Symposium on Art, Aesthetics and International Justice: Themis’ Blindfold Removed

[Katerina Borrelli is a Researcher and Incoming PhD Candidate in Law at the European University Institute, Florence]

Over the past two decades we have witnessed an ever-growing attention to law as an aesthetic phenomenon — an emerging trend in socio-legal studies and law-and-humanities scholarship. (e.g. Gearey; Machado). Marina Aksenova’s Art, Aesthetics and International Justice is firmly situated within this emerging current, arguing for the critical relevance of aesthetic theory to contemporary international justice. 

Rather than positioning itself as another account of the relationship between art and justice — whether through the analysis of material artifacts within the legal arena (from courtroom architecture to judges’ gowns and wigs) or the rhetorical construction of judgments and legal texts— (e.g. Aalberts and Stolk; Watt; Gearey) this book embraces the ambitious task of offering a new aesthetics-rooted methodology through which international justice can be reimagined to confront emerging challenges and give rise to a redefined, future-oriented Justice 2.0.

The originality of the book lies precisely in its effort to develop a methodology for the analysis of justice through aesthetic experience, where aesthetics is not understood as a tool or as an attribute of the final product of justice, but as a mode of perceiving. In fact, the ultimate goal of the book is to offer a new way to understand international justice.

While the complexity and richness of this work make it difficult to summarize it briefly, I will attempt to do so before offering some personal reflections.

Exquisitely well written and exhaustively researched, Aksenova’s book orbits around the two elements that aesthetic theories have in common: namely, the nature of perception and its quality of universality. The thesis of the book is that through these two concepts, art, aesthetics and creativity allow law’s active participants and outside witnesses to acquire a neutral observer stance and adopt a common direction under the aegis of universality. 

According to Aksenova, incorporating art and aesthetics into international justice not only reinforces its authority, but also aligns with a broader aesthetic shift driven by the rise of visual communication across all areas of human activity. Together, these developments pave the way for Justice 2.0.

In an all-encompassing effort, the structure of the book takes the reader through different philosophical, aesthetic, sociological, and linguistic theories—from Kant to Abhinavagupta, from Adorno to Durkheim—and applies them to various elements of global justice: from its foundations of authority, to its diverse material forms of expression (judgments, reparation orders, treaties), to its mechanisms of redress through symbolic reparations, and finally to the legal process itself. The book culminates in a case study demonstrating the application of an aesthetic-based method to the concept of citizenship.

The book is a remarkable achievement—its intellectual depth and the breadth of research ought to be celebrated, for they offer a rich and thought-provoking reading experience. Some of the book’s premises, along with aspects of its ambitious aim, however, left me with a few open questions and points for further reflection.

First, while the argument is compelling and intellectually stimulating, it appears to lean predominantly toward a singular, affirmative view of aesthetics. One of the book’s core propositions is that fragmentation—identified as a key weakness of international justice—can be addressed through creative contemplation, which is presented as a mirror of universality (15). The text asserts that “the ability to perceive (beauty) is truly universal” (16), and while this is a powerful and evocative claim, it raises critical questions regarding how—and to what extent—beauty is accommodated within the practice of international justice.

While in theory we can agree that some founding principles of international justice, among which we can count order and equity, are inherently beautiful, in practice international justice stems from the need to respond to violence, exploitation, and structural harm – harnessing evil. In this sense, it may be argued that international justice is more frequently shaped by forces such as power, greed, and geopolitical interest than by a shared aesthetic ideal. Indeed, grave violations are often tolerated insofar as they preserve existing global power dynamics or align with dominant interests, particularly those of powerful states or corporate actors. Within this context, one might more accurately speak not of classical beauty but of the ‘aesthetics of the grotesque’. 

What I mean by this concept diverges slightly from Randle DeFalco’s notion of the “aesthetics of horrific spectacle”—which refers to how atrocities such as genocide and war crimes are framed within legal and media discourses as intuitively visible, emotionally charged spectacles that conform to an established visual grammar (De Falco). DeFalco’s critique lies in the harm such conventions inflict by limiting recognition of suffering to what is already culturally legible, often at the expense of less visually spectacular, but no less devastating, forms of harm.

By “aesthetics of the grotesque,” I refer to a space that lies between the well-established hideous identified by DeFalco and the counter-aesthetic traditions articulated by scholars like Knox and Schwöbel-Patel (De Falco; Schwöbel-Patel and Knox). These traditions encompass the unsettling visuality that emerge from racialized resistance, Indigenous decolonial thought, abolitionist feminism, Marxist critique, eco-socialism, and anti-imperialism. It is an aesthetic of horror and discomfort—one that foregrounds the visceral materiality of suffering, resistance, and structural injustice. What distinguishes this conception is not, as in Aksenova’s account, a unifying principle of perception or an appeal to aesthetic universality that overcomes fragmentation. Rather, the idea that justice, in its practical enactment, is often governed by the grotesque—by what is brutal on the one hand, and deliberately forgotten on the other. It demands not harmonious contemplation, but a confrontation with systemic ugliness.

It is important to acknowledge that Aksenova demonstrates a profound engagement with diverse aesthetic traditions, and in her literature review she carefully references critical approaches—including the works of De Falco and Schwöbel-Patel (Schwöbel-Patel; De Falco). However, while these perspectives are cited, they are not contested throughout the book. This is, of course, a reasonable limitation given the book’s scope, yet as a reader I found myself reflecting—especially in light of the book’s rich theoretical framework—on the brutal material realities that international justice should address, such as genocide, starvation, mass violence, environmental destruction and the struggles of the marginalized. These atrocities, which the international legal system is designed to respond to, but too often fails to do so, demand in my opinion not so much aesthetic contemplation but a counter-aesthetic confrontation. 

This concern also extends to the book’s discussion of the visual turn in international justice, which is acknowledged but not fully examined. Visuality today is far from neutral—it is deeply implicated in systems of power, surveillance, exclusion, and representation. This raises critical questions: How can we ensure that visuality does not become a tool of further marginalization? How can it be reimagined so as to empower rather than disenfranchise those most vulnerable? In an era where Themis may be said to have removed her blindfold, a more explicit reckoning with the politics of visibility—and the risks of aestheticizing injustice—seems urgent. While the book suggests that a position of neutrality and creative contemplation can at least partially address these concerns, I remain unconvinced of the magnitude that this approach may have to meet the weaknesses of international justice in practice.

Indeed, Aksenova makes a concrete effort to demonstrate how aesthetics can contribute to international justice in practice. She does this not only through the example of symbolic reparations but, more significantly, by applying an aesthetic methodology to the concept of citizenship. This approach unfolds through a tripartite model composed of three iterative phases: “observe → build → play” (156). In my opinion, it is particularly in the observation phase that the aesthetic lens may prove valuable, allowing for a critical and detached examination of deeply embedded legal constructs like citizenship. Through this lens, Aksenova exposes the underlying assumptions of territorial belonging and challenges the normative grip of nationality on access to human rights (161). However, while the case study on “transformative citizenship” (166) is compelling, it remains largely conceptual, as it lacks engagement with practical considerations such as feasibility, governance, and mechanisms of legal recognition or enforcement, to the extent that the author herself states that “Admittedly, the ideas of the planetary rule of law and cosmopolitanism are difficult to implement in practice, especially when it comes to re-thinking the openness of state borders. The purpose of this model is, however, not to replace conventional notions of nationality and citizenship but rather to explore the possibilities of different vocabularies and visions that would be complementary to the existing legal discourse.” (168).

In this sense, Aksenova’s methodology offers a significant contribution to expanding the theoretical boundaries of international justice. Yet it also raises an essential and unresolved question: how can such a theory be meaningfully translated into practice? In a legal world where aesthetics is inherently political (Schwöbel-Patel and Knox), there is a persistent risk that aesthetic tools—rather than enabling Justice 2.0 — could be co-opted to reinforce existing power structures. This tension between visionary theory and practical implementation marks a fertile ground for further exploration in Aksenova’s future work.