Mere Beauty Journal

Terry Yount

Sep 18, 20235 min read

Vol. 1 No. 8

Exploring trends in all the arts

IN THIS ISSUE

ARTICLE

On Making: When Artists Minimize Recognition

MUSIC

Stanford’s Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in C

POETRY

Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”

MURAL ART

beautifying open spaces

RESOURCES

for exploring beauty

ARTICLE

On Making: When Artists Minimize Recognition

A philosopher once said,

Art is a making that imitates the making of God, and it is most godlike when it is purely gratuitous, when it is not meeting a need.

True or not? Making, in this case, eliminates the ego of the artist. It’s a making that goes on freely, and money or power or greed do not get mixed up in it. That’s rather idealistic, you could say. This ideal of ‘making’ rarely happens. When it does, we seldom hear about it for obvious reasons. Why would anyone, whether making a poem, a still life, a play, a house, or a string quartet, do it gratuitously? Most art is done for a price, as any art dealer will tell you.

Though unusual, such artistic impulses exist, we are naturally drawn to the well-known by habit. For example, most of us were educated and conditioned in the Western world where Monet was one of the greatest painters. We do not spend much time studying the paintings of other less-esteemed artists, even though their work is arguably just as valuable from a purely aesthetic standpoint.

The great philosophers in the West assumed all artistic impulse was a product of imago dei (the image of God). In many ways, the artist is a human caricature of a divine example. It can be taken to the extreme, however.

Ultimately, we cannot compose or sculpt ex nihilo. Our imago dei, no matter the subject or the intention, is inadequate in capturing even a sliver of God’s creative genius. Oh yes, we all know the story of Mozart, whose earliest compositions reveal ‘godlike’ expressivity, or Shelley, who died in his prime but left a remarkable ouvre of verse.

Are we to assume that our being made in God’s image means nothing, that we are mere shadows of God’s invention and artistic power even in the best of cases? Some in history have been exceptional makers. Their work was at such a level that it is storied to approach divinity. But some philosophers (some of the same ones who agreed we are made in God’s image) insist we are like children in the sandbox compared to God’s handiwork.

Ours is a pragmatic culture. Even though artistic work might soar to the heavens, it really is possible to overstate the concept imago dei. Then again we have to notice ‘ordinary’ people who made great works of art, like the eminent Russian professor and chemist Alexandr Borodin, who wrote his hugely successful opera, Prince Igor. It might mean a creator’s merits are judged as ordinary, but because they were sincere or expressive in their work, they made it into the top tier. I think our culture would like to make that happen for every artist. Oddly, it turns out we have taken the arts—music, painting, literature, etc.—and made them in our image, not God’s.

Ken Myers* said once, “art is eminently practical, and thus suspect in a culture that is eminently pragmatic.” There is truth in this. In one way it is describing art as a commodity, something that fills a role like a decorator looking for the right colors and fabrics in a dentist’s office. What I think Myers (who clearly advocates for creativity that rises to the level of exceptional) fully recognizes there are two audiences for any work. They are idealistic in spirit, exalting the exceptional. And in other cases there are pragmatists who are tolerant of work that is clearly unexceptional, but still merit our attention. Art is just one of many commodities. If it is appealing to a majority, it has a merit that immediately qualifies it as exceptional. It’s more about our emotional response to it than about its inherent merit.

T A Yount

See the rest of this article here

*Ken Myers formerly worked for National Public Radio, edited Eternity Magazine, produces Mars Hill Audio, and authored All God’s Children and Blue Suede Shoes.

MUSIC

Stanford’s Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in C

Stanford’s ‘Mag & Nunc’ in C in all its pomp and drama at All Saints Episcopal St. Gregory Choir, at Evensong. Participating as organist echoed services at many United Kingdom cathedrals and college chapels. The text, Mary’s song in Luke 1:46-55, and Simeon’s song in Luke 2:29-32, is set to choral music with solos, surrounded by Stanford’s post-Romantic accompaniment. Easily one of the most accessible of Stanford’s pieces, his sensitivity to the contrasts in Luke’s writing is mirrored in the choir’s dynamic range alongside organ whispers that swell and accelerate at glorious moments. Stanford epitomizes Edwardian glories of the Anglican church music tradition.

Here is the Magnificat text (with appended “Glory be the the Father”) as it appears in the Book of Common Prayer:

My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded: the lowliness of his handmaiden: For behold, from henceforth: all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath magnified me: and holy is his Name. And his mercy is on them that fear him: throughout all generations. He hath shewed strength with his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seat: and hath exalted the humble and meek. He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away. He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel: As he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

POETRY

Lord Byron’s “She Walks in Beauty”

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 mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

II.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired 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.

III.

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!

George Gordon, Lord Byron, 1814

MURAL ART

...beautifying open spaces

We the Youth (1987) mural by Keith Haring, located at 22nd and Ellsworth Streets in Philadelphia, United States. It was completed in collaboration with CityKids Foundation, a New York-based youth organization. The mural was restored in 2013 by the Philadelphia Mural Arts Program. More about this work can be found at: muralarts.org

*Keith Haring, CC BY-SA 3.0, description by Wikimedia Commons