Is Science more Attractive to the Human Mind?

Humans have a tradition of seeking explanations for the world’s workings; we have been searching for answers to limitless questions for thousands of years. One of the primary means of explanation has been the sciences. Biology, chemistry, physics, geology, etc.: all provide humans with effective ways to rationalize the world. Since humans long for simplicity over complexity, they will naturally be more attracted to concrete answers rather than abstract ideas. This is where the arts meet difficulties in mainstream acceptance. While science gives facts, evidence, laws, and theorems, laid out and accepted by the majority, art presents us with abstract ideas and interpretation. Even the most straightforward of paintings may be interpreted in different ways.

The problem of individual interpretation separates art from science, but in some ways unifies them as well. Many refined practices in science are referred to as “arts” and involve interpretation. Humans decide what to take away from scientific data, just as they do from a painting. Also, human error is not unknown from science. As Lehrer’s quote points out, no measurement can be perfect. This is due to a combination of human error as well as inability; humans do not possess the ability to measure absolutely perfectly, as the decimal point being measured to can never extend to the infinity mark required for perfection.

Beauty, Biology, and Art

Beauty is somewhat of an abstract idea, considering each person can perceive appearances differently. What one person finds pleasing to the eye, another person may not. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines beauty as “the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit.” Biologically, humans are innately attracted to symmetry, and certain other qualities. This stems from the evolutionary desire to find a healthy reproductive partner. For example, a female with wider hip would be more attractive because this quality eases childbirth. Mathematically, the Golden Ratio is considered to be most aesthetically pleasing and was used frequently by Renaissance architects and artists.

Personally, however, an individual’s concept of beauty can be completely separate from another’s. Runway models are purported by their industry to be iconic of beauty. Many people see them to the contrary and feel that they are far to thin. Thus everyone has their own concept of beauty, although certain things may influence that concept from a cultural standpoint. Today’s American culture tends to value plump lips, for example. In the Heian era of Japan’s history, women practiced ohaguro, the fashion of dying one’s teeth black. In that era, black things like lacquer glaze were seen as beautiful. This may seem strange to us today, but it was completely normal in the Heian culture.

In art, personal preference to a piece can be strongly linked to whether that person finds a particular piece visually appealing. I myself am one of these people who desires aesthetically pleasing qualities in art. However, what I may consider ugly, someone else might think is a masterpiece.

Philharmonic Review

The New York Philharmonic’s rehearsal on November 19th included works from a variety of excellent composers. The pieces performed included Liszt’s Les Préludes, Symphonic Poem No. 3 after Lamartine; Elgar’s In the South (Alassio), Concerto-Overture for Orchestra, Op. 50; and selections from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet.

Franz Liszt, born in 1811, was a masterful Hungarian composer who was the first to champion the “symphonic poem,” a “large-scale but single-movement orchestral piece structured to convey a literary program.” Liszt himself coined the term in 1853 and composed 13 such pieces, Les Préludes being the third. This work, one of his most famous, was indeed a revision and expansion upon his previous work Les Quatre Éléments: La Terre, Les Aquilons, Les Flots, Les Astres. The work also loosely connects to Alphonse de Lamartine’s poem “Les Préludes,” although the order of the moods differs. In Liszt’s composition, the “sequence divides into four parts, which focus on love, war, the natural beauty of the countryside, and destiny.”

This piece stirred up a great many emotions in me and in the space of the time in which it was rehearsed by the Philharmonic, it became one of my favorite classical pieces. Throughout the course of the composition, I closed my eyes, allowing the music to envelope me in a story; the symphonic poem lived up to that title and inspired my imagination to match a plot to the music. In its entirety, my imaginary world seemed to be set in World War II era Europe, perhaps France. The first section opened with a light and airy feeling which invoked the spirit of springtime in my own interpretation. I saw the blossoming of a new infatuation, which later in the part developed into a full-blown romance. Starkly contrasting against the buoyant mood of the love section, the transition into the war section was quite effective. The beginning of this part of the sequence made me envision the lovers attempting to flee from an oncoming darkness, denoted by sinister tones in the music. As the section developed, the war motif was incredibly clear to the listener; the powerful music created images of a charging cavalry and marching forces. This section fades into a much softer section in which I saw a serene isolated landscape of rolling green hills and a small home. I pictured the woman alone, her lover having disappeared into the chaos of war, tending to her laundry with a slight wind blowing. The scene continues to emphasize the beauty of the area in which she lives. In the final section, representing destiny, the pomp and grandeur of the music formed a reunion between the lovers in my imaginary story. The triumphant feel of the music made me feel as if there could be no other end to the story.

Edward Elgar, Britain’s leading composer of the Edwardian Era, composed his In the South (Alassio) after vacationing in the south of Italy in 1904. Upon visiting the village of Andora, Elgar was inspired and filled his piece with “references to his Italian surroundings…a heroic buildup of chordal textures meant to evoke ancient Roman soldiers, and a canto popolare of the sort the shepard [a local] might sing.” For the most part, I enjoyed this piece and it was performed excellently, although the source composition did not speak to me as much as its predecessor in the program. I believe because I was so enthralled with Les Préludes, that I set myself up for disappointment for the rest of the show. However, I was rather fond of the part in Alassio when the music picks up and evoked a battle scene.

The final act of the rehearsal was selections from Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. While I felt his music was a bit unusual at parts, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Prokofiev’s score was originally scorned by members of the Bolshoi Ballet as “undanceable.” Today, however, it is regarded as “one of the finest ballet scores of all times.” My favorite piece was the “Death of Tybalt,” because of it’s dramatic tones and dark feel. I also enjoyed “Montagues and the Capulets” and “Romeo at Juliet’s Grave.” I definitely favored the darker pieces than the lighter ones. I did think, however, that “Juliet, the Young Girl” was fitting for a youthful girl with it’s light and fast paced nature.

Overall, my main criticism is that I felt that there were too many pauses and interruptions; however, I digress because it was a rehearsal and the stops were typical and expected. I enjoyed most of Conductor Riccardo Muti’s commentary as well, although at points I could not understand him. In the end, I regretted not being able to attend the performance.

All quotes from the Playbill’s “Notes on the Program” by James M. Keller

MoMA Punk Rock Review

Upon arriving at the MoMA, I was eager to see the punk rock exhibit because it was a period I had interest in, but no knowledge about. I was quite surprised when I found the entire exhibit to be contained within two small rooms that acted almost as a corridor between larger exhibits. Expecting to be immersed in the atmosphere of punk, I was disappointed to see a sterile white environment with the artifacts arranged neat and prim. I doubt artists of the punk rock movement would present their art in such a way. I believe a grungy set up with dim lights would have been more apt to capture the feeling of punk, akin to a garage.

What the exhibit itself did touch upon included many of the central artists to the movement, with audio and video available. However, the audio was presented through headphones, whereas a live performance or music played over speakers (albeit lowly as to avoid disturbing other exhibits) would have been preferable.

Our class activity, however, was very enjoyable. The mapping of different clubs and performance spaces was very informative and gave me insight as to where the movement was concentrated.

Truth in Art

When viewing a work of art, or listening to one, can we see truth? Can we feel it?

Truth is defined as “the property (as of a statement) of being in accord with fact or reality” (Merriam Webster Dictionary). Under this definition, truth is something that is universal, there is only one Truth. However, when placed into the context of different human individuals, different people can have conflicting perceptions of realities, and thus, a different personal truth. For example, a person with partial colorblindness might perceive a sweater to be dark grey, when in fact, to people without the disorder, it is red. Within that person’s reality the sweater is grey and “red” doesn’t have a definition. Art is something that is subjective and a person’s reaction to it depends on various factors, with large part in personal tastes. The reaction one person gets from viewing or listening to art is intrapersonal. A person can gain a personal truth from art, but as each person’s perception is individual, a person cannot see a universal Truth.

Dance as Language

A student slouches into class one early morning, drops his bag unceremoniously on the floor next to a desk, and slumps into a chair. He rubs his eyes a bit, then lets his arms fall slack at his sides, sliding back slowly to stare at the ceiling. This student has not spoken a single word, but to the people around him has spoken volumes. Clearly apathetic, he is not thrilled with the prospect of being awake so early and announces through his movements that he is bored and uninterested in the class. This is an example of body language.

Body language is defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary as “the gestures, movements, and mannerisms by which a person or animal communicates with others.” Simply by observing a person, you can often deduce their current state of mind, particularly their mood, because is transfers directly to their body movements. Someone feeling bright and energetic might appear to have a spring in their step; another feeling determined might appear to walk with strong, decisive steps. As our most primal form of communication, we need not to learn a spoken tongue to understand it: body language is universal, transcending the boundaries of spoken word.

Dance is an extension of body language, a conscious effort at communicating through body movements. It allows for great personal expression and the dancer controls the message they want to convey. I have found dance similar to spoken languages in that different styles remind me of certain tongues. A dance with great fluidity of movement might evoke a romance language whereas rough, raw movements could be akin to German. However, each person is an individual in dance, they have their own language. Another person can perform the same moves as the first, but slight nuances will be different and it cannot be a carbon copy, unlike the way humans can learn multiple spoken (and written) languages. Even though one cannot copy another’s dance exactly, it does not mean one cannot understand the emotions being expressed. The exact message might be perceived differently, as it often is in interpretive dance, but the general feeling remains the same. Thus, watching someone perform a dance is like a story, but more of a personal experience.

Nozze di Figaro Review

Being my first trip to the opera, I was a bit nervous and did not know what to expect. Stereotypes of operas being long, boring events only wealthy people attended coursed through my mind. Arriving at the Metropolitan Opera house I was intimidated by its sophisticated air. Sitting quietly, waiting for the performance to begin, I had butterflies in my stomach. Throughout the course of the opera, I fell in love with the atmoshere.

Immediately upon the rise of the curtain, I was taken aback by the breathtaking sets. Never in my limited experiences of high school productions and Broadway shows had I seen such beautiful work on the scenery. The sheer amount of detail which went into making the sets appear real was staggering to me. One of the more impressive aspects was the control of light; I was amazed that the stage crews could create the effect of light coming through the windows, and then change the light according to the time of day. Also, the tilt of the revolving stage drew me in, as I could see the entire room, making me feel as if I was there. The tilt also made me commend the talent of the actors, as I imagine walking and dancing on a tilted floor would be difficult. Before each act began, I was eager to see the next part of the set. Another part of the spectacle of the performance that I thoroughly enjoyed was the costumes. Each character’s costume looked as if it had come straight out of a museum, and I commend the meticulous work of whoever tailored them.

The opera itself was a joy to experience. I thought the plot shifts and twists were incredibly well done and humorous; Nozze di Figaro has become my new favorite classic comedy. Never having experienced live opera singing, I quickly realized that listening in person is starkly different from hearing a clip on the radio. The actor’s voices filled the entire opera house and evoked so many different emotions in me, depending on the mood of the song. I could not detect a single flaw while they were singing, whether that be attributed to my lack of musical training, or the actor’s perfection. My favorite parts were when multiple actor’s sang in unison, because I was so impressed by their synchronization. My only complaint throughout the whole show was not with the performance itself, but with the length of the intermissions. I wish that they had been shortened just a bit, as I felt the wait was too long.

Minimalism

Minimalism first arose as a movement in the 1950s, continuing throughout the sixties and seventies. Minimalist art can include paintings, drawings, sculpture, and can be applied to things such as architecture. Like abstract art, there is no real life subject as reference, as the subject is the painting itself. The artist hopes that the viewer can experience the work in its most intense form.  Traditional concepts such as that of composition and theme are considered distractions; the content and form of minimalist art should be as simplistic as possible. Stripped of detail, minimalist art often includes geometric shapes and uses industrial materials.

This movement differs from many of the others in that it is meant to be impersonal. Minimalist art strived to be as unexpressive as possible. In this way, the movement was a reaction against Abstract Expressionism, which takes artistic expression to the extreme. Famous minimalist artists include Frank Stella, Ellsworth Kelly, Dan Flavin, Donald Judd and Carl Andre.

The picture I included is Ad Reinhardt’s “Abstract Painting,” which is one in his famous series of Black Paintings. This can be seen in the New York Guggenheim Museum.

Sources:

Christopher Want. “Minimalism.” Grove Art Online. Oxford Art Online. 24 Sep. 2009 <http://www.oxfordartonline.com/subscriber/article/grove/art/T058397>.

“Minimalism.” Art Movements Directory. 24 Sep. 2009

< http://www.artmovements.co.uk/minimalism.htm>.

“Minimalism.” Guggenheim Collection Online. Guggenheim Foundation. 24 Sep. 2009

< http://www.guggenheimcollection.org/site/movement_works_Minimalism_0.html>.

The Stewart Mansion

The top picture shows Hassam’s painting of the A. T. Stewart Manision, built in 1869. The mansion once sat on the northwest corner of 34th St. and 5th Ave. and was home to the Manhattan Club from 1890 to 1899. The building was, however, torn down between 1902 and 1904. Today the corner has a Duane Reade pharmacy on the ground level of a skyscraper. It is also just across the street from the Empire State Building.

My photograph is not completely accurate in angle, but in both pictures the vanishing point is off the image to the far left. The lines the sidewalk forms are close and I included a bit of the closer sidewalk, as in the foreground of the painting. I had to fiddle with the angle at which I held my phone as well as the amount of zoom in order to get the photo close to the original. I believe I could have gotten it closer but I would have needed to be in the street where cars were parked. The area has changed drastically from when Hassam painted it, most of the historical buildings being torn down and replaced with large skyscrapers. The area appears just as bustling as in the painting, however, because it is now a tourist hot spot.