After Listening to Ashok Vajpeyi's lecture, entitled 'Why Art?'
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This statement gives shape to a lingering subconscious doubt about the prevalent perception of 'reality' in society and its inevitable effect on me. While this is probably an inconsequential (though not irrelevant) observation, to the artist, each object is an idea and each idea is a tangible object.
Art allows you to live in a world of ideas. This is a privilege. Ironically, the growth of art is not separable from its performance, which is a solidification, an objectification (or, at least, an execution) of the idea. This line of thought is probably escapist, but there is the example of the naathpanthi fakir who makes no single location his home for more than a few days. Why dwell upon a single point when ten others beckon? Probably because doing so will reveal a subtler set of ideas contained within that single point. Still, बिखर बिखर बनत जात.
Coming back to the point, it must be admitted that society's material perception of reality attempts to 'package' the artists imagined reality in a very ironic and futile attempt to make that reality more 'real'. The artist's often vulnerable consciousness is his greatest culprit because it tries to give shape to his ideas for the wrong reasons. Solidifying an idea in order to make it grow or in order to be able to look beyond its superficial form and appreciate its innards is one thing. Solidifying it to make it more accessible and more communicable is another. Is this a wrong reason? Must this be fought?
Does art not aspire towards this ultimate truth? While it dwells and feeds upon imperfections, it simultaneously attempts to overcome them. The श्रुति is a fine example. Can this process be called the practice of art? Do we avoid a direct pursuit of this truth because we're scared of actually finding it? Like Linda Hess says, Kabir talks about the शून्य शिखर, which represents the achievement of this truth, which has as its consequence the death of your identity - a death we constantly live in fear of. If the cosmos is imperfect, this ultimate truth must be fictional - 'just' another imagined idea. What then makes it so desirable and terrifying, simultaneously? Is it becasue we want to free ourselves of the imperfections that lie between it and us? But then this is the realm of art. So do we anchor ourselves to this realm because of the art that lies within it, or because of a fear of the salvation that lies at the other end? Do we want to sheild ourselves from actually visiting the other side and seeing for ourselves the greenness of that grass? Is this inability to let go what gives the artist his चिरनिराश ह्रदय? रहने दो सागर - ए - मीना मेरे आगे. Is this why even Kabir kept composing?
On the other hand, the process of ideation may be a gift that we have that allows us to at least realise the potential for or the possiblity of perfection - in our respective worlds of ideas. Ithaca is inconsequential because it doesn't exist. On the other hand, घट ही में तीरथ न्हाया राम.
So, essentially, do we, must we, should we try to go anywhere?
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Contemporary consciousness gives more importance to objects than it does to ideas.
This statement gives shape to a lingering subconscious doubt about the prevalent perception of 'reality' in society and its inevitable effect on me. While this is probably an inconsequential (though not irrelevant) observation, to the artist, each object is an idea and each idea is a tangible object.
Coming back to the point, it must be admitted that society's material perception of reality attempts to 'package' the artists imagined reality in a very ironic and futile attempt to make that reality more 'real'. The artist's often vulnerable consciousness is his greatest culprit because it tries to give shape to his ideas for the wrong reasons. Solidifying an idea in order to make it grow or in order to be able to look beyond its superficial form and appreciate its innards is one thing. Solidifying it to make it more accessible and more communicable is another. Is this a wrong reason? Must this be fought?
Art lies in the imperfections, not in a single ultimate truth.
The cosmos is imperfect. It is made up of imperfections.
Does art not aspire towards this ultimate truth? While it dwells and feeds upon imperfections, it simultaneously attempts to overcome them. The श्रुति is a fine example. Can this process be called the practice of art? Do we avoid a direct pursuit of this truth because we're scared of actually finding it? Like Linda Hess says, Kabir talks about the शून्य शिखर, which represents the achievement of this truth, which has as its consequence the death of your identity - a death we constantly live in fear of. If the cosmos is imperfect, this ultimate truth must be fictional - 'just' another imagined idea. What then makes it so desirable and terrifying, simultaneously? Is it becasue we want to free ourselves of the imperfections that lie between it and us? But then this is the realm of art. So do we anchor ourselves to this realm because of the art that lies within it, or because of a fear of the salvation that lies at the other end? Do we want to sheild ourselves from actually visiting the other side and seeing for ourselves the greenness of that grass? Is this inability to let go what gives the artist his चिरनिराश ह्रदय? रहने दो सागर - ए - मीना मेरे आगे. Is this why even Kabir kept composing?
On the other hand, the process of ideation may be a gift that we have that allows us to at least realise the potential for or the possiblity of perfection - in our respective worlds of ideas. Ithaca is inconsequential because it doesn't exist. On the other hand, घट ही में तीरथ न्हाया राम.
So, essentially, do we, must we, should we try to go anywhere?
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2 comments:
That's an interesting observation (idea?) you present here. I never thought of it that way. It's going to take some time for me to internalize this.
To me personally, art has always been defined by the expression of ideas. IMO, ideas are in many people's heads - if you take the time to discern every single subtle twitch of the lips, slight deviation in the eyebrows and the hints dropped in seemingly innocuous statements (verbal or otherwise) that people make, you'll come to realize that humans are wild beings with very active imaginations. What separates the non-artist from the artist is this ability to express their idea in tangible form - to get it across.
If you take the example of Leonard Da Vinci, it would be safe to say that many people before him realised the principles of aerodynamics (Archemedes was 2000 years before his time.) Even as kids, before we knew of planes or helicopters, we knew how screws work, and we knew how we can make air move when we used papers to fan ourselves in the summer heat. What separates us from the great Master, however, is perhaps the ability to (in scientific words) formalize the idea, but perhaps in artistic terms the ability to express the idea - in painting, sculpture or treatise.
And the more abstract the idea, the more amazing the artist has to be to express it. Think of the abstractness of that "feeling you get on a cold, windy evening, just as twilight is setting in, and you see the red misty horizon." (now I'm having a hard time getting it out of my head) Maybe one person will paint this exact vision which would be a tough challenge. Maybe another will put it in words and yet convey that same 'feeling' to their readers - their imaginations will allow them to smell and taste the air and look with awe upon the sight by the power of words alone. To me, that's art! :-)
I forgot to comment on the part about "purpose of life".Our lives revolve around our ability to be better than we are - better as human beings.
It gives us a choice. We are who we choose to be. Does all of this have a point? Does it have purpose? It depends on where you look for purpose. Let me attempt to express this idea. :-)
Remember in primary school, there were two types of kids - those who constantly craved the approval of their teachers, and those who were happy with their peers (but not necessarily anti-teacher). I feel that all of us, in our quest for "The Truth" become the former type of kids. We want to know there is some Supernatural being, or some Universe-approved purpose to life. We want to be those favorites of some greater teacher who is running the Universe. If the universe is, indeed, imperfect, then it disappoints us because now there is no teacher to gratify us.
If you change your perspective to look at what you do have - maybe it all makes sense. An imperfect universe means an infinite number of possibilities, a limitless set of ideas, and the ability to be whatever we choose to be. We finally look at expressing our ideas to our fellow third-graders, instead of the old lady sitting behind the desk. We look at our fellow classmates as stakeholders in a better future. There will always be an opportunity for improvement - so it's not as if a teacher has defined a syllabus and now expects everyone to follow it, and when a student scores "100%" it's the limit nobody else can possibly cross.
Frankly, a perfect world, and a Universe with purpose, frightens me. It sounds too bureaucratic. It sounds too methodical. It's the imperfect world that makes us who we really are, and allows us the opportunity for expression.
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