 Collingwood advances a very liberal notion of representation, such that a great deal more artefacts than one would initially think could rightly qualify as representative. For the standard for fidelity is not resemblance, but that the feeling evoked by the artefact resembles that evoked by the original. Representation comes in three, overlapping degrees. The first is that of the ordinary photograph, or paintings and the like which attempt that sort of literalness. The second is that whereby the painter – he mentions van Gogh – ‘leaves out some things that he sees, modifies others, and introduces some which he not does see in his sitter at all’ (53–4). At the extreme, he may paint mere patterns, for example, of a dance, leaving out the dancers. The third is ‘emotional representation’, which represents the inner aspect of emotion, but which is nevertheless distinct from expression. Some types of music, on this view, represent the mind undergoing its experiences, such the feeling of ‘lying in deep grass on a summer’s day watching clouds drift across the sky’ (56). Collingwood does not say what the exact difference is between representation and expression, but I assume that it depends first of all on whether or not the artist has a clear conception of what he is trying to represent; if he does, then his activity is craft, not art proper. As we will see below, this is not implausible because the artist, at least according to Collingwood, does not literally know the expressive content of his artwork in advance of expressing it. It would be in keeping with Collingwood’s approach to add that the expressed content is individual, whereas represented contents are always general; perceptually quite different works can represent exactly the same thing.