comparison with artistic reproducibility, it appears crucial to distinguish between the cake object as a material creation and the act of cake making performed in the kitchen. If the latter is to be interpreted as an aesthetic experience (Saito 2017), questions arise about whether aesthetic expression can emerge from the factual practice of “building” designed cakes. Can aesthetic value be preserved in a predominantly passive process guided by instructions from a cake mix box? Additionally, can the awareness and attention to gestures in the act of (re)creating pre-packaged cakes be upheld? Notably, the comprehensive instructions prescribed by cake mixes often appear to fall short in stimulating the imagination required for the cake to evolve into something original rather than a mechanical replica.

4.4. Performance and Wagashi

Lastly, pastry also establishes an explicit connection to the realm of performing arts. Its significance changes with shifts in context and circumstances. While its performative attributes are encapsulated in grand spectacles during European modern banquets, as the edible counterpart to theatrical and music shows, its role within a different type of ceremony presents its performative characteristics from an alternative perspective. In this regard, the role and symbolism of Japanese confectioneries, known as wagashi, prove particularly intriguing. They shed light on an aspect previously unexplored within the broader realm of food’s potential to be integrated into an artistic process, not merely as an object but as an active participant.

Japan’s relationship with confectionery carries a profound yet mostly overlooked nature. In Japan, the term for all kinds of sweets, “kashi”, originally referred to fresh and dried fruits. When sugar first made its way to Japan from China, it was believed to possess medicinal properties, making it a valuable commodity. Imports of sugar increased from the 16th century through trade with the Netherlands, even though it was not yet widely used in cooking. For many years, sugar remained a luxury food for most Japanese. Actual production of sugar within Japan began in the 17th century, during the Edo period, a time of peace and prosperity when tea drinking became a common practice among the upper classes (Ishige 2014, pp. 258–59). As trade between China and Japan grew, sugar took on the role of a staple household ingredient, propelling the production of wagashi. Their creation was intricately linked with practice of the tea ceremony (cha-no-yu), a tradition primarily disseminated through Zen temples and notably advanced by the efforts of Master Sen no Rikyū (1522–1591). Rikyū, in elevating chadô—the “way of tea”—to wabicha aesthetics, bestowed a profound philosophical meaning upon this ceremony. The cha-no-yu typically takes place in a designated room, purposefully arranged to create a distinct atmosphere that sets it apart from daily life (see Varley and Kumakura 1995). Tea is enjoyed with wagashi due to its robust flavor and the refreshing contrast it offers when paired with something sweet. The phrase o-cha-uke, meaning “to receive tea”, originally signified the act of extracting the tea’s flavor thanks to a sweet treat (Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan 2014, p. 28). Simultaneously, these confections serve to harmonize the robustly astringent taste of matcha.

Yet, what makes wagashi particular interesting within the scope of our discourse is the fact that they are uniquely embedded in what is to all intents and purposes a performance,3 seamlessly melting art and spirituality and encompassing no fewer than «17 different arts» (Singer 1998, p. 61; see Wilson 2018). The tea ceremony is a unique performance that aligns with daily life’s rhythm, offering a non-Western perspective on art integrated into the aesthetics of everyday existence. During cha-no-yu, every gesture is calculated with extreme care and precision, «culminating in a transcendental blend of movement, refined food and drink and enlightened dialogue» (Singer 1998, p. 60). Wagashi play a key role in this context, required to simultaneously captivate the guests’ senses and serve as a representation of the host’s intended values and feelings (He 2018, p. 19). The philosopher Daisetz T. Suzuki defined the essence of the tea ceremony as «the aesthetics of primitive simplicity» (Suzuki [1938] 2018, p. 271), a simplicity meticulously orchestrated with no space for chance or error. Here, the aim of faithfully emulating nature’s essence must be artistically pursued with manic zeal, simultaneously reflecting the master/performer’s personality (Suzuki [1938] 2018, p. 274). Furthermore, the performative nature of the tea ceremony is underscored by its intrinsic temporal dimension, as outlined by Yuriko Saito (Saito 2007a, 2007b). In her view, the tea ceremony shares this specific temporality with other kinds of experiences, such as the Japanese practice of food serving and the aesthetics of the garden. Rather than being static objects subject to an event, the elements of the ceremony, as well as those of the garden or meal, possess a temporal quality that contributes to the sense of aesthetics, with the reception time of the participants playing a pivotal role. The author stated: «Although material objects, whether garden, food, or packaging, are spatial entities, our experience of them necessarily takes time. Their spatial arrangements and composition affect, or even dictate, the sequential order in which our experience unfolds» (Saito 2007b, p. 90).

This ceremonial event also emphasizes the act of sharing, where giving and receiving take center stage (Ishige 2014, p. 264). This is why confections play a significant role. Unlike other kinds of food, they are specifically created for sharing with others, as they represent a unique category of food beyond nourishment, carrying symbolic meaning and reflecting a genuine care for others. As a result, their value is closely tied to the participant’s recognition and appreciation during the ceremony (Morisaki and Suda 2016, p. 8). For this reason, wagashi are marked by delicate and subtle flavors, often aligned with the current season, as well as with the color of the walls and the meticulously chosen tools for tea preparation. Their making significantly differs from that of so-called yôgashi (Western sweets containing fat and dairy products, mainly introduced in Japan from the 19th century), as wagashi are predominantly steamed and frequently only made from rice and a few other vegetable ingredients. Wagashi engage multiple senses, encompassing taste, visual appeal, and texture. Defined as «edible art» (Keiko 2001, p. 64), they exploit the symbolic potential of their ingredients, which allow virtuosity in shapes and colors. Their texture is peculiar too, being softer and thinner, optimized for enhancing the matcha flavor during the ceremony. They must possess a balance of firmness for easy cutting, softness for being divided into pieces, and chewiness for subtle bites. Furthermore, an emotional dimension constitutes an integral component of this aesthetic-cognitive experience; the significance of confections extends beyond the mere conveyance of values to give shape to emotions. The case of wagashi within the tea ceremony is emblematic of the meaningful expressive quality of confectionery. They evoke imaginative responses tied to their names, often associated with natural scenes or seasons, such as those called cherry blossoms, hydrangeas, or maple leaves. On occasion, their symbolism is only comprehensible within the context of the specific ceremony or the name linked to them, thereby transcending their visual appearance, which can often be considerably abstract (Keiko 2001).

The delicately orchestrated setting of these sweet creations offers an aesthetic experience. This experience is capable of entrancing the participant through contemplation, which transitions into active participation. The celebration of a ritual through the tea ceremony creates an all-encompassing participatory experience, imbued with an atmospheric quality that extends beyond these miniature sweet sculptures to actively engage those who taste them. The tea ceremony can be considered as a distinctive manifestation within the realm of performances, where the intricate interplay between consumption and contemplation emerges as a typical consequence of pastry’s liminality.

5. Discussion

Across its rich and varied history, confectionery has straddled the threshold between immediate consumption and the contemplative essence often associated with the perception of artworks. As I have attempted to delineate in the third section, pastry presents a rather unique perspective within the intricate interplay of culinary practices and the realm of art. By positioning itself at the intersection of these historically distinct realms, rather than keeping them rigidly apart, pastry manages to transform this margin into a territory of interpenetration, where the boundaries between contemplation and consumption, or aesthetic pleasure and gustatory enjoyment become blurred.

Moreover, pastry, in its own right, can be regarded as a form of artistic expression, as I outlined in the fourth section. Throughout its evolution, pastry has established specific connections with various major arts. It can be likened to sculpture when we consider creations made from sugar or marzipan. Carême’s monumental constructions, as well as certain bourgeois pastry recipes, exhibited architectural and structural qualities. The rise of the food industry and the emergence of cake design have enabled its technical reproducibility. An in-depth exploration of wagashi, linked to significant events like the tea ceremony and rooted in a non-Western-centered conception of art, reveals its potential performative aspects.

The endeavor to ennoble confectioneries to the status of artistic objects has indeed highlighted pastry’s historical progression and translated its artistic potential within the conventional aesthetic sphere. Yet, to some extent, this process has partially neglected the array of meanings and possibilities stemming from its uses, which can authentically be seen as aesthetic processes. Rather than solely comparing it to visual arts, it is worthwhile to explore some of the functions of sweets—of caring, symbolizing, and expressing—in various contexts. This aspect, evident in the ceremonial roles of sweets, is especially prominent in the Japanese tea ceremony. In this context, confectionery plays an active role within a performance where the spectator does not simply contemplate but actively participates in the experience. Here, art is manifested through an everyday process rather than as a passive object of appreciation (see Boisvert 2014, pp. 80–82). Following Dewey’s aesthetics, the consideration of these processes in ongoing continuity with practices conventionally labeled as artistic highlights the power of aesthetics to shape ordinary life, even if accompanied by potential challenges and limitations.

Therefore, addressing art within pastry requires not only contextualizing practices and contexts, along with the distinctive position of the edible domain, but also—as I intend to sketch in this final part—broadening and redefining the concept of art itself, encompassing practices and processes that share many of its characteristics.

The philosopher Larry Shiner uncovered three common misconceptions about the artistic domain, which help to transcend the narrow and modern interpretation often applied to it. The first assumes that artists are free creators detached from constraints; the second wrongly presumes that creativity primarily emanates from and is learned through artists; and the third postulates creativity as solely innovation or originality (Shiner 2012). Some philosophers within the current of everyday aesthetics, including Naukkarinen, Saito, and Shiner himself, proposed reevaluating the ontological status of art based on these assumptions. Rather than making an axiological distinction between art and non-art, the focus shifts to differentiating between traditional canonical art and what could be termed “art-like”—practices inspired by, connected to, or moving within the artistic sphere. Yuriko Saito, who, more than others, emphasized the transformation of art within a new aesthetic paradigm, underscored both the promise and perils of such an approach. On the one hand, it calls for avoiding indiscriminate definitions, while on the other hand, it urges the recognition of practices not traditionally seen as art as having inherent aesthetic value (Saito 2012, 2022). The challenge arises when attempting to elevate commonplace practices to the artistic level, inadvertently imposing an ontological typification of art and ascribing it distinct traits and features (Matteucci 2019, pp. 64–65; Perullo 2017).

On the contrary, the core of everyday aesthetics resides in its potential to revive a pre-modern and non-Western-centric aesthetic viewpoint. This perspective recognizes aesthetic practices as integral to everyday life rather than exceptional events confined to specific settings. In this context, the connection with food also becomes significant. The Deweyan perspective embraced by everyday aesthetics situates aesthetics within the core of an experience, avoiding confinement to specific object categories. This perspective offers an essential approach for exploring various facets of aesthetic experiences without predefined boundaries (Saito 2023). In the context of pastry, adopting this strategy involves viewing it as a process rather than merely a collection of various food items. I believe this perspective allows us to recognize that the acts of making, contemplating, and savoring sweets can constitute meaningful expressive processes, even within the sphere of more conventional art. Nonetheless, this remains a theoretical hypothesis that needs further and thorough examination, because, as I have observed, it could potentially encounter several objections and challenges.