Читать книгу Yesterday - Robert J. Firth - Страница 5

Man is, if nothing else, creative. Our minds are always in motion, dreaming, considering, thinking and creating. Man is inventive. We design and build homes, buildings, factories, bridges and tall office buildings. We build aircraft, cars, trains ships, medical wonders, and all manner of marvelous items. We invent wondrous medicines whose complex compounds cure many diseases.

Man also creates art, meaning an object existing solely for pleasing those who view it. This kind of art has then no ‘practical’ function. The artist sculpts, draws, paints, wields, binds and shapes everything imaginable into complex and pleasing designs and shapes, depicting the world he sees.

In earlier times art was, in the main, devoted to creating representations of reality. Trees, mountains, ships and people looked as they were, anyone viewing them understood immediately what they were seeing. Leonardo and Michelangelo and all their contemporaries created art in this same way. It wasn’t until the French impressionists and artists like Picasso entered the world stage that we began to see what can be called “modern art.” In this school, objects and colors are used that decidedly are far removed from the real world. Design replaces the traditional, colors flow across the canvass in large, bold and, to me, meaningless swaths, representing somehow the ‘emotions’ of the artist. Such work isn’t hung in traditional galleries where the grand masters adorn the walls. In New York, there’s a separate museum dedicated only to “modern Art.”

Of course, with the advent of “modern Art,’ many, without natural talent and without art education, were and are able to “pretend” to be artists and pretend to create works of art. To be validated as an artist, in a general sense, means that people will part with their hard-earned money to own your work. Of course, too many times, those ‘patrons of the arts’ are actually ‘duped’ into buying by clever salesmen preying on their ignorance and gullibility. It has been argued that the great majority of what passes for ‘modern art’ is, in fact, naught but worthless scribbles expressing a profound lack of creative ability. The proof of this is that some people actually buy paintings done by elephants and monkeys…

Today, however, as in earlier times, great art is being created, some of it indeed is in the school of modern but much remains traditional. Those educated in the arts immediately discern the good from the dross. Of course, Art is also expressed in poems, books and in music.

In the world of music, we have the traditional, represented by Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin, Copeland and many, many others of this wonderful school. There is also modern or Pop music; some of the best being the many musical themes written for the movies and theater like ‘Cats,’ as well as wonderful songs like ‘Yesterday,’ written by the much venerated Beetles. Then, of course, as a sobering reflection perhaps of the shattering social pressures of urban life; we have such unearthly and deadly screeching of ‘gangster rap’, heavy metal and other such mind numbing- pounding tribal nonsense.

Remarkable art of course exists also in written format, exemplified by the likes of Shakespeare, Kipling, Keats, Longfellow, Thomas Wolfe and Mark Twain, just to mention a very few. There is, of course, a modern school of writing with science fiction writers like Robert Heinlein and Jack Kerouac’s wandering prose. The idea of taking pen to paper, as it were, is to lead the reader on a journey into the recesses of the writers mind. To take him by hand and walk into a created world of truth, fantasy, reality and wonder.

The very best writers engaging in the creation of written art use words to sweep the reader into a mystical world of beauty. Such are the works of the great romance poets such as Blake, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron and Shelley. Read again;

Lord Byron: One of my personal favorites, "She Walks In Beauty, Like the Night"

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

There’s little I can add to that…

I have happily wandered through many museums, in America and throughout Europe. When I visit any new city, as I have all over this tired old world, one of the first places I go is the museums. It is so very important that we take our young to visit these wondrous places as often as possible. Imagine, for a moment, what the word means, ‘Muse,’ to think or meditate in silence, to gaze meditatively or wonderingly. This is what one does in a museum. Here we find quiet halls hung with the art of the ages, where we meditate and dream … reflecting on the meaning and creativity of the masters. One can feel an almost physical lifting of the weight of our days and a discernable shifting of priorities. We are troubled less and feel more. This sense of the greatness and grandeur of the human spirit passes like osmosis through our very pores, imbruing us with wonder and joy. We dream, we ponder, we immerse our very souls in the refreshing waters of man’s creation. Surely, this lesson must be passed on. Sadly, only a small percentage of us have ever visited a museum. Huge segments of our troubled and diverse society have never and likely will never visit any museums and the sadder and lesser we are all for this….

Art, and an appreciation of art, is at the very essence of man’s life itself. The purpose is to inspire, to free our minds and our spirits, to open ourselves to possibility. Each and every one of us, when we quietly look within, introspectively, can feel a kinship with his own creativity. I’d like to believe there is not a human anywhere, so deprived so inert that cannot be moved by exposure to art. All of us, everywhere, remember a melody from some half forgotten song, a faded photo of some loved one, a faint perfume on a cool nights air, reminding us of those we loved and who’s memory we cherish. This same nostalgia, this momentary pang of remembrance then is what we experience when wandering and wondering through our museums. Don’t you agree? Don’t wait to long

Great art is also represented in cinematic genre. Writers, producers, directors and talented actors have created stunningly beautiful films that carry the viewers into unimaginable worlds far beyond the ordinary. Some of the very best project spectacular views, speech and music, sweeping the audience’s emotions along like a wild wind, tossing and turning them, lifting them from their mundane lives to places many have never been and will never go- they cry, sigh and fly with the power of the thing!

While discussing the art of film we must save space for the photograph. Traditionally, photographs showed us what the artist saw through his lens. He set up the view, like the great sprawling American landscapes of Ansel Adams to the poignant tintypes of the civil war by Alexander Gardner and Mathew Brady. The photographer uses his camera as does the painter with brush, presenting and persevering a view of what is, as only he can see it. Today, with the remarkable power of computer programs photographs can be enhanced and manipulated such that what the artist creates is akin to the truly wondrous; often leaving the viewer speechless, unable to articulate the depth of their feelings. Reality can indeed be shown to be even more awesome than nature originally intended- penetrating the soul, leaving an indelible impression. Such is the power of the camera!

While you can, I urge you to create, draw, film, write, do something to leave your mark. You are valuable, you are unique; don’t pass us by without a sound. We need to hear what you have heard; we need to know what you have known! So, tell us!