Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Art is Inherently Public

Being someone who was very involved with the arts as a teen (music primarily, but photography as well), I remain very interested in art (in the summer after my freshman year I actually switched my college major to photography but switched again to biology before the semester started) and I like to ponder how the big questions of life intersect with the world of the arts. Art and philosophy seem to have a certain natural affinity with each other. (Aesthetics is considered a branch of philosophy.)

Here is a statement that I would claim is true about any form of art, if it is truly to serve as art: art is inherently public.

This statement probably either strikes you as obvious, or, you wonder what I mean.

Simply, I mean that art is created for the sake of being seen (or heard) by someone. The finished creation exists 'for' a public other--someone other than the artist himself.

Who has heard of a composer who writes music never intending any of it to be heard only so that he can play it to himself in his own mind? I am referring in this post to a person who has a vocation to be an artist, who understands art to be his (or her) primary work in life. Sure, an amateur may create something as a hobby or simply for his own enjoyment never intending it to be seen by others. But I am speaking here about the artist who works as a professional. Or, at least, someone who has genuine gifts of artistic talent which he develops seriously whether or not it becomes his main source of income.

My reason for stating that art is inherently public and what I mean by this is primarily to get to this: there are significant consequences for the process of artistic creativity that follow upon the fact that it is in the nature of art to be created for others--for a public to see/hear.

What are these consequences? There are probably several, but I would like to try to shed some light on at least one. The process of creating a work of art is both highly personal (in a way very particular to the individual artist), and, generous. Generous meaning selfless, humble before and deliberately mindful of the multifarious realities of the artist's (and his intended audience's) own culture, time, and place. Both he and his audience approach any work of art with a background. The artist and his society have a history with artworks of the past and communicate within a certain culturally influenced context of signs and symbols. There is a base of literary, historical, and traditional influences that significantly form the mental and spiritual world of the communities of which the artist is a part. If his art is to have enduring power and meaning for anyone other than himself, the artist must keep in mind this background as he creates. He must care about the world of his audience. In this sense, the vocation of a good artist, while remaining very personal, requires a certain ability to step outside of self and take upon himself the eyes of his "people," whomever they may be.

Why do I write about this? Because I think that the art world, at least that of Western societies, has over the course of the last century or so lost sight of this. Artists, it seems, are encouraged (or, perhaps they do this on their own) to create art in a way that cares only for the self. Some art, at least, seems to have lost any regard for the audience. Some art seems to be an exercise in solipsism--totally and exclusively wrapped up in the interior world of the artist and thus highly self-indulgent. Art that is made in this solipsistic mode does not make the effort of being interested in the cultural context of the viewing public. It is analogous to the artist talking to himself in a mirror in his own unique language; there is an onlooker to the side (the audience), but the artist doesn't care for he is interested in talking only to himself. If others want to look on, fine, but he is not concerned for whether they gain anything by it. An artist with real talent who makes this mistake does great injustice to his calling as an artist.

Some art (music as well as the visual arts, theater and dance) made in the Western world of the last century or so has this unfortunate quality of being essentially an exercise in solipsism--of the artist interacting solely with himself. When this happens, I would claim, genuine art is not being made. Because, as I said above, I don't think art is truly art, and cannot serve the inherently public role of art, if it is not made with the common inner world of some public--of some community beyond the artist himself--in mind. The genius of a great artist is displayed, in part, in how he can creatively and generously weave the interior world of the public 'for whom' he creates together with his own unique inner world. In so doing, he can make art that communicates something meaningful to the public. He may thus produce something which endures, which might be accessible to the minds and souls not only of the people of his era, but for generations to come.

This is harder than simply "being true to oneself" (a euphemism for self-indulgence). Art is supposed to communicate something meaningful to other people. To do this, you have to have something in the medium of communication that the audience can understand on some level. In other words, in the history of art (until recent times, anyways), art has never been understood primarily as a means of self-therapy for the artist. It may be this secondarily--but not primarily.

I have hope that there is positive development on this front. But the development is slow.

I conclude with a quote from the 19th century English artist (and socialist!), William Morris, which captures the spirit of what I am getting at:

I do not believe in the possibility of keeping art vigorously alive by the action, however energetic, of a few groups of specially gifted men and their small circle of admirers amidst a general public incapable of understanding and enjoying their work. I hold firmly to the opinion that all worthy schools of art must be in the future, as they have been in the past, the outcome of the aspirations of the people towards the beauty and true pleasure of life.
[as quoted in, "When art Was by and for the people," by John Robson, 6/20/09, mercatornet.com]


[Thank you, Rachel! Our recent conversation inspired this post.]

Song of Songs, 5 [on spousal love]

[To see all of the earlier posts and this one gathered together in this my sporadic running commentary on the Song of Songs, look to the sidebar on the right under, "Labels," and click on Song of Songs.]

Chapter 1, vv 10-11

These two verses are couplets and are parallel to each other (they correspond in a parallel fashion; the first part of 10 to the first part of 11 and the second part of 10 to the second part of 11). The bridegroom is speaking. He notices the earrings and necklace on his beloved. But, he does not comment on their appearance; rather, he comments on the appearance of his bride's face and neck. The ornaments are subservient to what matters here--the physical appearance of his bride. It seems somewhat like the role of a proper frame around a great work of art. A well-chosen frame helps to present and enhance the artwork, but the beauty of the art does not come from the frame but from the painting itself. The frame merely assists in drawing the onlooker to the splendor of the artwork itself.

The bridegroom recognizing the beauty of his bride seems to be a public thing. In verse 11, the fact that he will have golden earrings and silver beads (for a necklace) made for her adds an exclamation point that he not only sees her as beautiful but sees her possessing a beauty that should be recognized by others. He not only wants to see her beauty but wants others to notice her beauty as well. Having his own party make ornaments for her acknowledges this; it is like framing a beautiful work of art for more proper recognition.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Mind of Man and the Mind of God--A Mysterious Harmony

The topic of how religious people view the interplay between human reason and the mind of God is very important. The way in which the Catholic tradition understands this is one of those things that make me especially grateful to be Catholic. It helps us to steer clear of the two extremes that are rationalism (putting all the weight upon human reason) and fideism (putting all the weight upon what comes to us by faith).

Faith and Reason Together. The most enduring and robust strands of Catholic theology have long grasped a vision of the human person which realizes that the sort of knowledge that comes to us by faith (i.e. by a supernatural self-communication of God to man) should always be received in the context of a human mind fully alive in every way--whose natural powers of reason are always striving to fire on all cylinders.

Thus, we should have no fear or hesitation of simultaneously and vigorously engaging a most devout and pious faith together with the most rigorous and probing rational thought processes! The book of nature and the book of Sacred Scripture come from the same divine source. Our faith, necessarily, brings our minds beyond where our reason alone could go. But, in so doing faith never violates our reason; indeed, faith, in turn, gives our reason more nourishment to feed upon as it turns back to the book of nature enriched with the truths of faith.

Reason by Itself Knows Traces of God in the World. After briefly mentioning faith and reason together, I would now like to narrow my focus just to natural human reason, exploring how natural reason on its own, considered apart from faith, is still involved with God (and this is so regardless of whether a particular person is aware that God is real).

The natural operation of human reason itself has a connection with the knowledge God has of Himself within the Trinity.

If I understand this properly, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, God knows us (in the deepest, most thorough sense of the Creator knowing his creatures) within the same act of knowledge that is His own knowledge of Himself. In other words, as His creatures, God's knowledge of us is contained inside His own self-Knowledge. (Important note: this does not in any way mean that human creatures are a part of God's own nature, which would blur the clear distinction between God and His creation; it has more to do with the fact that God's knowledge of His creation does not add anything new to the knowledge He had of Himself before creation)

Now, what about human nature and our own ability to reason aside from faith? The idea (still using St. Thomas) of 'Image' is very important here. We are "images" of God (Gen 1:26). More specifically, we are images of The Image--who is Jesus Christ, the Son, the Word, the one Perfect Image of the Father. Now this Perfect Image which is God the Son is also the Truth and the Word--the Word which is the Father's perfect self knowledge, "spoken" to Himself.

What impact does this have upon our own natural reason? Because we are in our very nature images of this one Perfect Image of the Father, we, in our own human acts of knowing the created world, share (participate) in the very self-understanding of God within Himself. To gain authentic knowledge--to grow in wisdom and understanding of the world and of ourselves--is, by the very activity of our minds, to come more deeply into contact with the interior "thought" of God Himself. (Note: the new knowledge of God we gain by the gift of faith, opened to us at Baptism, is another thing beyond this and is not attainable by our reason alone; I am trying now to remain on the natural plane that all mankind shares regardless of faith.)

This train of thought leads us to see (though dimly) that knowledge and love--in God--are united. To know is to love and to love is to know, at least from the divine perspective. In the beatific vision knowledge and love will be one in the awesome splendor of each individual person's direct encounter with the Triune God. (The role of grace in our earthly life and how the infused virtues transform and elevate natural reason with a new capacity is another important aspect of all this which I won't try to go into here.)

I find this mysterious interplay between the mind of God and the minds of men fascinating. Without losing sight of the clear demarcation between God and man, creature and creator, it means that exercising the human mind upon the created realm is already to possess an awesome dignity--the dignity of being an image of God in the very operation of our minds as we learn and grow in our understanding of reality. For indeed, even as we know things independently as unique, free, self-possessed thinkers, ultimately it is also the case that we know all that we know in Him (in whom and through whom all things were made; Jn 1:1-5)! How's this for anthropological awesomeness!

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Horse and Rider Together as One

This is for anyone who likes horses and is a follow-up (of sorts) to yesterday's post on the Song of Songs. . .

Here is a link to an impressive video: Stacy Westfall (now a professional horse trainer), in 2006, riding a Quarter Horse mare named Roxy in a competition ride while bareback AND bridleless.
(Video link here)
[note: the video cannot be embedded; it is a Windows Media File]

As someone who rode horses when I was younger (my little sister still is a horse person--she has three of them), what is most impressive is that Stacy is riding not only bareback (which isn't that big of a deal)--but without a bridle. She has nothing in her hands to control the horse's head. The technical sort of pattern riding she does in the video without a bridle is very impressive. It takes years for a horse and rider to get really good at this sort of riding with a saddle and bridle. But bareback and bridleless both? Wow.

This video is sort-of a follow-up on that portion of yesterday's Song of Songs post (chapter 1, v 9) that has to do with an analogy to a chariot horse because it provides a good example of an excellent horse and rider that have become one. They work as a single unit. This is the sort of bond that is possible between a horse and a human person that I alluded to in my remarks on Scripture.

update: Below is a You Tube video of Turkish mounted riders shooting bows and arrows (and some sort of spears at the end). Horsemanship came from the East and spread from there to Western Europe. Traditions of horsemanship in the East (such as Turkey, Tibet, Mongolia) have very ancient roots.


Monday, June 22, 2009

Song of Songs, 4 [on spousal love]

[To see all of the earlier posts and this one gathered together in this my sporadic running commentary on the Song of Songs, look to the sidebar on the right under, "Labels," and click on Song of Songs.]

Chapter 1, v 8

The maiden may gain an understanding of her bridegroom's ways by being alert for the "tracks" of those whom he looks after. Or, another way, she may look for traces of the effects of his work in the world. These need not be great in the world's eyes. Simply, how do her groom's activities impact (whether in ways large or small) the lives of those on behalf of whom he works? Further, if she wants to get a variety of perspectives as to what sort of person he is, she might be wise to spend some time alongside those companions in his life who are closest to him.

v 9

I grew up with horses. They are excellent creatures! Mares (female horses) are not all of the same temperament. A mare who was destined to the honor of pulling the Pharaoh's chariot would surely have been hand picked as the very best among those suited by disposition for this special role. Such a horse could not be timid, "flighty" (easily scared), or overly delicate and prone to injury. A chariot horse (in a horse-like way) would have to be strong; sturdy; fearless (to forge ahead in spite of the din of war all around her); totally trusting of her driver's signals yet also possessed of tremendous and quick instincts of her own about where dangers lay on the field of battle and how to avoid them without flipping the chariot over; she would need to be fast; of extraordinary stamina and determination (to hold to a line through the battlefield and keep charging through it no matter what). In other words, superb chariot horses were very special, extraordinary creatures--and greatly prized. Certainly they were highly trained to work as a single unit in harmony with their particular drivers. And, in keeping with ancient cultures for which the horse was an integral part, it would always be best if the mare were all the above and also beautiful and glorious to behold! There truly is something very special about a beautiful horse. Horses seem to have a nobility and grace--a combination of natural majesty together with refined power--that exceeds any other creature (beyond the world of persons) on earth.

And so when the bridegroom compares his beloved to a mare of Pharaoh's chariots, this is something quite extraordinary. For the Pharaoh's mares, for sure, would have been the most superlative in power, instinct, toughness, speed, docility to the driver's touch, and fearlessness, as well as the most breathtakingly beautiful of all their noble equine sisters! Such literary comparisons perhaps pass through our minds as quaint or of little consequence. But this would not have been so for a reader belonging to an ancient Eastern culture that depended on horses in battle. Good horses were vital to the survival of their society.

Indeed, I suggest that perhaps it would have been true that in the ancient east, in a horse culture, the most flattering animal that could be used out of all the creatures of the earth as an analogy for an extraordinary and beautiful woman would be the horse. Ancient horse cultures were serious about their horses!

Frenetic, Distractible, Unfocused Minds

This is a big problem: (what seems to me, anyhow,) the growing lack of ability of young people to maintain focused attention upon one item for a prolonged span of time.

Not everyone has the same intellectual potential. But, among those who are at least average or above average in intellectual gifts, a very important part of becoming adult and a good citizen of our democratic society is developing the virtue of well-reasoned argumentation. This requires first the mental facility to engage a subject in a deep, significant way, to scrutinize it in one's mind against what one already knows, adding in the wisdom of experience and common sense, and thus to come to a reasonable conclusion about something which can then be articulated and defended competently in dialogue with others. This virtue of sound thinking and the effective communication of one's ideas to others is vital for a healthy democratic society. Without it, we cannot have real arguments. And arguments--authentic arguments (not the same as the alternating closed-minded monologues and empty personal attacks that often falsely pass for argumentation)--are crucial. If a democratic society cannot effectively engage itself in the sharpening of mind against mind that takes place with genuine argumentation, the replacement may eventually be some form of totalitarianism.

Witness in evidence of this negative trend: the mass media. Now, the major TV news shows have never been remarkable for their depth. However, it seems to me that in recent years this has been getting worse. One struggles in vain to gain significant context from the frenzied, here-there-everywhere "reports" as they jump around, presenting the viewer with a jumble of visual images along with word phrases that often do not contain complete sentences. The style of media reporting seems to increasingly assume that viewers do not want to think about anything, they just want a smattering of things thrown out to occupy the mind for a brief time. This passes for taking in the news.

What has brought us this decline in clear thinking? Many things, I'm sure. But, certainly one significant factor is the way we use the electronic communications media and how this impacts our habits of mind. Young persons, especially (say, under 30 or so?), have spent a significant part of their formative years attuned to electronic media (internet, texting, etc.) that specialize in packaging information into tiny snippets. Seldom do they, say, read an entire book; more likely to scan headlines, exchange cryptic texts, or watch a one minute video on You Tube. Such habits mitigate against being a people of sound reasoning and argumentation.

Among the many goals that are critical to curtailing the negative cultural drift in America is to raise up our youth to be men and women who can think clearly--who can focus upon something with their minds in a sustained and serious way. How to do this? How to stem this surging tide of ever more unfocused, easily distracted, unfocused minds?

[The post at Inside Catholic, "Turning Conservatism Into a Grunt," got me to thinking along these lines]

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Song of Songs 3

I would like to return to my sporadic commentary on the Song of Songs. For my earlier posts see the first here and the second here.

Chapter 1, v 7


The maiden wants to know where her bridegroom is active about his work--where is the place where he is engaged in the world. Where is the place where he is responsible to watch over others--where is it that he has a vocation to guard, protect, and provide for others? For this, this is the place she wants to be also. The maiden senses that she is somehow fated to be joined with the destiny of the work of her groom--she is to be one with not only him, but with his vocation and his place of active engagement in the world. Until she is finally together with him and his field of action in the world, she feels a little bit lost, wandering, with no definite place to belong. Wherever he leads his 'flock' is where she wants to be; this is where she is no longer a vagabond.

[Please note these are simply my reflections based upon Sacred Scripture, following where it seems to lead; I make no claim to anything like a definitive exposition. A highly poetic and literary book of the Bible such as this especially lends itself to multiple interpretations.]