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Showing posts with label Museum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Museum. Show all posts

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Recognizing Art

We are the last and only surviving members of the genus Homo. Homo Sapiens or "wise men" refers to humans, but only those that have a highly developed brain, capable of abstract reasoning, language, introspection and problem solving. I consider myself one, in more ways that one.

We like to put labels on things: this is my handle, this is my spout. When get tired of directly labeling, we use comparisons. When we feel the need to go beyond the explicit and implicit comparisons into the poetic, we enter the subjective realm of metaphors. Art exists somewhere in between this continuum. In between the extreme and narrow direct representation labeling, to the highly abstract, non-figurative and symbolic, we have the ability to find an access point into the work. Some works cover more of the continuum which allows for diverse entry points and open different interpretation tangents, where others are much more narrow, offering limited paths of discourse. More so, I find the extremes of this continuum are much more difficult to access aesthetically, and our response becomes more logical, directed, and intellectual.

Defining art is nearly impossible. The artistic fields are no longer clearly defined. The classical arts made it easier for us to distinguish theater, music, visual, and dance. Things that have artistic merit but did not fall into these categorizes are a kind of art: cultural artifacts. Cross-discipline artists, technology, globalization and exponential communication mediums have expanded the realm and continue to challenge the art compass. At the same time, the labels continue to be created as our drive to classify and arrange our world into neat compartments remains a part of our anthropological make-up.

So unless these works are shown to us in context which can easily be recognized as artistic works (i.e. a gallery, museum, performance, etc.), sometimes it can really be difficult to recognize art. The last art essay discussion group at the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, we dove right into the intersection of science in, about and through art. This is not a new concept. I am a believer that cultural contexts always show up in artists genres, so whatever happens to be in the forefront of anthropological development will make an appearance.

We can use science as a tool (as in computer music), as a vehicle (as in photography or film) or as a topic. One could argue that science has always been used as a tool in the creation of instruments (in seeking the most resonant sound and stable scales) and paint (creating colors hues, and textures). Da Vinci's Vitruvian man attempts to explain classical architectural proportions through the canon of proportions. Although some may argue that this is an example of blend between art and science, one could question where this is an illustration for explanation purposes. Artistic merit, or artistic components does not equate to a work of art. For example, I think we could all agree that a toilet bowl cleaner designed by Michael Graves, as pretty as it can be, would not enter the realm of art, unless it was displayed in a box in a museum somewhere.
A retinal exam can produce such gorgeous images that could be confused for art without any further need for manipulation.
Images of the Hubble telescope are fantastic and appear to be beyond the realm of most people's realities, that can explicitly provoke an aesthetic response beyond its documentary and illustrative purposes.

In the discussion group, a participant explained: "if you do something so well that it pushes the envelop of that field, it becomes artistic and can be considered art." I think this measure can be applied sometimes. I recall a discussion on the topic of culinary arts. Some chefs employ such virtuosic techniques in their craft, that combining the presentation with preparation techniques can present something so spectacular and unexpected that it transcends craft. Can cooking then become a performing art of some sort? An interaction between artist and audience where the consumer becomes a performer?
So, does art then become about the original intent of the work? Seems like this would be a natural place to start: the origins. After all, since we always seem to be fascinated with stories, histories and where things came from, it would be logical to conclude that to recognize art you have to look at the intent at the starting point. But that is not always accessible, existent, and practical.

Perhaps that is a reason why there is such diverse art discourse.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Lost in Translation


Globalization is a word that has been around for longer than most people think. Although the origins of the word date back to the late 19th Century, the concept globalization in terms of socio-economic development entered our vernacular in the 1960s.

One can think of the earlier globalization in antiquity as cultures and empires expanded and contracted. Hellenic travels introduced Asian countries to wine, the Silk Road connected East and West, and Christopher Columbus brought the Old World in to the new. Today, living in exponential times, we are faced with perplexing dilemmas. The problems of the future are unknown.

Globalization has also entered the art world. Again, this concept is not new. Puccini's Turandot uses Chinese folklore and traditional sonorities (Orientalism), Dvorak New World is laden with sonorities of Native American melodies, longing for the past with excitement for the future.

I attended the opening of "Your Bright Future: 12 Contemporary Artists form Korea" at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. Pictured here is Bahc Yiso's, died in 2004, "Your Bright Future" which themed and named the exhibition. A collection of lamps shining bright light on a white wall, questions the complexity of the excitement of raising stars while juxtaposing a blank wall of nothingness. Is there a future? Is there a bright future? Will it have meaning?

A lecture preceded the opening drinkfest where we learned about the overall concept of Korean state-sponsored art versus the "people." In it, a general commentary of art not necessarily communicating in a one-way direction, but more of an interactive and experiential dialogue. Cultural context was not necessarily needed to participate. Well, of course, this concept is not universal, but I'd argue, impossible to achieve. I do not believe anyone can just eradicate and negate the importance of cultural context. As human beings, we come with histories, contexts, psychological baggage, preset traditions, rebellious tendencies, all which exists within the confines of our own realities.

Billboard art is present in Houston. Whether through the recent works of Karyn Olivier's "Inbound" and now through this exhibit which also extended into this medium. Billboards are interesting. Although their primary function is to broadcast information, noticing "Inbound" is quite strange at first. They are somewhat playful, although some claim surreal, I'd argue the works themselves are not surreal, but the experience and medium are. They represent and mimic exactly what is behind them in an effort to make them disappear.

This exhibit also has some billboards associated with it. Below is one of them. Originally found in Seul Korea, it is now on display facing west overlooking 59 and Rosedale. Here is my dilemma. Upon seeing this, my first reaction: I am of course not the target demographic for this sign. In reality, I am. But unfortunately, it is lost in translation. It actually means we are happy. Given that this was meant for an English speaking country, would it have been appropriate to translate it or to provide a translation? Or is the fact that it is Korean provide us with more information. If so, one cannot take a piece like this outside of its cultural existence.


The concept of globalization is also clear in Do Ho Suh "Fallen Star 1/5". Two cultures collide. A violent crash of a traditional home in Korea with a traditional Rhode Island apartment is a biographical commentary on the artists travels and education. The video does not do justice to the sublime and realistic detail. It's a must see, especially for those of us whose inclination would be to dust off the old Barbie and Ken Doll and play house.

I did not get a chance to spend more time and interact with the work. That will be my intention in the next coming weeks. I encourage you to do the same. More information on the MFAH website.


Thursday, November 12, 2009

Cinema Arts: There is a Difference

There is a myriad of arts organizations in Houston. Here is a few cool facts:
  • Fourth largest Museum District in the nation
  • One of the few cities with major companies in the four disciplines: ballet, opera, symphony, and theater
  • 21,000 arts events annually
  • The arts supports 14,115 full time jobs in Houston
So when another one is added to our mix, I rejoice in our cities diverse offerings, and get excited at the prospect of learning and being exposed to another range of creative pursuits. Somehow, the addition of a well structured film festival adds yet another badge to our city's diverse offerings: Houston Cinema Arts Society.

The Houston Cinema Arts Society 2009 Cinema Arts Festival Houston offers a wide range of films curated by Richard Herskowitz and goes on until Sunday, November 15th. Click here for the schedule.

Film festivals are sexy. Somehow, I have the perception that people are more open to experimental films than they are about today's art music, visual or performance art. Film enjoys a unique place in that it is usually introduced as popular, then our taste usually develops into the more artistic genres. I took sometime yesterday to preview Houston Cinema Arts Society H BOX. A portable screening room by Portuguese/French architect Faustine Didier Fiuza Faustino, it is currently stationed until the end of the festival on November 15 in the Alabama Theater on Shepherd and Alabama.

The H BOX is beyond cool. A small room with mini bean bags, it plays a rotating diverse offering of shorts ranging from 2 to 14 minutes ranging from quirky, symbolic, to strong commentary on sociopolitical ideologies. A great place to get comfy and chat with those around you. Amidst my favorite ones was a short by Yael Bartana that deals with post WWII Poland economic and social demographic make-up.

Yesterday, I attended their grand opening reception at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston where we viewed "Me and Orson Welles" by Houston filmmaker Richard Linklater, starring Zac Efron (from High School Musical) amidst an incredible cast of UK artists. Hearing Richard speak really reminds us that there is a very big difference between movies and cinema art. The best line I can remember (not 100% accurate I am sure):
Wealth. Travel. Fame. I can take you to movies that have all that.
Also, Linklater redefines "quadruple space." You know, to enable writers to publish their novels, romantic scenes end with. And they went to bed. Quadruple space.



There are amazing film resources in Houston that allow Houstonians to explore film all year long. Aurora Picture Show has an amazing collection of film, video and media with screenings all year long. SWAMP (South West Alternative Media Project) promotes regional film and video since 1977.

Film is sexy. Art is sexy, and most importantly, supporting local arts organizations is beyond hot. Take part. Be Current.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Dialoguing with Retablos at Lawndale

Epiphany 37 about why I love art - I always learn something about the work, about the artist, and about myself. In a world where anything goes, it is an impossible task to define what good art should do. Technology, globalization and the proliferation of performance art has pushed boundaries of the classical beux arts and continues to challenge our own definition. The line is thin and quite subjective.

I still to this day prefer the aesthetic definition of art. I seek connection, meaning, an experience outside my everyday, and a challenge to the status quo. Its quite interesting to have a conversation with a work and heighten your understanding and interpretive abilities. Retablos beg for that conversation. Retablos are small devotional folk paintings most often on tin that traditionally use iconography derived from Catholicism. They traditionally have a narrative quality, often telling a story of hardship and survival with a message of thanks to the sacred entity or saint that help them overcome it: a direct communication between people and the divine.

Lawndale Art Center is currently presenting a huge collection of contemporary retablos by Texas artists and they vary greatly in medium, style, content and purpose. As I walked around the exhibition you are begged to stop and hear the story of them, almost like a room full of interesting people waiting to be heard and discovered. They are all very accessible, using a wide variety of materials and entry points.

Some use humor, and some a combination of recognizable religious icons with a twist. This retablo by Georgia Redonet titled Yes We Can, made me chuckle as it entertained me in so many levels. Although the obvious Obama parallel is unremarkable, the coupling with the symbolism of the laughing buddha, popular folklore maintains that rubbing his belly brings wealth, good luck, and prosperity. The green background to me suggests a grounding in natural elements, while enlightenment comes from a balance of earthly gifts and divine intervention. Prosperity and environmentalism do not have to be equally exclusive. I wonder what the character below the buddha represents? Perhaps an entry point for mindful wondering or a missed opportunity to connect.

Jo Zider's Too Many Lies; So Little Taste brings together religious connotations, humor, and perhaps a touch of sexuality. Often people consider the tongue as the "strongest' muscle in the human body due to speech. It is used to communicate, nourishment and physical pleasure. Personally, I recalled horrific images of my grandmother's favorite dish at Friday night dinner's: Beef tongue. Zider's arrangement of an overcrowding number of tongues would suggest a commentary on the prevalence of dishonesty while dismissing the psychological and nutritional nourishment that properly used tongues can accomplish. Makes one think of white lies that often are told to escape awkwardness, often to complicate situations to an exponential degree. The composition is highly unique, although it did make me think about the Rolling Stones iconic tongue as well.

This retablo is unmistakably a riot. Tequila is synonymous with the ultimate party drink and shot. Teresa Rubino's Vivir la buena vida despues de (live the good life after...) leaves us with an open ended suggestion as to what we are to accomplish before we live a good life. Although my first thought was a strong message of a suggestion to seize life, it can also be inferred that careless narcissist-like partying can lead to death and a shortened life. The skeleton reaching for an empy glass and a closed full tequila bottle could also identify a missed opportunity for enjoyment as well. At any rate, the use of complimentary colors, blue and red-rust gives it a pleasing, bold and joyful appearance.

This are three of hundreds of retablos worth stopping and searching for that inner dialogue. Part of their 22nd Dia de los Muertos series programs, Lawndale Art Center will have these up until November 7th. Check them out.

Lawndale Art Center
4912 Main Street
Houston, Texas 77002
713.528.5858


Sunday, October 18, 2009

Finding Stuff to do in Houston

I make my rounds. I try to see what time will allow me to see. I generally do not discriminate between the art disciplines, although I often tend to enjoy dance performances above all. For me, performing arts requires focus. Visual arts allows me to wonder as generally, the piece won't change while I am swimming in my own sea of unconscious and conscious thought waves and tides. I have come to the conclusion that Houston has incredible creative talent, although sometimes not as visible, I love that social media trends has allowed some of the smaller non-profits and artists to be as visible as some with the largest marketing budgets.

I have to put a plug for two organizations that keep me challenged and continue to introduce me to incredible folks. There are also additional websites I frequent that give me helpful information:

Spacetaker provides artists and small non-profits access to economic, educational and networking opportunities. I often consult the Culture Guide for happenings. I make a point of going to the Artist SPEAKeasy on a monthly basis. Artists have a chance to present informally and dialogue about their work, discourse, and creative processes. Aside from being a fun forum, you also get to meet fantastic personalities that seek similar experiences. To stay current, the Culture Wire will keep you current on what's new and exciting in Houston's arts scene. If you get a chance to meet the folks behind the scenes, you are in for a real treat.

Fresh Arts Coalition is a collaboration of original and thought-provoking arts group and markets the importance of the arts builds audience through increased visibility. The calendar is an impressive listing of their affiliated groups and will help you keep current on what's happening right now. When I show this website to friends, they are often surprised as to how much really happens in Houston. Come on y'all. Houston rocks.

I also like to consult ArtsHound, an online resource for cultural information for the Houston. I am also quite excited about Culture Map, which is supposed to launch in November 2009. A new online "mapzine" I am always on board for new cool ways to distribute information. Recently, Shelby Hodges, society reporter and long time columnist for the Houston Chronicle joined the Culture Map Team. This is HUGE!

Of course, I always directly with the organizations I love. Whether it's the MFAH, CAMH, Opera, Ballet, Symphony, Stages Repertory Theater, and the list goes on and on (so forgive me if I left anyone or anything out). But I am so thankful there are organizations out there that challenge me and keep me current of Houston's wide array of happenings, people, and experiences.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

The Moon, Cheese, and the first Sci-Fi Film

Less is more although I have a good friend that consistently says more is more, and sometimes, I have to agree. Lately, my trend has been to see less, but to spend more actively looking. It's amazing what we can miss just by not noticing or paying attention to what's right in front of us.

So, I have been going back to a small exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, but just doing a couple of rooms at a time in an effort to read, learn and retain. "Houston: Tranquility Base Here. The Eagle Has Landed" opened just a few weeks ago. It is a varied collection of paintings, treatises, photography and installations that trace 500 years of fascination with the moon.

Last time I browsed the exhibit halls, I noticed a flat screen television but had no inclination to sit down and watch the full sequence of what was being shown. This time around I did. I was delighted to learn that what was shown, was considered the first science-fiction film in 1902 by Georges Melies. "Trip to the Moon" is in some ways ridiculously hilarious, in other ways signifies what man has the ability to create in order to explain the unknown. The symbology is thought provoking, but the general theme of man not being able to harmonize with unknown cultures is a theme that is quite applicable and arguably more important today.

Having recently read Dan Brown's lost symbol, I am in a quest to derive, decipher, and perhaps invent meaning in seemingly empty and inanimate objects. This certainly provided food for thought when the rocket lands right in the cheese-like moon's eye: man cannot explore without destroying something in either a large or small scale. On October 9th, Nasa bombed the moon to create a 5 mile crater to seek for water. It has caused some controversy as it violates space law prohibiting environmental modification of celestial bodies. I have not been able to locate follow-up information to see what was found.

The movie is only 10 minutes, has curious music accompaniement. If you are a classical music lover, you will recognize the tunes. I have posted it below


Thursday, October 8, 2009

Anna Netrebko in the Target Bathroom Stall

Although not the sexiest and most eccentric topic, I had a funny experience as I put into action my smart shopper hat and ventured in to Target (where the smart trendy shoppers go) and accompanied the female contingency of my family as they searched for baby clothes.

The phrase "everything happens for a reason" is grossly overused by many that think of themselves as enlightened. I am tired of hearing it. It's cliche, banal, and just plain blah. I think it's time that the new generation comes up with a similar karmic praxis or stop pretending to believe in it all together.

As I decided to take a relief break in the pseudo clean Target facilities, I heard an angelic voice that usually does not make a formal appearance when I am discoursing with myself, as I am incapable of such sublime, transcendental and sinfully delicious imaginary vocalization. Plus it was a woman, and typically the voices in my head tend to me a little more gender ambiguous.

I came to the realization that the sound was coming from my pocket, and in my pocket lay at rest my beloved iPhone. Somehow, I had hit the music button and like the power of the force, it had coincidentally and "randomly" chosen the unmistakable and striking voice of Anna Netrebko, (photo by Esther Haase) a soprano of outstanding purity, "a virtuoso singer of endless versatility smoldering presence and inimitable sound, who happens to be fashion-model gorgeous."

I had just been reading an essay by Nikos Papastergiadis, Professor of Cultural Studies and Media & Communication at the University of Melbourne, on the concept of the everyday. Although not a thesis article but a conversation of the purity of art theory, analysis and works through the eyes of the everyday, it presented a wide continuum of possibility from the idiocies and banalities of everyday life to the boring political correctness, transcendental and academicist aesthetic approaches. In essence, from the seemingly insignificant to the marvelous.

High concept articles always provide for good conversation. At the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, there is a lovely mix of personalities, experiences, and backgrounds that enrich the communal adventure. Contradictions ruled the essay and the discussion, in search for meaning or a normative approach to three aspects: art theory, analysis, and art creation. The purity of art was in question. If indeed we "consider art from the perspective of the everyday is to stress that the measure of art is not found by borrowing the yardsticks of other discourses, bur rather from its articulation and practices from everyday life." And since the access to "life" is always through language, culture, and psyche, the interpretation of art is as a result impure.

So here I am in the bathroom, and you cannot get more banal, everday, or outside the realm of political correctness. Listening to Anna Netrebko, a completely marvelous trancendetal voice singing "Ah! non Credea Mirarti" from Bellini's La Sonnambula is a perfect example of the other extreme of the continuum. This polarity woke me up and I thought: if everything happens for a reason, I should probably pay attention to why I am hearing this now, and perhaps if the lyrics have any meaning. Incidentally, it starts with a flute.
Oh, I didn't believe to see you
so quickly extinct, o flowers;
you have passed away like love
that one day only lasted.

Perhaps new life
my tears will bring to you
but to revive love
my tears, o no, cannot

O, inconceivable human thought
a wave of contentment I am full:
In my feelings I can hardly believe
you assure me, o my treasure (darling)

O, embrace me, and always together,
always united in a single hope,
of the world, we live in
we will make a heaven of love
Perhaps the most significant line as I am consistently attempting to reinvent myself, is the explanation and human tears can bring new life. The individual has the ability to change ourselves and impact others. Human thought is assuring. However, love is our immediate beyond control.

There are many possible meaningful and significant extrapolations here. Hope you find one as well.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Growing Up

Lately, I have been obsessed with feeling like a tourist at home. It is often that visitors visit Houston's best while the locals concentrate of work and no play. Ever think how ridiculous it is to wait until we are out of town to enjoy the things that other cities have but seldom make time an effort to enjoy what we have right here?

A place I love to frequent is the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston Sculpture Garden at the North East corner of Bissonnet and Montrose. Especially during temperate weather, one can spend many hours being enchanted, confused, and perhaps a little perplexed by the works on display here. Two bronze sculptures always take my breath away. Rodin "The Walking Man" is rich in texture, playing on light and shadows. I remember distinctly my art teacher Lucy Durkin explaining how Rodin makes her just want to touch the works. The texture and play is completely sensual. http://www.mfah.org/sculpturegarden/artworks.asp?pid=1&aid=1

Matisse also has 4 works on display here. Back I, II, III and IV and spanning 21 years of artistic history. The portray the artists concept growth from 1909 to 1930. It gives me a sense of the character growth as the emphasis from anatomical and mannerist representation is abandoned in favor of a formalized and soft geometric approach.

Do you know how you feel when you look at pictures of yourself from 10 years ago? It is amazing to remember where you were, how you were, and more importantly, how you were feeling (although sometimes what were you thinking is appropriate). I feel these give us a deep look inside the artistic concept, and trace trends over 21 years.





Friday, September 18, 2009

Art and Jerry Springer

It can be plausible to assume that some may find the classical arts somewhat boring. Perhaps due to a lack of syntax or one's inability to understand arts language, it can lead to feeling quite disconnected from the aesthetic experience.

I have been in a tear to feel like I am a tourist in my own city. Strange concept right? True. We often do not take advantage of the things we have right here right now, and wait until we are in strange far away lands to venture to museums, happenings, and the such. Well, today things change for you. I am giving you permission, actually, I am challenging you to behave like a tourist and explore where you are. Right here, right now.

I have been attending the "gallery talks" at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. These are short tours, 1 hour at the most focusing on one subject matter, sometimes even just on one work. They are led by volunteer docents that have a love and passion for the arts, and make the tour fun, accessible, and educational. I learned something terribly naughty and reminded me that sometimes there is such drama surrounding the arts, that the history behind certain works is just worthy of it's own Jerry Springer show. Here is the story of Maurice Utrillo.

His mother Suzanne Valadon (changed her name from Marie-Clementine) became an artists model after a fall from a circus trapeze ended her career as an acrobat. She figuratively and literaly took of her clothes for infamous personalities like Berthe Morisot, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and later Edgar Degas who became her mentor.Out of these affairs came Maurice, and the following anecdotal story. Included is her self-portrait on display at MFAH.

"After Maurice was born to Suzanne Valadon, she went to Renoir, for whom she had modeled nine months previously. Renoir looked at the baby and said, 'He can't be mine, the color is terrible!' Next she went to Degas, for whom she had also modeled. He said, 'He can't be mine, the form is terrible!' At a cafe, Valadon saw an artist she knew named Miguel Utrillo, to whom she spilled her woes. The man told her to call the baby Utrillo: 'I would be glad to put my name to the work of either Renoir or Degas." ('Parting With the Family van Gogh' in the New York Times, April 22, 2006)

The painting below is by Maurice Utrillo (1883-1955) circa 1914, oil on canvas and on display at MFAH. To add to twists, the central house pictured here in the middle of the street (rue Mont-Cenis) belonged to Mimi Pinson, an eccentric woman appearing in many literary and musical works, who happened to be the model for Puccini's La Boheme.

A little drama is always good in terms of art. In this case, it heightened my enjoyment of seemingly beautiful yet somewhat boring and unremarkable works. Reminds me of Daniel Pink's "A Whole New Mind" where he hypothesizes that due to the three A's, Asia, Automation, and Abundance (remedial jobs can be outsourced, technology makes repetitive tasks easy, and we have more "things" than ever in history), we are drawn to seek a deeper meaning. In that search, we play. In play, we tell stories. The same can be applied to people. Often we dismiss based on physical assumptions. Rich stories, histories (whether dramatic or not) and experiences can provide us so many more life lessons.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Beethoven as a Foreign Film

In an art essay discussion group at the Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, we recently discoursed over the concept of "pilgrimage" to view, experience, and have an aesthetic experience with a work. The author was mainly citing works that are site specific, meaning, those that cannot be moved out of the space in which they currently exist for either physical reasons or due to aesthetic loss due to spatial context.

For better or for worse, I tend to always correlate my understanding of visual art to how I conceptualize musical syntax. I made a comparison that looking at the Mona Lisa is like listening to Beethoven, while looking (or visiting) Nancy Holt's Sun Tunels (pictured here) is like listening to John Cage. The latter asks the participant to play a more active role in the interaction with the work in order to appreciate it, understand it and respond appropriately and aesthetically. They are also site and time specific. Meaning, the interpretation of the work is dependent on the circumstances and the space at that particular time. On retrospect, I should have also listed George Crumb.

At the risk of sounding elitist (which I did), I responded at the suggestion that some would find Beethoven's music boring. In that case I proposed, there would most likely be a lack of understanding and knowledge of his musical language and syntax. I equate this to someone saying they don't get Shakespeare. Let me clarify that I do not believe that all types of music can be thought of as language, just like not all art is dependent upon its surroundings and context for interpretation, appreciation and understanding.

On my way home I came up with the following understanding and appreciation metaphor. Let's think of a Beethoven Symphony as an Italian (or any foreign) film. We can:

1. Watch it without sound
This to me would be the equivalent of hearing it for the first time without any prior knowledge of classical music syntax, whether conscious or unconscious. There would be some basic understanding of the story line by visual depiction only but a lot of the nuances, themes, secondary plots, and sounds that are not related to the picture would be missed. Also, certain parts would make completely sense while others would remain a undecipherable. I also compare this to reading only sections of a book at random and trying to get full understanding from this experiment. Being that music occurs at a specific moment, it would be quite understandable that the viewer would tune in and out and miss key components that add to the character and plot development.

2. Watch it with sound but with no knowledge of the language or one related to (like spanish and Italian)
I consider this like hearing it and being familiar with classical music in general terms. In this case, external sounds and general speech nuances will give us a better understanding of the expression behind the meaning. Certain sounds are universal. We can easily identify certain emotions but in some cases, without understanding their raison d'être. Scenes where language is used mainly for plot development will be completely lost. In relation to music, this would be like not being able to recognize a theme and its variations.

3. Watch it with subtitles
I equate this to knowing basic music syntax, music theory harmony and general musical forms. Although appreciation can happen at the above levels, I believe true understanding perhaps begins here. Still, we miss the nuances of the original language, missing any specific idiosyncratic linguistic attributes that are lost in translation.

4. Watch it with full command of the academic version of the language
A full grasp, command, and understanding of tonal systems, perhaps with a lack of historical context of the norms of the time period, this is like understanding academically every line in the movie, but missing colloquialisms that may (or may not) enhance its communicative efficacy.

5. Watch it with full command of the colloquial language and its context
Perhaps this is where understanding, appreciating, interpreting, and aesthetic interaction meet. Although this is perhaps an utopian idea, it is the place to strive for to decipher and understand Beethoven's syntax. I think those that have experienced it on period instruments could attest for the difference in sound and affect this imposes on the performer and listener.


I am reminded myself of the many times when I am sitting next to my better half, who speaks several languages, watching television in an idiom I do not understand, stopping and asking every 5 seconds: what are they saying? What is happening? I am sure he finds this extremely annoying. I grasp somethings, but most is lost. With movies being mostly representational (you recognize concretely what you see) and music being mainly symbolic (through abstracting expression), I think it would be easy to adopt a feeling of appreciation without understanding.

I am reminded of Partner's in Building (a Houston custom builder) website a year or so ago. The flash site started with a series of exterior and interior pictures of their product with an instrumental version of Madonna's "Ray of Light." Those not familiar with the lyrics of the song, would miss that the chorus repeats "and I feel like I just got home." I would argue without this knowledge one would miss a rather large part of the presentation's message.

Am I being elitist by suggesting the same with music? Or perhaps just realistic?




Finding my Perfect 5th

The Rothko Chapel never seizes to amaze me. Founded by John and Dominique de Menil, it was dedicated in 1971 as an intimate sanctuary available to people of every belief. A modern meditative environment inspired by the mural canvasses of American abstract expressionist Mark Rothko, the Chapel welcomes thousands of visitors each year, people of every faith and from all parts of the world.

I frequent their lectures series "Twelfth Moments of Meditation" where leaders of a myriad of faiths lead participants in practice. Additionally, it serves as a forum to ask questions about their dogma, specific place in relation to other doctrines, and the leader's personal relationship with the religion. I have attended many, but this one was particularly humorous to me with addition of chant and drumming.

The Nichiren Shu Buddhist Meditation was led by Reverend Myokei Caine-Barrett. The main chant was the title of the Lotus Sutra (a discourse delivered by the Buddha toward the end of his life): Myōhō Renge Kyō. It started as a steady drone, slowly increasing tempo and dynamic level (and pitch) until we suddently stopped. It was highly tantric, somewhat hypnotic, and very very exotic.

The problem came when I was not satisfied chanting in unison, after all, the perfect 5th has a wonderful ring, where the resulting vibrations are strong and almost ticklish. So I ventured and sang, well, hummed the harmony. At first, it felt good, so my hum turned into a strong chant, gradually of course, Then I added a little glisssando to the pitch, after all, it seemed stylistically appropriate, and it was so much fun. As I was engaging myself in more of a musical game, I realized I was missing the whole point.

Of course, by this time, the whole group, including the leader seemed to have modulated to some unrecognizable interval. Well, I should specify, some of the group modulated and some where left behind. I had a lovely Italian lady next to me (who I recognized from last month's Bahai meditation) who decided she was going to stay right in pitch so I struggled to find either her perfect 5th, of the leader's. I noticed my pitch swimming around like a wide nanny goat vibrator until I found a pitch that wasn't terribly horrific. Eventually, everyone modulated, of course, by this time, we had again moved higher to another pitch level. I was doomed.

Well at least I had fun trying. Perhaps I didn't have the aesthetic and spiritual experience I had hoped for, but It was definitely an entertaining experience worth writing about. I did find my perfect 5th, but it wasn't for long.



Wednesday, August 26, 2009

...moving...

In response to a Facebook posting announcing my intent to visit the Holocaust Museum Houston, my dear friend Sophia (Artistic Director of Psophonia Dance Company) wrote to me and shared that for her, "the whole experience was very moving." Aside from a curious synchronicity between her kinesthetic art and her description as moving, I decided to investigate the etymology of moving as it relates to being affected emotionally and deeply. Of course, as we dissect the word emotion, we find easily a semantic connection with the root of both words.Googling moving proved disastrous as I was over bombarded with companies wanting to help me move to a new home and store my valuables. Wikipedia was not helpful at all, as it concentrated on the moving industry. I did learn however about music albums named as such (Pater, Paul and Mary), about a Japanese film and a British sitcom.

As the words etymology, emotion and moving were swirling around in my consciousness, I searched for the etymology of emotion. Therein lay my answer and I found it fascinating.

Paul Thomas Young in his book "Motivation of Behavior - the Fundamentals Determinants of Human and Animal Activity" explains that the word emotion is derived from the Latin e (out) and movere (to move). Originally, in the 1600s the word was associated with migration, to move from one place into another. In the 1700s, the physical meaning was gradually transfered to political and social agitation. He associates the meaning to tumult and popular disturbance. It was later in 1762 that it was used to describe any agitated or excited mental state of an individual. Other online dictionaries supported this semantic development.

Interestingly, there seems to be a negative connotation when one describes an individual as emotional. We assume they are unstable, inadequate and weak, not unlike its roots. We associated its origins with strong feelings, developing into conscious emotions, and moving into irrational behavior. When we describe an artistic work as emotional, we assign it a special power to move (not to be redundant) and to affect our physiological state in terms of mood, temperament, disposition, and possible personality. That indeed, is a positive attribute.

This also brought light to another colloquialism many of us use: fleeting emotions: something that passes quickly, always in transition and fades away. My experience at the Holocaust Museum Houston will not be fleeting and will not be forgotten.

I had the opportunity to view the Besa: Muslims Who Saved Jews During the Holocaust exhibit. In Albania, Besa is the code of honor "to keep the promise" and featured photography by Norman H. Gershman. I learned about many heroes that remained unrecognized for a long period of time given the political climate in Eastern Europe. The photography was soft, emotive and captured the beauty and sanctity of the essence of the personalities pictured.

(Left) Nadire Proseku, holding a photograph of her husband - Lived near a Train Station in Tirana - Muslim, protected three Jewish strangers. (Right) Petraq Xhimitku (back) and Sofir Simsia (front) standing in the wall where his father was set to be executed for sheltering Jews from Kosovo, saved by a partisan group who moments before, shot the executing officers.

I was moved, although the stereotypical fleeting emotion will certainly stay with me for a long time, perhaps weaving in and out of consciousness. The beauty lay in the bravery and purity of intentions that came out of horrible adversity and unimaginable circumstances. Perhaps, like Ashley McLean and Traci Matlock, I had found the sublime.

Below are also photographs of a train used to transport entire targeted communities to concentration and death camps. Amazing to think what is now a stationary exhibit in a museum may have been many people's last memory. I encourage you to see it for yourself.