I think I am almost embarrassed at how typical my response is to the Sistine Chapel. I understand that everyone who goes to the Sistine Chapel adores it. I understand this, but for some reason I felt that perhaps I would be different.
It blew me away. I do not know if I will ever have such an experience as I did with the Sistine Chapel. Some do not like how many tourists are around or how long it takes to get to it. For me, all of that disappeared when I entered into the Chapel. I could have sat there forever being reminded of how marvelous and surreal the gift of life truly is for men and women.
As I study, and experience, I do not believe that artwork ever becomes the axis mundi. That being said, I am not entirely sure where I think art fits into the scheme of life, at least for the Christian. I do not think there should be a war between art and religion, but perhaps a better perspective? Art is not what brings us to God. By experiencing the Sistine Chapel, I may have felt wonder at its incredible depiction of the Bible, but ultimately that would not lead me to God. I believe that it is God who brings us to Himself. Art should never try and lower the person of Christ to being its limited self. Art can never express all of Jesus or God.
On the other hand, I feel that art is a crucial component to life. Why is it so crucial? Some have argued that it is because the symbols in religion, ie art, become the axis mundi. I think that is false and puts art on the same plane as God. Instead, I believe that art was created to be the most natural way for man to celebrate God. If God did not want man to create He would not have given men such talent as in the case of Michelangelo. This is where art and religion meet. The Bible says that whatever one does, he should do it to the glory of God. Michelangelo understood this and created an image that expressed his faith in worship to God which will lives on in the hearts of those who see it.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Vatican/Michelangelo - AHB
Michelangelo's last judgment works as a pretty ridiculous altar piece. I can't imagine paying attention to a priest when he is standing in front of that thing. One thing that really strikes me about the painting is the sharp contrasts. This makes sense considering the subject matter, but there is layer upon layer of images and symbols that are profound and moving.
I love that Christ is placed in the center; he is the focal point in a vortex of action. His placid face is a complete counterpoint from the chaos in the rest of the scene. There is no trace of regret about what must be done, he knows the plan and is perfectly ready to follow it through. Many of the other faces are looking to him with terror-stricken expressions, but he looks completely in control, showing Jesus' divinity as well as any painting in history.
I think it is really amazing that Michelangelo combined Christian symbolism with Greek mythology. The whole scene is the bottom right corner is fascinating. Charon is driving the condemned into the arms of their eternal tormentors, who seem beside themselves with joy over their prey - the last hurrah. I also like the scenes of people being dragged down to hell. The famous image of the man who is being pulled down by the legs speaks volumes. His face bears the consequential weight of his decisions on the earth, and he know understands that he is facing down an eternity of suffering. I would be covering both of my eyes.
I love that Christ is placed in the center; he is the focal point in a vortex of action. His placid face is a complete counterpoint from the chaos in the rest of the scene. There is no trace of regret about what must be done, he knows the plan and is perfectly ready to follow it through. Many of the other faces are looking to him with terror-stricken expressions, but he looks completely in control, showing Jesus' divinity as well as any painting in history.
I think it is really amazing that Michelangelo combined Christian symbolism with Greek mythology. The whole scene is the bottom right corner is fascinating. Charon is driving the condemned into the arms of their eternal tormentors, who seem beside themselves with joy over their prey - the last hurrah. I also like the scenes of people being dragged down to hell. The famous image of the man who is being pulled down by the legs speaks volumes. His face bears the consequential weight of his decisions on the earth, and he know understands that he is facing down an eternity of suffering. I would be covering both of my eyes.
Vatican/Raphael - AHB
I supremely enjoyed the visit to the Vatican museums and the Sistine chapel. It is a staggering experience to stand under or beside these paintings that mean so much to Western society. The only disappointment was having to move so fast.
The work of art I want to talk about is Rapheal's "School of Athens".
Greek philosophy has a big part of my education. The first time I really wanted to learn (there were several years where I had little intention of going to college) was after reading "the Apology of Socrates". I feel like if all I learned from college was 1/10 of Plato's dialogues I would be content.
When we were flying through the Raphael rooms I had no idea where we were or what was going on. I easily could have overlooked the School of Athens completely, but there it stood stopping me dead in my tracks. This is one of the most beautiful works of art I have ever seen, and the composition is so alive and exciting. I love how Raphael captures these individuals in the midst of their work, almost like a snapshot of their entire lives. Plato and Aristotle provide order to the whole, just as their debate can define so much of human life. Their gestures speak a great deal; Plato points to the sky while Aristotle points out, showing their respective attitudes toward the goal of philosophical inquiry. There's a lot of material online about this piece and the different symbols within it.
Visual art has always been kind of a tricky point for me. I see music and understand it's message much more clearly, but our trip to Rome and Greece has really helped me develop my appreciation of painting and sculpting. When a story is able to constructed in a single image it is a pretty amazing thing.
The work of art I want to talk about is Rapheal's "School of Athens".
Greek philosophy has a big part of my education. The first time I really wanted to learn (there were several years where I had little intention of going to college) was after reading "the Apology of Socrates". I feel like if all I learned from college was 1/10 of Plato's dialogues I would be content.
When we were flying through the Raphael rooms I had no idea where we were or what was going on. I easily could have overlooked the School of Athens completely, but there it stood stopping me dead in my tracks. This is one of the most beautiful works of art I have ever seen, and the composition is so alive and exciting. I love how Raphael captures these individuals in the midst of their work, almost like a snapshot of their entire lives. Plato and Aristotle provide order to the whole, just as their debate can define so much of human life. Their gestures speak a great deal; Plato points to the sky while Aristotle points out, showing their respective attitudes toward the goal of philosophical inquiry. There's a lot of material online about this piece and the different symbols within it.
Visual art has always been kind of a tricky point for me. I see music and understand it's message much more clearly, but our trip to Rome and Greece has really helped me develop my appreciation of painting and sculpting. When a story is able to constructed in a single image it is a pretty amazing thing.
Monday, November 24, 2008
The First Elegy - AHB
I'm going outside of the box on this one. My subject is a poem entitled, "The First Elegy", by Rainer Maria Rilke, on of Prague's most well know poets. The poem touches on the sacred, and I think it is an interesting piece to place alongside the Decalogue and Wings of Desire. Check it out here.
First thing to notice is the term elegy, which means, "a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead". Rilke's verse drips with the mysterious aspect of the sacred. The lines seem both familiar and unknowable. One of my favorite lines is, "Ah, who can we turn to, then? Neither angels nor men, and the animals already know by instinct we're not comfortably at home in our translated world." What is fascinating about this line, and the entire piece, is that Rilke communicates a sense of the sacred along with a profound feeling of loneliness. It is as if the presence of a higher order or being fills the human being with uncomfortable feelings that he would not have possessed otherwise; a feeling echoed in this line, "beauty's nothing but the start of terror we can hardly bear, and we adore it because of the serene scorn it could kill us with". To me this is something more than just the mysterium tremendum. That phrase speaks of fear, such as the creature feeling, but not the same kind of inward death that Rilke's poem walks through. Perhaps the elegy is not even for someone else, maybe it is being written by the one who is watching his own death occur.
The only feeling more awful than this death is love.
"It's strange not to wish your wishes anymore"
First thing to notice is the term elegy, which means, "a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead". Rilke's verse drips with the mysterious aspect of the sacred. The lines seem both familiar and unknowable. One of my favorite lines is, "Ah, who can we turn to, then? Neither angels nor men, and the animals already know by instinct we're not comfortably at home in our translated world." What is fascinating about this line, and the entire piece, is that Rilke communicates a sense of the sacred along with a profound feeling of loneliness. It is as if the presence of a higher order or being fills the human being with uncomfortable feelings that he would not have possessed otherwise; a feeling echoed in this line, "beauty's nothing but the start of terror we can hardly bear, and we adore it because of the serene scorn it could kill us with". To me this is something more than just the mysterium tremendum. That phrase speaks of fear, such as the creature feeling, but not the same kind of inward death that Rilke's poem walks through. Perhaps the elegy is not even for someone else, maybe it is being written by the one who is watching his own death occur.
The only feeling more awful than this death is love.
"It's strange not to wish your wishes anymore"
Jan Saudek Gallery - AHB
Saudek is one trippy little Czech, but this gallery was a lot of fun - in part because it is shocking and vastly different from everything else we've seen. To me the question is not whether photography can be art, but rather what kind of art it is. Is it bound by the same rules as other mediums, or does it stand alone?
It is interesting that Saudek's work has gotten edgier in recent years. Just looking through his website shows pretty start contrasts between the last 15 years and everything else. The older stuff seems to revolve a lot more around the family, while the more contemporary work is sexual and risque. Often you hear about artists sort of refining their style in their later years. I wonder if this is the case for Saudek. The skeptic would probably suggest that photos like "the journey" are Saudek's attempt to make up for his lack of creativity. I don't know what to think, but it does make me wonder. Sometimes it's easy to grab on to something really extreme and try and make it a profound artistic statement. I mean, what does the image of a man walking his toddler into an unknown vagina say about the world? (I kind of want to write a little caption over the baby like, "Shoot man turn around, I just got out of here!")
Amanda brought up the idea of using nudity to express and/or explore the subconscious. It makes sense to me to talk about nudity as a way of exploring intimacy, sexuality, vulnerability, and the like, but I don't think I buy in to the unconscious argument. Then again psychiatry and I have never been the best of friends.
It is interesting that Saudek's work has gotten edgier in recent years. Just looking through his website shows pretty start contrasts between the last 15 years and everything else. The older stuff seems to revolve a lot more around the family, while the more contemporary work is sexual and risque. Often you hear about artists sort of refining their style in their later years. I wonder if this is the case for Saudek. The skeptic would probably suggest that photos like "the journey" are Saudek's attempt to make up for his lack of creativity. I don't know what to think, but it does make me wonder. Sometimes it's easy to grab on to something really extreme and try and make it a profound artistic statement. I mean, what does the image of a man walking his toddler into an unknown vagina say about the world? (I kind of want to write a little caption over the baby like, "Shoot man turn around, I just got out of here!")
Amanda brought up the idea of using nudity to express and/or explore the subconscious. It makes sense to me to talk about nudity as a way of exploring intimacy, sexuality, vulnerability, and the like, but I don't think I buy in to the unconscious argument. Then again psychiatry and I have never been the best of friends.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Rigoletto - AHB
Rigoletto was another fantastic performance by the State Opera company, and it was made even better when we were taken from the nosebleed seats to the third row center. In terms of plot there is so much going on in this show that could easily provide pages of blogging. I don't want to give a synopsis because there are plenty around.
The meat of the plot revolves around three characters: the Duke, his jester Rigoletto, and Rigoletto's daughter Gilda. The Duke is the classic playboy character who reviles in his power and position with the help of plentiful amounts of wine and skirts. He plays the game of lust and conquest because that is all that he sees. However, despite his hatred of love, he cannot help but be won over by the innocence and charm of Gilda. She is the absolute counterpoint to his selfishness, hedonism, and vanity.
Because the Duke does not really understand love, and it's irrational offspring sacrifice, he abandons his short-lived fidelity for the fecund fields of Maddelena. So far, no big surprises but it is coming. At Rigoletto's behest, Gilda spies on her lover and witnesses his shameful actions. But she also finds out that Maddelena is setting a trap for the Duke that will cost him his life. Gilda, seemingly the least vengeful woman in all of history, decides that she still loves the Duke (apparently their week long romance was pretty good) and she tricks the assassins into killing her instead of her love. I generally fail to comprehend the actions of woman, so I'm giving up on this one.
The story consistently points to the the duplicity of the Duke, and this becomes a major theme. Several times the Duke is heard singing "La Donna E Mobile"(one of the greatest songs in the history of opera), which is an aria about the unfaithfulness of women (bad breakup, eh?). Bad things always happen when you apply a single experience to an entire category of people. We never learn how the Duke responds to the death of Gilda, much less if he ever finds out her motivation. But I can imagine that would be a pretty significant moment in his life.
The meat of the plot revolves around three characters: the Duke, his jester Rigoletto, and Rigoletto's daughter Gilda. The Duke is the classic playboy character who reviles in his power and position with the help of plentiful amounts of wine and skirts. He plays the game of lust and conquest because that is all that he sees. However, despite his hatred of love, he cannot help but be won over by the innocence and charm of Gilda. She is the absolute counterpoint to his selfishness, hedonism, and vanity.
Because the Duke does not really understand love, and it's irrational offspring sacrifice, he abandons his short-lived fidelity for the fecund fields of Maddelena. So far, no big surprises but it is coming. At Rigoletto's behest, Gilda spies on her lover and witnesses his shameful actions. But she also finds out that Maddelena is setting a trap for the Duke that will cost him his life. Gilda, seemingly the least vengeful woman in all of history, decides that she still loves the Duke (apparently their week long romance was pretty good) and she tricks the assassins into killing her instead of her love. I generally fail to comprehend the actions of woman, so I'm giving up on this one.
The story consistently points to the the duplicity of the Duke, and this becomes a major theme. Several times the Duke is heard singing "La Donna E Mobile"(one of the greatest songs in the history of opera), which is an aria about the unfaithfulness of women (bad breakup, eh?). Bad things always happen when you apply a single experience to an entire category of people. We never learn how the Duke responds to the death of Gilda, much less if he ever finds out her motivation. But I can imagine that would be a pretty significant moment in his life.
Mucha Muzeum - AHB
The Mucha museum and gallery far surpassed my expectations. I did not expect to become a fan of art nouveau, but the vibrancy of the work really captured my attention. The film helped me understand Mucha, allowing further appreciation of his art. And like Amanda said, I was really struck by his love and dedication to the Czech/Slavic peoples. Mucha made great attempts to use his art to build bridges, and one of the most important connections that people can make is to their shared history. The Slav Epic could speak to nearly any other people group, its themes and visuals speak to the common condition of man. I also really the films explanations of different colors being used for past, present, and future. Mucha's dedication to the work is inspiring, but it makes you wonder how many other projects like that never take off due to lack of funds.
For me the highlight of the gallery was Mucha's more commercial stuff. It's sad that this kind of art is often dismissed because of its intended audience, but I like to look at it the other way around. How often do you ever see greatness in commercial art/advertising? It blows me away that Mucha could take a job from a cigarette papers company and turn it into something beautiful.
I also really like Mucha's multi-panel work. His depiction of the arts and the times of the day are so visually communicative.
The development of a personal style is a really amazing thing. I almost wonder if people like Mucha have a vastly different perception of the world and if their art simply overflows from the world that they see.
For me the highlight of the gallery was Mucha's more commercial stuff. It's sad that this kind of art is often dismissed because of its intended audience, but I like to look at it the other way around. How often do you ever see greatness in commercial art/advertising? It blows me away that Mucha could take a job from a cigarette papers company and turn it into something beautiful.
I also really like Mucha's multi-panel work. His depiction of the arts and the times of the day are so visually communicative.
The development of a personal style is a really amazing thing. I almost wonder if people like Mucha have a vastly different perception of the world and if their art simply overflows from the world that they see.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Phantom Communication
Garrett Lambur
Upon watching Phantom of the Opera I developed a new appreciation of dance as a use of communication. This may be expected within my generation, who has grown up with dance as a representation of sex. You go to a club today and the majority of dancing seems to be grinding, itself a likeness of sex. Of course there is that small percentage of people not grinding up on each other. I am not attempting to say that dance other than grinding is dead in our generation, in fact a good dancer can get a lot of attention, say someone who can do Michael Jackson’s Thriller. But the majority of it has moved beyond any communication except sex. Perhaps this is linked to our generation’s obsession with sex and getting laid. However, within Phantom of the Opera, I saw for the first time in, well possibly forever, the ability to communicate anything other than sexual desire. True, there were the scenes with the communication of sexual desire but there was so much more.
This was the first ever ballet that I have attended and combined with the popularization of Andrew Lyoyd Webber’s version I have to confess I expected more vocalization, in fact I expected some singing. My first reaction followed the lines of, what, I have to figure out what is going on without any singing or speaking. True, everything would be in a foreign tongue but I was expecting subtitles too. As the production went on my opinion began to grow in a fonder sense. I could understand what was happening, the jealousy of the two competing dancers for the lead or the anger of the Phantom, albeit he was aided by an awesome sinister laugh. The emotions were conveyed effectively through nothing more than dancing. Were the music removed from the show I am positive that understanding the emotions in the dancing would still be relatively easy. It made me realize how influential gestures and body language are in daily conversation because the majority of motions that easily translated from dance to vocalization are accompanied with similar motions in conversation.
Although I never saw myself agreeing with Van Der Leeuw regarding the ability of dance to communicate after seeing the ballet my opinion has greatly changed. Upon further thought there is substantially more support for the effectiveness of dance as a communication tool. Take for example the fact I am American and saw Phantom in the Czech Republic and understood the story with only a few bits misunderstood. Now I will not go as far as to say that any person of any culture on this planet could comprehend the story after seeing the ballet but I believe that a majority of them could. If you doubt this then think about how much emphasis you place upon a person’s facial expression when conversing with them or upon their body language, where do they place their hands, how do they hold themselves, then relate this back to dance. Dance is an extension of these facial expressions or body language without the verbal communication.
Now this does not mean that I will not make a fool of myself in the future and attempt to do a random ballet move while exclaiming “Chlia!,” a nonexistent ballet term. But I wonder where popular dance began such a change to the sexual communication that is has today, perhaps, Dirty Dancing?
Upon watching Phantom of the Opera I developed a new appreciation of dance as a use of communication. This may be expected within my generation, who has grown up with dance as a representation of sex. You go to a club today and the majority of dancing seems to be grinding, itself a likeness of sex. Of course there is that small percentage of people not grinding up on each other. I am not attempting to say that dance other than grinding is dead in our generation, in fact a good dancer can get a lot of attention, say someone who can do Michael Jackson’s Thriller. But the majority of it has moved beyond any communication except sex. Perhaps this is linked to our generation’s obsession with sex and getting laid. However, within Phantom of the Opera, I saw for the first time in, well possibly forever, the ability to communicate anything other than sexual desire. True, there were the scenes with the communication of sexual desire but there was so much more.
This was the first ever ballet that I have attended and combined with the popularization of Andrew Lyoyd Webber’s version I have to confess I expected more vocalization, in fact I expected some singing. My first reaction followed the lines of, what, I have to figure out what is going on without any singing or speaking. True, everything would be in a foreign tongue but I was expecting subtitles too. As the production went on my opinion began to grow in a fonder sense. I could understand what was happening, the jealousy of the two competing dancers for the lead or the anger of the Phantom, albeit he was aided by an awesome sinister laugh. The emotions were conveyed effectively through nothing more than dancing. Were the music removed from the show I am positive that understanding the emotions in the dancing would still be relatively easy. It made me realize how influential gestures and body language are in daily conversation because the majority of motions that easily translated from dance to vocalization are accompanied with similar motions in conversation.
Although I never saw myself agreeing with Van Der Leeuw regarding the ability of dance to communicate after seeing the ballet my opinion has greatly changed. Upon further thought there is substantially more support for the effectiveness of dance as a communication tool. Take for example the fact I am American and saw Phantom in the Czech Republic and understood the story with only a few bits misunderstood. Now I will not go as far as to say that any person of any culture on this planet could comprehend the story after seeing the ballet but I believe that a majority of them could. If you doubt this then think about how much emphasis you place upon a person’s facial expression when conversing with them or upon their body language, where do they place their hands, how do they hold themselves, then relate this back to dance. Dance is an extension of these facial expressions or body language without the verbal communication.
Now this does not mean that I will not make a fool of myself in the future and attempt to do a random ballet move while exclaiming “Chlia!,” a nonexistent ballet term. But I wonder where popular dance began such a change to the sexual communication that is has today, perhaps, Dirty Dancing?
Magic Flute - AHB
The Magic Flute was probably the most fun that I've had at the opera so far. It's a very mystical show and sort of reminds me of an Athenian drama. There are demigods on both sides of good and evil, while mortal men and women are caught in between.
One of the major contrasts drawn in the show is the between the two central men, Tamino and Papageno. I'll try and give a brief summary since I'm not sure anyone else has seen it. Both Tamino and Papageno are sent on a quest by the Queen of the Night. Their objective is to retrieve the Queen's daughter from her captor Sarastro. Both the viewer and the pair of heroes come to discover that the Queen is not all that she seems, and that it is actually Sarastro who is the wise and virtuous ruler. (Here's where the long story gets short) Tamino comes to the rescue of the princess, but he must prove himself worthy by passing several tests of his virtue and love. Papageno must also undergo these trials, but he is promised a true love, his own "Papagena", if he passes.
Both pass their respective tests, but because he is content with his bride, Papageno is not granted the wisdom that Tamino receives. Mozart is using these characters to draw the distinction between man's different natural tendencies. We see a similar type of division within Plato's Republic. Socrates argues that individuals must be treated differently according to the medals in their soul (one can either be bronze, silver, or gold). Tamino is gold, a natural prince, while Papageno would probably be a bronze because he is unable to get past his own limitations.
The idea that all men are created equal is pretty novel within the world of politics and government. The greatest problem with this phrase is that few make an attempt to define what it means. Even those who can come up with a good definition, natural rights camp, their meaning is often misconstrued and used in unintended ways. Alexis de Toqueville famous postulated that there is a natural conflict between liberty and equality, one is always gaining at the others expense. The Magic Flute provides a very interesting form for exploring this debate. One thing I do like about the ending is that both protagonists end up achieving their desires.
One of the major contrasts drawn in the show is the between the two central men, Tamino and Papageno. I'll try and give a brief summary since I'm not sure anyone else has seen it. Both Tamino and Papageno are sent on a quest by the Queen of the Night. Their objective is to retrieve the Queen's daughter from her captor Sarastro. Both the viewer and the pair of heroes come to discover that the Queen is not all that she seems, and that it is actually Sarastro who is the wise and virtuous ruler. (Here's where the long story gets short) Tamino comes to the rescue of the princess, but he must prove himself worthy by passing several tests of his virtue and love. Papageno must also undergo these trials, but he is promised a true love, his own "Papagena", if he passes.
Both pass their respective tests, but because he is content with his bride, Papageno is not granted the wisdom that Tamino receives. Mozart is using these characters to draw the distinction between man's different natural tendencies. We see a similar type of division within Plato's Republic. Socrates argues that individuals must be treated differently according to the medals in their soul (one can either be bronze, silver, or gold). Tamino is gold, a natural prince, while Papageno would probably be a bronze because he is unable to get past his own limitations.
The idea that all men are created equal is pretty novel within the world of politics and government. The greatest problem with this phrase is that few make an attempt to define what it means. Even those who can come up with a good definition, natural rights camp, their meaning is often misconstrued and used in unintended ways. Alexis de Toqueville famous postulated that there is a natural conflict between liberty and equality, one is always gaining at the others expense. The Magic Flute provides a very interesting form for exploring this debate. One thing I do like about the ending is that both protagonists end up achieving their desires.
La Boheme - AHB
I'm doing this one a little out of order since it is still so fresh in my memory. Rather than analyze the topic of my presentation, I just want to take about it's impact as a piece of art, especially some of the scenes/motifs/songs that spoke to me.
First a short artistic note. I thought the sets in La Boheme were the best I've seen from the operas/performances I've been to in Prague. The Cafe Momus and apartment set were especially well done. The performances, on the other hand, left a little to be desired but overall the cast was strong. I've been watching and listening to Pavarotti play the role of Rodolpho, so I'll grant that any comparison is not going to be especially fair.
The first really notable scene is the meeting between Rodolfo and Mimi in the first act. While lighting her candle Mimi loses her key, which Rodolfo pockets in order to prolong this encounter. I love the image of the two bohemians groping on the floor in search of the key and ending up with their hands brushing across each other. The randomness of this event is such that it is easy to overlook the underlying symbolism, but there is so much going on here. Rodolfo is a poet who lives like a king in a world of words, while Mimi is a seamstress who escapes into the realm of flowers. Both of these realms possess beauty of their own but their true power is only revealed through love. The loss of artificial light and the accidental touch of the hands brought true illumination to their being, making real what had before only been an abstraction. Sometimes it's the moments we least control that change our lives the most.
The Cafe Momus scene makes me laugh because Rodolfo and Mimi might as well not even be present, they are living in a world of their own.
The second scene I want to talk about occurs outside of the customs house in act 3. Mimi overhears Rodolfo tell Marcello the true reason for his rejection of Mimi. Rodolfo realizes that she is dying and knows that he does not have the capacity to provide for her needs. At first it seems that they agree to separate, but after a moment they decide that "no one should be alone during the winter" - possibly my favorite line of the show. As a compromise they choose to remain together until the Spring, at which point Mimi sings, "Let the Winter last forever". Ironically, the random circumstances that brought the two together are now tearing them apart. The bohemian creeds is based on accepting life for better or worse, and choosing not to reject the greatest passions available to man in order to avoid the inevitable pain that will come.
Puccini has created characters that affect in the deepest possible way - even if I had wanted to do my presentation afterward, there is no way that I could have.
First a short artistic note. I thought the sets in La Boheme were the best I've seen from the operas/performances I've been to in Prague. The Cafe Momus and apartment set were especially well done. The performances, on the other hand, left a little to be desired but overall the cast was strong. I've been watching and listening to Pavarotti play the role of Rodolpho, so I'll grant that any comparison is not going to be especially fair.
The first really notable scene is the meeting between Rodolfo and Mimi in the first act. While lighting her candle Mimi loses her key, which Rodolfo pockets in order to prolong this encounter. I love the image of the two bohemians groping on the floor in search of the key and ending up with their hands brushing across each other. The randomness of this event is such that it is easy to overlook the underlying symbolism, but there is so much going on here. Rodolfo is a poet who lives like a king in a world of words, while Mimi is a seamstress who escapes into the realm of flowers. Both of these realms possess beauty of their own but their true power is only revealed through love. The loss of artificial light and the accidental touch of the hands brought true illumination to their being, making real what had before only been an abstraction. Sometimes it's the moments we least control that change our lives the most.
The Cafe Momus scene makes me laugh because Rodolfo and Mimi might as well not even be present, they are living in a world of their own.
The second scene I want to talk about occurs outside of the customs house in act 3. Mimi overhears Rodolfo tell Marcello the true reason for his rejection of Mimi. Rodolfo realizes that she is dying and knows that he does not have the capacity to provide for her needs. At first it seems that they agree to separate, but after a moment they decide that "no one should be alone during the winter" - possibly my favorite line of the show. As a compromise they choose to remain together until the Spring, at which point Mimi sings, "Let the Winter last forever". Ironically, the random circumstances that brought the two together are now tearing them apart. The bohemian creeds is based on accepting life for better or worse, and choosing not to reject the greatest passions available to man in order to avoid the inevitable pain that will come.
Puccini has created characters that affect in the deepest possible way - even if I had wanted to do my presentation afterward, there is no way that I could have.
The Phantom of the Opera - AHB
I went to "The Phantom of the Opera" at the Statni Opera House simply out of convenience. My family was in town over Fall break, and this just happened to be the show that was playing the night we wanted to go. I knew very little of the background, and at first I was surprised to find out that this was not the familiar American version (Lloyd Webber's musical).
I was struck by Van der Leeuw's claim that dance is the original, and hence most sacred art form. On an intellectual level I have almost no understanding of dance, of all Van der Leeuw's sections it is probably the most foreign to me. At the same time, I love rhythmic music and the way that body moves to the vibrations of sound. It's funny yet sad how dancing has been has become either an super-sexualized movement entirely devoid of art or a bland and meaningless form of individual expression, I just don't buy that garbage. It's almost as if the simplicity of dance makes it the easiest art to manipulate.
I know ballet gets a pretty rep for being boring, and I'm sure at least someone fell asleep during the performance. But I had a really easy time engaging with the characters and the story. I find it incredible that movement alone can be used to tell a story with so many different emotions. One thing that I dislike in Van der Leeuw's book is that he separates drama and dance become the former displays both movement AND countermovement, which the latter lacks. Thinking about this performance makes me question this conclusion. I don't see how you can have a dance involving multiple people that doesn't display countermovement. The most severe example I can think of is Argentine Tango, which actually requires improvisation. This tango has basic steps like any other, but either partner can switch the motions at any time by giving his or her partner physical signals. If dance was merely movement there could be no story.
Dance is a really interesting way of exploring relationships. Christine alternates dances with the Phantom and the Vicomte, and through these interactions she seems to develop some sort of love/affection for each. As we all know, she ultimately chooses the Vicomte, sending the Phantom into a rage. The drama subsides when the Phantom realizes that he cannot possess Christine with fear the way he does with nearly everyone else. The Phantom's subsequent decision to let her and the Vicomte go shows that love is not an excuse for ownership; like any good dance, it is impossible without the interplay of movement and countermovement.
I was struck by Van der Leeuw's claim that dance is the original, and hence most sacred art form. On an intellectual level I have almost no understanding of dance, of all Van der Leeuw's sections it is probably the most foreign to me. At the same time, I love rhythmic music and the way that body moves to the vibrations of sound. It's funny yet sad how dancing has been has become either an super-sexualized movement entirely devoid of art or a bland and meaningless form of individual expression, I just don't buy that garbage. It's almost as if the simplicity of dance makes it the easiest art to manipulate.
I know ballet gets a pretty rep for being boring, and I'm sure at least someone fell asleep during the performance. But I had a really easy time engaging with the characters and the story. I find it incredible that movement alone can be used to tell a story with so many different emotions. One thing that I dislike in Van der Leeuw's book is that he separates drama and dance become the former displays both movement AND countermovement, which the latter lacks. Thinking about this performance makes me question this conclusion. I don't see how you can have a dance involving multiple people that doesn't display countermovement. The most severe example I can think of is Argentine Tango, which actually requires improvisation. This tango has basic steps like any other, but either partner can switch the motions at any time by giving his or her partner physical signals. If dance was merely movement there could be no story.
Dance is a really interesting way of exploring relationships. Christine alternates dances with the Phantom and the Vicomte, and through these interactions she seems to develop some sort of love/affection for each. As we all know, she ultimately chooses the Vicomte, sending the Phantom into a rage. The drama subsides when the Phantom realizes that he cannot possess Christine with fear the way he does with nearly everyone else. The Phantom's subsequent decision to let her and the Vicomte go shows that love is not an excuse for ownership; like any good dance, it is impossible without the interplay of movement and countermovement.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Amanda- Orange, the color of the future
I love Mucha! I think I could have spent all day in the gallery and there are so many things I want to say here, but let me start with my first reactions to his unique style.
His intricately detailed lithographs are absolutely stunning especially considering the limited technology he had when they were created. The fact that each work had to be individually carved out of one or two stones and then carefully painted on was incredibly interesting to me, and made me appreciate their apparent beauty even more.
The next thing that I really enjoyed about Mucha was his evident love for the Czech people in all of his work. He incorporated a lot of old pagan gods and symbols of the country throughout his posters, incorporating the history of his country, and all leading up to his great ‘Slav epic.’ I found his promotion of nationalism to be quite admirable and very necessary for the rebuilding of the physical Czech nation, as well as the hearts and minds of the people.
Beyond this, the other thing that made me appreciate his work even more was his dedication to not only his own people, but to all people. One of the little bios posted about him in the gallery had the quote from him on this topic: “we must live in the hope that all mankind will become closer.” Even though it was said that his commercial work was so successful, this message came across to me in all of his amazing work. The unique aspect of poster art, allowed the masses to see his work everywhere, not just those who could afford to go to galleries or to the theater and this set the stage for Mucha to create a great imprint on the world.
For example, the work “Loterie Narodni jednoty” depicting a young schoolgirl carrying books and pencils, created a great and haunting impression on me. The description written under the poster read that the girl ‘looks accusingly at the viewers demanding from them support both for her education and for ailing cechia,’ and I couldn’t have said it better myself. Mucha used his fame in commercial success to make people pay attention to a greater message, and that is something that is incredibly admirable and humble in a man with such great talent. He could have easily just continued to work on theater posters and portraits of the famous and partied with the wealthy. By going down this path he still would have been remembered for being a great artist, but instead he chose to remind his country all that they should be proud of, and all they should aspire to be, and for that he will also be remembered as a great person, in addition to an amazing artist.
His intricately detailed lithographs are absolutely stunning especially considering the limited technology he had when they were created. The fact that each work had to be individually carved out of one or two stones and then carefully painted on was incredibly interesting to me, and made me appreciate their apparent beauty even more.
The next thing that I really enjoyed about Mucha was his evident love for the Czech people in all of his work. He incorporated a lot of old pagan gods and symbols of the country throughout his posters, incorporating the history of his country, and all leading up to his great ‘Slav epic.’ I found his promotion of nationalism to be quite admirable and very necessary for the rebuilding of the physical Czech nation, as well as the hearts and minds of the people.
Beyond this, the other thing that made me appreciate his work even more was his dedication to not only his own people, but to all people. One of the little bios posted about him in the gallery had the quote from him on this topic: “we must live in the hope that all mankind will become closer.” Even though it was said that his commercial work was so successful, this message came across to me in all of his amazing work. The unique aspect of poster art, allowed the masses to see his work everywhere, not just those who could afford to go to galleries or to the theater and this set the stage for Mucha to create a great imprint on the world.
For example, the work “Loterie Narodni jednoty” depicting a young schoolgirl carrying books and pencils, created a great and haunting impression on me. The description written under the poster read that the girl ‘looks accusingly at the viewers demanding from them support both for her education and for ailing cechia,’ and I couldn’t have said it better myself. Mucha used his fame in commercial success to make people pay attention to a greater message, and that is something that is incredibly admirable and humble in a man with such great talent. He could have easily just continued to work on theater posters and portraits of the famous and partied with the wealthy. By going down this path he still would have been remembered for being a great artist, but instead he chose to remind his country all that they should be proud of, and all they should aspire to be, and for that he will also be remembered as a great person, in addition to an amazing artist.
Amanda- "Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe"
I thought the discussion in class the other day about the 'correct' way to find meaning in art was incredibly interesting, and sparked an immediate thought in my mind about something I recently saw on my trip to Berlin. We were talking about the question of which is more important, knowing the historical context of a work of art, and the artist’s intention or the individual viewer’s personal interpretation. I next thought about the interaction between both of these options, and the idea of the audience influencing the meaning of the work, adding to the concept the artist first had. I think this relationship between the artist and their audience is quite important in the process of all art, and essentially the point that it is created. The dialogue and the connection that is formed between an artist, a piece of art, and the audience of art is a specific link that can not be compared to anything else in the world.
A great example that I’ve come across of this interesting interaction between an artist and their audience is the holocaust memorial in Berlin. The memorial itself is composed of dozens of rows of large concrete blocks of differing heights, loosely arranged from shortest to tallest. The ground which the stones are arranged on is uneven and forms a wave-like pattern heading backwards from the front of the memorial. One of the most interesting things about the structure itself is that there is no plaque or sign stating what it is, it is just a large structure taking up about a whole city block directly in the middle of where Berlin’s business and tourist districts intersect.
This structure was only finished 4 years ago, after the city went through a long process of deciding the appropriate way of tackling such an important monument, they settled on the idea of holding a contest. The winner, Peter Eisenmen, designed the memorial in this ambiguous fashion very intently, which is why it was selected as the winner. I was told that many people interpret the stones to be tomb stones of those who perished at the hands of the Nazis, while others seem to think they symbolize the rows of mindless soldiers involved in the horror of the holocaust. I found the most interesting explanation of the work to be the gradual incline of the stones to represent a sort of bar graph of how such a horrific event came to be. Specifically, the small leaps from anti-Semitic comments and beliefs, to discrimination, all the way up to mass murders in concentration camps.
There was a lot of controversy before the memorial was created because some people thought it would be more appropriate to provide a free shuttle to one of the near by concentration camps. After much consideration, the city decided to stick with the concept of a physical monument in the city because this way everyone in Berlin had to see it, they couldn’t chose to not get on one of those buses and ignore it. By placing the monument here, the city spoke volumes about their past, present and the near future. This monument symbolizes more than all the lives that were lost, it exhibits the immense progress the people of Berlin have made and their apparent choice to pick up the pieces and rebuild, while not brushing aside their history.
It is not quite clear what was intended by Eisenmen other than the fact that he wanted to break free from the structure of traditional monuments and he everyone to create their own meaning in the memorial, which is why seeing this work in person was so fascinating to me. I think the city of Berlin and the artist, went about this with a great mindset and did a fantastic job of tackling such a hard task of creating a Holocaust memorial in the city where most of the destruction began. By letting the people search for meaning and wrestle with it themselves there is much more depth and meaning in the work. It exposes the immense power and beauty of art that nothing else could come close to touching which is, to me, one of the most amazing things to be a part of in the world.
A great example that I’ve come across of this interesting interaction between an artist and their audience is the holocaust memorial in Berlin. The memorial itself is composed of dozens of rows of large concrete blocks of differing heights, loosely arranged from shortest to tallest. The ground which the stones are arranged on is uneven and forms a wave-like pattern heading backwards from the front of the memorial. One of the most interesting things about the structure itself is that there is no plaque or sign stating what it is, it is just a large structure taking up about a whole city block directly in the middle of where Berlin’s business and tourist districts intersect.
This structure was only finished 4 years ago, after the city went through a long process of deciding the appropriate way of tackling such an important monument, they settled on the idea of holding a contest. The winner, Peter Eisenmen, designed the memorial in this ambiguous fashion very intently, which is why it was selected as the winner. I was told that many people interpret the stones to be tomb stones of those who perished at the hands of the Nazis, while others seem to think they symbolize the rows of mindless soldiers involved in the horror of the holocaust. I found the most interesting explanation of the work to be the gradual incline of the stones to represent a sort of bar graph of how such a horrific event came to be. Specifically, the small leaps from anti-Semitic comments and beliefs, to discrimination, all the way up to mass murders in concentration camps.
There was a lot of controversy before the memorial was created because some people thought it would be more appropriate to provide a free shuttle to one of the near by concentration camps. After much consideration, the city decided to stick with the concept of a physical monument in the city because this way everyone in Berlin had to see it, they couldn’t chose to not get on one of those buses and ignore it. By placing the monument here, the city spoke volumes about their past, present and the near future. This monument symbolizes more than all the lives that were lost, it exhibits the immense progress the people of Berlin have made and their apparent choice to pick up the pieces and rebuild, while not brushing aside their history.
It is not quite clear what was intended by Eisenmen other than the fact that he wanted to break free from the structure of traditional monuments and he everyone to create their own meaning in the memorial, which is why seeing this work in person was so fascinating to me. I think the city of Berlin and the artist, went about this with a great mindset and did a fantastic job of tackling such a hard task of creating a Holocaust memorial in the city where most of the destruction began. By letting the people search for meaning and wrestle with it themselves there is much more depth and meaning in the work. It exposes the immense power and beauty of art that nothing else could come close to touching which is, to me, one of the most amazing things to be a part of in the world.
Organ Grinder
Heart Pounding Music
Garrett Lambur
We recently heard a special performance in the Strahov Monastery on the same organ that Mozart composed on. It was heart pounding, literally. When he used the pedals to create the massive chords the whole church began vibrating. The performance was moving and beautiful, drastic and impressive, and scary and awe-inspiring. I can understand why they use the organ within the Church, it makes a human being feel small before that amount of sound. Not only does it succeed in making a human feel small but it is music at the same time, not a tangible piece of art but nothing more than sound waves in the air. You cannot touch it but can only listen and feel it. The church was intelligent in using the organ to enforce the idea a human is small before God specifically within a church. It can create the Mysterium Tremendum that Otto identifies.
Otto also talks about where exactly in music that a human feels the most of the numenious. He states that there needs to be a pause in the music long enough to “hear the silence” (pg 70). He goes on to state that in Bach’s Mass in B minor the quiet structure that dies away pianissimo helps to create the mysterium. I believe that some of this is true. A piece can be made more impressive by making sure there is significant difference between soft and loud, this is done by making the quiet parts softer. As a player you reach point where playing any louder begins to make the instrument sound worse and lose it correct tone. Thus to make the louder sound louder without losing quality you make the quiet more quiet. But it is after this that I begin to disagree with Otto. A piece of music to me is at its most moving with the crescendo to an impressive chord. As with the Organ I felt most moved in a religious manner, whether it be mysterium or tremendum or both, when he was playing the massive chords that shook the church. I am not saying that during the quieter parts it is impossible to notice any mysterium tremendum but I usually feel more during the thundering parts. Some would say that it is right after this, when you can still hear the echo of the note setting in as it quiets down is more impressive. But as my past in playing music and being involved in those loud notes I view this time as time where you either hold your breath or catch your breath. During either my mind is not focused on the quiet setting in but on “thank you sweet sweet oxygen!” Some may disagree but personally I love to hear the massive overlaid chords played extremely loud and it is at that moment that the music most moves me toward whatever it may be.
Garrett Lambur
We recently heard a special performance in the Strahov Monastery on the same organ that Mozart composed on. It was heart pounding, literally. When he used the pedals to create the massive chords the whole church began vibrating. The performance was moving and beautiful, drastic and impressive, and scary and awe-inspiring. I can understand why they use the organ within the Church, it makes a human being feel small before that amount of sound. Not only does it succeed in making a human feel small but it is music at the same time, not a tangible piece of art but nothing more than sound waves in the air. You cannot touch it but can only listen and feel it. The church was intelligent in using the organ to enforce the idea a human is small before God specifically within a church. It can create the Mysterium Tremendum that Otto identifies.
Otto also talks about where exactly in music that a human feels the most of the numenious. He states that there needs to be a pause in the music long enough to “hear the silence” (pg 70). He goes on to state that in Bach’s Mass in B minor the quiet structure that dies away pianissimo helps to create the mysterium. I believe that some of this is true. A piece can be made more impressive by making sure there is significant difference between soft and loud, this is done by making the quiet parts softer. As a player you reach point where playing any louder begins to make the instrument sound worse and lose it correct tone. Thus to make the louder sound louder without losing quality you make the quiet more quiet. But it is after this that I begin to disagree with Otto. A piece of music to me is at its most moving with the crescendo to an impressive chord. As with the Organ I felt most moved in a religious manner, whether it be mysterium or tremendum or both, when he was playing the massive chords that shook the church. I am not saying that during the quieter parts it is impossible to notice any mysterium tremendum but I usually feel more during the thundering parts. Some would say that it is right after this, when you can still hear the echo of the note setting in as it quiets down is more impressive. But as my past in playing music and being involved in those loud notes I view this time as time where you either hold your breath or catch your breath. During either my mind is not focused on the quiet setting in but on “thank you sweet sweet oxygen!” Some may disagree but personally I love to hear the massive overlaid chords played extremely loud and it is at that moment that the music most moves me toward whatever it may be.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Organ as Mysterium Tremendum
BOOM. The first, thunderous chords resounded through the basilica and my body instinctively jerked. The "minor-keyed" opening coupled with the cold and fairly empty church frightened me, and I was instantly struck with a thought: “mysterium tremendum.” The beautiful organ at the Strahov Monastery continued to play, and I contemplated Otto’s ideas of the holiness of God as expressed through mysterium tremendum. Yes, the organ seemed to fit and I concluded that these grand organs in the great church basilicas were used to convey the numinous! Along with candles and incense, I really think the organ is another communicator of the holy.
Otto describes mysterium tremendum as an element of “awefulness,” of “absolute unapproachability,” “absolute overpoweringness.” It is wholly other, fascinating, and daunting. As I listened to the organ, I sat in awe of the tremendous instrument and the overpowering beauty created by the melodious singing of the pipes. The music of the organ seemed to fill the whole room, and as it moved between incredibly loud parts and quiet, more melodious sections, I continued to contemplate the tremendum of the experience. The sheer volume created a sense of wonder in me. The stanzas in a minor key conveyed the mysterious to me, and I think another aspect of mystery was present in that I couldn’t see the organist, nor most of the pipes. Even if I could have, however, I think it would have remained a mysterious element because it is difficult for my mind to fully comprehend how all these pipes of varying sizes create different notes, and how the small, ivory keys the organist plays control the entire instrument, which spans the width of the church!
Reflecting on the experience, the contrast between that church and my own church in America comes to mind. I think our less ornate, Protestant churches have their benefits, but they generally do not inspire feelings of creature-consciousness that follow an experience with the numen, as described by Otto. I have come to appreciate that aspect of the older European churches, and was delighted to find the organ –an instrument I have never been particularly fond of— to be an excellent revelation of the mysterium tremendum. I feel like it is a true expression of the numinous because the experience of hearing it played sent my thoughts directly to the mysterious tremendum and subsequently the holy, and there they remained throughout the duration of the magnificent music.
eks
Otto describes mysterium tremendum as an element of “awefulness,” of “absolute unapproachability,” “absolute overpoweringness.” It is wholly other, fascinating, and daunting. As I listened to the organ, I sat in awe of the tremendous instrument and the overpowering beauty created by the melodious singing of the pipes. The music of the organ seemed to fill the whole room, and as it moved between incredibly loud parts and quiet, more melodious sections, I continued to contemplate the tremendum of the experience. The sheer volume created a sense of wonder in me. The stanzas in a minor key conveyed the mysterious to me, and I think another aspect of mystery was present in that I couldn’t see the organist, nor most of the pipes. Even if I could have, however, I think it would have remained a mysterious element because it is difficult for my mind to fully comprehend how all these pipes of varying sizes create different notes, and how the small, ivory keys the organist plays control the entire instrument, which spans the width of the church!
Reflecting on the experience, the contrast between that church and my own church in America comes to mind. I think our less ornate, Protestant churches have their benefits, but they generally do not inspire feelings of creature-consciousness that follow an experience with the numen, as described by Otto. I have come to appreciate that aspect of the older European churches, and was delighted to find the organ –an instrument I have never been particularly fond of— to be an excellent revelation of the mysterium tremendum. I feel like it is a true expression of the numinous because the experience of hearing it played sent my thoughts directly to the mysterious tremendum and subsequently the holy, and there they remained throughout the duration of the magnificent music.
eks
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
