I have been listening to a seminar called The Good, the Beautiful, and the True – Buddhism and Western Philosophy. Don’t know much about Buddhism (or any religion for that matter) but intrigued. Week 2 lead by Manjusiha discussed the value of aesthetics from a philosophical position, looking at the ideas of mainly Kant, Plato, and Schopenhauer in regards to music and the arts.
It started with a quote from Iris Murdoch’s novel The Black Prince, ‘Art tells the only truth that ultimately matters. It is the light by which human things can be mended. And after art there is, let me assure you all, nothing.’ Ummm; even I don’t want that (mainly due to my loyalty to nature). Though ‘truth’ in art is in the eye of the beholder. It is one of the few platforms where the unknown or unanswered can be met with more questions, where we are more likely to admit that we do not know; that there is no right or wrong.
He also stated one philosophical positioning of art as being ‘the only things that artworks have in common are that we call them artworks’.
Absolute music was also discussed. Music without a title, words or accompanying literature. Music apparently without signifiers. Absolute music is used as a sceptical tool by some philosophers. Abstract painting was referred to as a visual equivalent to absolute music. I guess for argument purposes both would need to be untitled and the artist unknown. It is argued that unlike tragedies or arts with narrative, absolute music can have no truth. For example if a death occurs in a novel, most people will have an emotional response to what is represented because of our humanness. Our empathy. The sceptical view being, the arts are only transcendental when there are representational triggers.
I think we underestimate what will always be there, even when we take everything away. Surely there will always exist the basic of signifiers. Sensed by the truths and needs all are born with, interpreted and reflected in our bodies. Though primitive (and cheesy!) there is a correlation between the beat of a drum and the beat of a heart. There is a truth, albeit simple, in a rapidly made, red brushstroke.
Last week I attended a talk regarding the potential for progress by the journalist and writer John-Paul Flintoff who discussed the ideas of philosophers, alongside his own bizarre and inspiring adventures such as making underpants from stinging nettles.
During WWI Britain controlled the majority of the worlds cotton. The German army when faced with a shortage of cotton for their uniforms, had a look around them and came up with the solution of using the fibres of stinging nettles. Perhaps we should look at the resources we already have, especially those we overlook and underestimate; those we do not know are resources.
Every friday evening (I think this is alongside Shabbat – a Jewish tradition) younger members of his family are encouraged to think about what was worthwhile in their week. What they have achieved and what they are looking forward to in the following week. I really like that. I may borrow.
At the core of Flintoff’s talk was his question ‘What would you do if you could not fail?’
Visited Gerhard Richter’s Panorama at the Tate last week. Contradictory. Was first struck by Aunt Marianne 1965, a painting of Richter as a baby in the arms of his Aunt, who was later euthanised by the Nazis, targeted because of her mental ill health. Next to this was a painting of Richter’s uncle in a Wehrmacht uniform. A powerful start to the exhibition. Many of Richters works are deliberately painted as blurred images – with my own respiration and movement it almost appeared as if they breathed.
My favourite rooms were Damaged landscapes and Grey Paintings and Colour Charts, again there was a sense of movement especially in the seascapes. Strangely an abstract painting of the Alps II 1968 made me feel unsettled. I was also happily irritated by his clouds, they were beautiful in their own right, yet frustratingly dull. His interest in the banal is shown throughout the exhibition and the fact he created over 25 paintings of candles in a 2 year period. From the late 1960’s to the mid 1970’s he worked a lot in grey monochrome so perhaps I was craving more colour, the following is taken from the exhibition leaflet:
‘He wrote at the time that grey ‘makes no statement whatsoever; it evokes neither feelings nor associations; it is really neither visible nor invisible… Grey is the welcome and only possible equivalent for indifference, noncommitment, absence of opinion, absence of shape.’ Years later he suggested another dimension to these works: ‘grey monochrome paintings [were] the only way for me to paint concentration camps. It is impossible to paint the misery of life, except maybe in grey, to cover it.’ [1]
Grey is matter of fact, it is the black and white of the newspaper print or the newspresenter’s autocue. It is stern and attempts the unemotional. Perhaps the represented power and the unknown of nature was threatening. Richter’s styles are very diverse if it wasn’t for palette and subject matter it would be easy to think they were made by more than one artist. He seems to be able to play and express his own contradictory interests, views and questions. It is as if the ease and ability at which he uses paint is his own personal joke or weapon to address the traumatic and the everyday.
Another blockbuster – I do visit other exhibitions I just happened to fancy a cycle to the river. No book just 3 postcards.
1. GODFREY. M, 2011, Gerhard Richter – Panorama, [Exhibition Leaflet], London: Tate Modern.
