Dog, Book, and Scandal by Bard Heads:

At the Edinburgh Fringe, I've just been to see Bard Heads: Dog, Book, and Scandal:  The write up drew me in, I think because I'm a bit of a sucker for alternative timelines and counterfactuals and this kind of 'what happened next?' story beguiles that same bit of mind. It said this:
"In Dog, Book and Scandal, Friar Laurence faces criticism over star-crossed lovers’ fiasco. Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Bard Heads catches up with Friar Laurence one year on from the tragedy. Written and performed by Richard Curnow"
Well, I enjoyed the performance. The actor (for 'tis a monologue in three main voices) comes over in the main character as a humane and likeable soul: a winsome performance. The other two characters are a bit cartooney but really they are the foil for the main character so that is not necessarily a fault. Some echoes and quotes from Romeo and Juliet form part of the text. The Shakespearean Tudor, however, doesn't fill the time and much of it is in a reasonably contemporary English (though at one or two points I wondered whether a more 'classic'-sounding phrase than "man up" might have have been found). However, to have attempted the whole thing in a Tudor-English style would almost certainly have been a mistake.

The play explores (spoiler alert!) how Friar Laurence is coping a year on in exile in Mantua where he's settled down into a useful existence as an apothecary's assistant (and helped prosper the business it seems). Richard Curnow, the actor, plays the apothecary for the purposes of setting up a dialogue with the friar; the apothecary being the voice of cynical godlessness (and also of a right to choose to die) poking and prodding the doubting, would-be-humanistic theist who is the friar. Perhaps there is a whiff of the pantomime villain about this character, but then, some of Shakespeare's characters have this at times and so I don't rate it a defect, necessarily. At the end of the play the friar has conceded to cynicism but has also bounced back somewhat from it. Faith has been tested to destruction but a resurrection of sorts also takes place - a more ambiguous faith but perhaps more hopeful.

I did feel it a shame that the meaning of faith was more fully explored: we get a tantalising glimpse of a move from a dogmatic faith which tries to act up to certainty towards a faith that is more about trust -though trust in what is where the ambiguity stays. Perhaps it needs to in order not to engender or collude with further versions of dogmatic faith?

I enjoyed the use of lines of the prayer "God be in my head..." to give a sense of a depth of faith to the friar that is not cartoonish but rather can be seen to be wide-ranging in the friar's piety, giving a sense of a real spirituality.

The other character produced for the play is that of Juliet's nurse. Again, she's a bit of a cartoon complete with rustic accent (which seemed to have linguistic features from the west country and the north east of England, though perhaps this was some move towards original pronunciation?). The nurse serves to situate the friar back into the Verona scene by being a representative voice of those who appreciate the friar and do not blame him for his part in the matter of the death of two star-crossed lovers. The nurse also serves (as a gossipy character) to give some of the narrative background.

I loved the dog of the title whom we never meet in person but the fact that it is called 'Jesus' gives a few little wry puns with a smidgeon of significance within the play -and it's nice that this is not overdone; just sitting there discreetly.

Altogether, I definite "go and see" if you're in Edinburgh at a little before 3pm on August 5, 7, 9, 12, 14, or 16.

Andy Goldsworthy and The Spirit of God who broods over the Deep

Over the last 10 years or so, I've been finding myself returning in reflection time and time again to Genesis 1 and 2. I have also beeen something of an admirer of the work of Andy Goldsworthy. So, for me it was good to come across this blog post which brings together both.

 God's power and activity in the world is this creative, ordering, nourishing force that swims against the tides of entropy, death, decay and disorder. Experimental Theology: Hebel, Grace and the Art of Andy Goldsworthy: Part 3, The Spirit of God:

  I was pleased to see this because it reminded me of an unfinished project of mine.  A year or so back I began writing a meditation on a very similar theme which I recorded the beggining of: http://nouslife.blogspot.co.uk.... For me the scriptural linkage was with Genesis 1 and the seed for this can be seen here: http://nouslife.blogspot.co.uk....

Also a start at reflection visually.

So I've started wondering whether it's not about time I returned to that project.

Angel wrestling

I love this image. I think it is a representation of Jacob wrestling with the angel ...

Community: Wounded and Blessed – a workshop for Idealists, Hypocrites and Wanna-be Disciples of Jesus | Empire Remixed: wnb2

The Divine Commodity: Discovering a Faith Beyond Consumer Christianity

Skye Jethani has written a great set of reflections on the way that USAmerican Christians, especially Evangelicals, have been seduced and co-opted by the marketisation of their culture. One of the prima facie odd things about this book is the way that Skye uses Vincent Van Gogh as a way to help us into the key insights he wishes to convey. In fact this works well and helps us to learn about Van Gogh and to retrieve him as a Christian worth listening to for what he can help us to appreciate about Christian responses to culture and social issues.
 There are some good insights into the way that a wrongful assimilation to culture have affected the way we conduct church and worship.
See ...

Quotes and notes

Over a century ago another struggling Christian fled the church to find God in the stars. Vincent van Gogh is remembered for his volatile mental health, severing his ear, and later taking his life. But the tortured artist also had a volatile relationship with Christianity, oscillating between devotion and rejection. At one time his fervor was so intense he became a missionary. Later he announced, “That God of the clergymen, he is for me as dead as a doornail,”1 and called himself “no friend of present-day Christianity.” His paintings and letters show us a man wrestling to synthesize his faith with modern thought. But his struggle was primarily with the institutional church, not Christ. In his final years, as his mental illness became more severe, van Gogh reveals a profound devotion to Jesus while remaining disillusioned with the church. His most celebrated painting from this period, Starry Night, captures this sentiment. The scene of a quiet hamlet beneath a churning sky of stars was composed from his imagination. For this reason Starry Night depicts the vistas of van Gogh’s soul more than the countryside surrounding Saint-Rémy, France. The deep indigo of the sky was used by Vincent to represent the infinite presence of God, and the heavenly bodies are yellow — van Gogh’s color for sacred love. The divine light of the stars is repeated in the village below, every home illuminated with the same yellow warmth. For Vincent, God’s loving presence in the heavens was no less real on the earth. But there is one building in van Gogh’s imaginary village with no light, no divine presence — the church. Its silent darkness speaks van Gogh’s judgment that the institutional church was full of “icy coldness.” Like many people today, van Gogh struggled to find God in the confines of institutional, programmatic religion. Instead, he found himself drawn outside the respectable piety of the church to commune with peasants and prostitutes. And his devotion to Christ was inspired by nature — the radiance of sunflowers, the knuckled contortion of olive trees, and the silent providence of the stars. Rather than visiting the church, van Gogh said, “When I have a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion, then I go out and paint the stars.” location 135

A more recent painting by pop artist Ron English captures the church’s condition today. A parody of van Gogh’s work, Starry Night Urban Sprawl replaces the original French village with the architecture of consumerism — fast food restaurants and Hollywood icons. The church steeple is crowned with McDonald’s golden arches and King Kong straddles the roof. Unlike van Gogh’s Starry Night, in Ron English’s composition the church is not dark. Light diffuses through every window and door, but it is not the sacred yellow light of the stars above. Instead, the church repeats the electric white light of the franchised stores and restaurants around it. It reflects the values of the earth, not the values of the heavens. This church is a corporation, its outreach is marketing, its worship is entertainment, and its god is a commodity. It is the church of Consumer Christianity. Richard Halverson, former chaplain of the United States Senate, is said to have observed that: In the beginning the church was a fellowship of men and women centered on the living Christ. Then the church moved to Greece, where it became a philosophy. Then it moved to Rome, where it became an institution. Next, it moved to Europe, where it became a culture. And, finally, it moved to America, where it became an enterprise. location 156

Our minds are so captivated by these ideas that we’ve lost the ability to think an alternative thought. As a result, the imagination has become the critical battleground between the kingdom of God and consumerism, and before we can hope to live differently we must have our minds released from consumerism’s grip and captivated again by Christ. As Thomas Kelly contends, before we can live in full obedience to God we must be given a flaming vision of such an existence. This burning image comes to us through our intuitive faculties. “Holy is imagination, the gateway of Reality into our hearts.” location 197

cannot imagine how to carry out the fantastical mission of our leader. Wanting to obey Christ but lacking his imagination, we reinterpret the mission of the church through the only framework comprehendible to us — the one we’ve inherited from our consumer culture. location 299

who dismissed Jesus’ words, they had eyes but they could not see. Vincent believed the ability to perceive the unseen was achieved only by the grace of God. He wrote, “You need a certain dose of inspiration, a ray from on high, that is not in ourselves, in order to do beautiful things.” location 425

the Gospels are dominated by Jesus telling stories and weaving parables. He used these verbal Trojan horses to sneak radical truths past his listeners’ defenses and into the chamber where their imaginations slumbered. And as they began to awaken, Jesus’ stories illuminated a new vision of the world. They disentangled reality for his listeners, and his disciples slowly perceived the kingdom of God that Jesus saw all around him. It was a kingdom that defied the conventionality of his day. location 458

If we are to effectively make disciples of Jesus Christ and teach them to obey everything he commanded, we cannot neglect the imagination. Knowledge and skills are important, but neither will be employable if the mind is still imprisoned by the conventionality of the surrounding culture. location 476

Who would want an uncontrollable, mysterious, and holy God when you could have a genie in a Bible? location 632

Sometimes amnesia can be very convenient. Without awareness of one’s story or context a person can be whomever and whatever he or she desires with no worry of repercussion. Without context there is no responsibility. location 730

items are rarely packaged to convey the story of their creation or the human lives impacted by their production. Instead the packaging reinforces our consumer amnesia by appealing only to our desires. Marketing actively discourages shoppers from contemplating where items come from, nor do we want to. We simply want to buy them, use them, enjoy them, and discard them with no larger responsibility. location 746

a brand is a manufactured idea that infiltrates the imagination. location 898

Colin Bates, a marketing expert, says “a brand is a collection of perceptions in the mind of the consumer.” location 898

Nothing in the commercials explicitly communicates PC users are dullards or klutzes, but that is the power of branding. It triggers the imaginative ability of the mind to make these associations automatically. Branding has allowed Apple to become a seller of identity and not merely computers. location 944

Should it scare me that my five-year-old has memorized more corporate brands than prayers, Bible verses, or even names of relatives? location 980

Ford and Pizza Hut spend millions of dollars marketing in preschools?18 Three- and four-year-olds cannot order a pizza or buy a car, but by planting a branded seed in the kids’ imaginations and associating it with positive feelings, these corporations hope to reap the fruit when these children begin to form their identities as teenagers. This sort of brand marketing has been so effective that the average ten-year-old has already memorized between 300 and 400 brands. location 987

After studying recent Social Security records he’s reported an increase in the number of children named after popular brands. location 994
Note: of ccourse thisshould be reflected on in the light that conventional names are often saints ...

Brands are the little gods of modern life, each ruling a different need, activity, mood, or situation. Yet you’re in control. If your latest god falls from Olympus, you can switch to another one. location 1014

appears that God’s people are constructing and expressing their identity through the consumption of Christ-branded products. As Mark Riddle observes, “Conversion in the U.S. seems to mean we’ve exchanged some of our shopping at Wal-Mart, Blockbuster, and Borders for the Christian Bookstore down the street. location 1019

becoming synonymous with “unclean” or “heathen.” Because the absence of a foreskin carried so much meaning in the ancient world, in a real way it was the prototype religious brand — location 1071

When the church gets into the business of staging experiences, that quickly becomes idolatry. MS: I’m stunned. So you don’t encourage churches to use your elements of marketable experiences to create attractive experiences for their attenders? Gilmore: No. The organized church should never try to stage a God experience. location 1383

We’ve come to regard our church buildings, with their multimedia theatrical equipment, as mountaintops where God’s glory resides and may be encountered by mere mot-als. location 1503

Others may simply be carried along by the music, crowd, and energy of the room. Whether a result of God or group, what is beyond question is that many people depart feeling spiritually rejuvenated and capable of taking on life for another six days. The problem with these external experiences, as Moses discovered, is that the transformation doesn’t last. In a few days time, or maybe as early as Sunday lunch, the glory begins to fade. The mountaintop experience with God — the event you were certain would change your life forever — turns out to be another fleeting spiritual high. And to hide the lack of genuine transformation, we mask the inglorious truth of our lives behind a veil, a façade of Christian piety, until we can ascend the mountain again and be recharged. location 1510

Far more energy is poured into the Sunday morning experience than actually equipping people to internally experience God throughout their “common business.” location 1596

from a smiling Quaker man, or syrup from Aunt Jemima? Through branding corporations came to possess names, faces, and even personalities. They became people in the public’s imagination just as they had gained personhood in the courts. Advertising has formed us to give our affection not only to the products we consume, but also to the personified corporations that supply them. location 1757

Through branding a church differentiates itself from all the others offering the same basic product — God. After all, in a competitive religious market the goal is not simply for believers to be dedicated to God, but to the particular institution who supplies him. location 1776

people became, the more dissatisfied they were with the church. In fact, those recognized to be the most Christ-centered were the least enthusiastic about engaging church programs. Rather than a utilitarian ocean liner transporting them closer to God, the church was seen as a lumbering cruise ship full of entertaining distractions, and the more mature Christians were eager to get off. location 1989

In less than a century, Christians have gone from opposing over-consumption at Christmas to demanding it be done in Christ’s name alone. location 2069

Ads became the prophets of consumerism — turning the imaginations of the people toward the goods they didn’t know they wanted. location 2096

a consumer culture designed to keep adults thinking, and buying, like children. Maturity and rationality are the enemies of our desire-based economy. As Benjamin Barber says, “For consumer capitalism to prevail you must make kids consumers and make consumers kids.” location 2144

The ideal consumer remains a child from the womb to the tomb. location 2150

The dilemma posed by consumerism is not the endless manufacturing of desires, but the temptation to settle for desires far below what we were created for. The forces of marketing have captured our imaginations and convinced us to desire mud pies and sneer at the possibility that greater pleasures even exist. We have been reprogrammed to desire immediate satisfaction rather than infinite satisfaction. location 2223

The redemptive affect of sorrow, its power to redirect our desires from the immediate to the infinite, was the subject of an English sermon van Gogh delivered in 1876: Sorrow is better than joy . . . for by the sadness of the countenance, the heart is made better. Our nature is sorrowful, but for those who have learnt and are learning to look at Jesus Christ, there is always reason to rejoice. It is a good word, that of St. Paul: as being sorrowful yet always rejoicing. For those who believe in Jesus Christ, there is no death or sorrow that is not mixed with hope — no despair — there is only a constant being born again, a constantly going from darkness into light. location 2272

Perhaps the complicated interplay of sorrow and joy he recognized in Gethsemane eluded even his artistic brilliance. In 1889, his friends Gauguin and Bernard sent him photographs of their paintings of Christ in the Garden ofOlives. Vincent said the paintings “got on my nerves” perhaps for the same reason he abandoned his own attempt. They could depict Jesus’ suffering, but not the inner joy that led him to accept the Father’s will. Rather than painting Jesus in Gethsemane, Vincent used the olive trees themselves to illustrate the truth of the story. He believed “that one can try to give an impression of anguish without aiming straight at the historic Garden of Gethsemane.”26 Instead, he saw in the contorted trees a representation of Christ’s pain. By giving the olive trees a vaguely human form van Gogh hoped to “make people think” more than if he had depicted Jesus explicitly. In this way the trees could be the symbol of Jesus’ pain as well as his own. location 2292

This kind of pain comes in two varieties — there is suffering we don’t choose, which is often referred to in the New Testament as a “trial,” and there is suffering we do choose, which we call a “discipline.” location 2325

The table of Christ confronts and abolishes our consumer tendencies. It mocks our desire for comfortable community, and it abolishes the principle of homogeneity because we come to the table of Christ as guests and not the host. We have no control or authority over who is invited. Instead we are asked to surrender control and simply take our seat with the other wounded souls redeemed by the broken body and shed blood of Jesus. location 2655

In Starry Night the golden light of the heavens, his color for divine love, is not seen in the church building. Instead, he reserves this sacred hue for the houses of his imaginary village. location 2736

“The structure of the suburb tends to confine people to their houses and cars; it discourages strolling, walking, mingling with neighbors. The suburb is the last word in privatization, perhaps even its lethal consummation, and it spells the end of authentic civic life.” location 2757

Note: this may relate to Actor Network Theory but in any case tells how physical non human stuff affects culture and organisation of humans

In many ways the suburb is the topological manifestation of consumerism, the ethos of commodification lived out in architectural form. Suburban living means dividing life into clearly discernable parts. Professional, recreational, industrial, and residential activities each have their zone. These zones are connected by roads where we drive alone in our cars, minivans, or SUVs. Socioeconomic zones are separated by neighborhoods and school districts. Family zones are demarcated by fences. And within the home, family members are zoned into private bedrooms — each with a television, Internet connection, and telephone. The suburb, like the consumer worldview from which it came, forms us to live fragmented and isolated lives of private consumption. location 2761

most homes are set as far back from public spaces, the street and sidewalk, as possible. The rooms facing the street tend to be the spaces we use least — the formal living room or dining room. The spaces where real life happens, the kitchen and family room, are hidden in the back. Outdoor recreation is also confined to the back of the house, usually behind a fence. Everything about suburban home design communicates to the passerby, “Leave me alone!” location 2774

With no real sense of self apart from our possessions and preferences, every telephone ring, knock at the door, or alert from our inbox is not welcomed as a human-to-human connection, but merely an attempt to invade our personal zone to take some commodified part of “me” away. We instinctually assume that every stranger we meet has a hidden agenda. In our society it has become altogether implausible for anyone to be genuinely interested in us. location 2792

we aren’t actually interacting with real people online but “phantoms.” The medium allows us to abandon real identities to become whoever we want, or whoever we think people want us to. location 2798

Note: this may relate to the idea that in corporisations we are roles rather tha whole people. Do we transfer that or is something else going on? cf also I and Thou and the Secular City

Van Gogh’s painting from 1888 is clearly modeled from Millet’s work, but the sower neither fills the canvas nor dominates the composition. Instead, Vincent’s painting is dominated by a radiant citron-yellow sun that saturates the sky with light. We know from his letters to his friends that van Gogh used yellow light and the sun to represent God. It is Christ who dominates his Sower painting, rather than the humble servant in the field. location 3229

Van Gogh’s painting reminds us that we have a role to play, but we are minor actors in a much larger cosmic drama. Our work certainly matters, but probably not as much as we’d like to think — because ultimately the outcome of our labor is not in our hands. We work, and the world is changed, but exactly how this spiritual impact occurs remains a mystery. location 3237

Rather than abandoning the outcomes to God, we’ve been formed to judge a ministry’s legitimacy, and our own, based on measurable outcomes. The most common are referred to as the ABCs of ministry: attendance, buildings, and cash. If these three factors are increasing, we assume that our ministry is effective, our church is legitimate, and our community is blessed. But what if Jesus, Paul, and Vincent are right? What if the outcome of our labor is beyond our control? What if we are not the primary agents behind bountiful growth or its absence? What if we stopped judging ourselves and others based on outcomes which rightfully belong to God, and rediscovered the humility of the sower — the one who rises day and night, casts the seed upon the ground, and marvels as it grows? location 3257

The shock-and-awe approach to mission is extremely appealing to people shaped by consumerism. location 3278

we ask, How does Coca-Cola impact the world? How does Disney impact the world? How does Starbucks impact the world? And we forget to ask the only question that really matters: How does Jesus impact the world? location 3286

We have incorrectly made the scale of our methods conform to the scale of our mission. location 3288

God’s plan to redeem creation (big) is achieved through his incarnation as an impoverished baby (small). Jesus feeds thousands on a hillside (big) with just a few fish and loaves (small). Christ seeks to make disciples of all nations (big) but he starts with a handful of fishermen (small). Even Goliath (big) is defeated by David with a few stones (small). location 3302

Phil Vischer came to embrace the counterintuitive wisdom of God after losing his Daisy Cutter dream. He now advises other followers of Christ to embrace a mustard seed approach to changing the world: location 3313

The premise of this book has been that the Christian imagination must be free to sing a new song before the world can hear our music. This requires a process of deconstruction and reconstruction: Deconstructing our commodified view of God, and reconstructing a sense of wonder through silence. Deconstructing our branded identities, and reconstructing identities rooted in faith through love. Deconstructing our attempts at transformation through external events, and reconstructing internal transformation through prayer. Deconstructing our devotion to institutions as God’s vessels, and reconstructing relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Deconstructing our unceasing pursuit of pleasure, and reconstructing the redemptive power of suffering through fasting. Deconstructing our contentment with segregation, and reconstructing the unity of all people through the cross. Deconstructing the individualism pushed by consumerism, and reconstructing our love for strangers through hospitality. All of this razing and building begins in our own imaginations. location 3330

the recommendations in this book have been primarily personal disciplines to awaken and transform, rather than calls for changes within the church. Silence, prayer, fasting, love, hospitality, and friendship — these are what I need to loosen consumerism’s hold on me. And it is only when minds are illuminated, imaginations set free, and wounds healed, one by one, that real transformation can come to the church. location 3390


The Divine Commodity: Discovering a Faith Beyond Consumer Christianity: Amazon.co.uk: Zondervan: Books

What's the Buzz

... A nightclub in Newcastle. I've always liked the sculptural sign made of reclaimed metal.

What your shadow does when cut loose

From a wall in east-end Newcastle.

Art needs resistance in the materials

I've been familiar with the concept, indeed I've found it a helpful way in to reflecting on artistic process ever since I came across the idea in the theology (theodicy) of Vanstone in Love's Endeavour, Love's Expense. In it Vanstone (without, I think, making a link to Morris -but I may not be recalling aright) explores the artistic enterprise as dialogic between the ideas of the artist and the capabilities and resistances of the materials. He then explores this as an image of the Creator-creation relationship.
Anyway, good to discover it is something penned also by Wm. Morris.

Limitation and Resistance: Why Freedom Is Overrated in Creativity � canalside view: As the textile artist William Morris said, “You can’t have art without resistance in the materials.”

London Circular Underground map

I just love this kind of thing.
New version of London Underground map shows circles are the way forward | Metro News

Blessed Nativity

The blessings of the Christ child be upon you ...

If you want to know a bit more about the image, well, it's a kind of e-sketch for something I'm working on artistically currently. What's coming together in thinking about the image are several things.

One of these is eikons -or icons- which for me are about conveying a theological 'something' to those who view (which is not the same as eastern Orthodox approaches to iconography where the most important thing is a sacramentality -they are to convey and mediate spiritual presence and encounter). In this case I'm interested in theological motifs such as seeing Mary as a live temple of the Presence; considering Mary as the representative of all creation in forming the body of the Incarnate (hence the globe); affirming the blessing of God in Christ.

Another of the contributory thoughts is also drawing on a traditional rendering of eikons where part of the eikon is highly decorated and overlays the painted board underneath to act as a kind of frame for the main person depicted. In this case that development gives rise to the idea of an eikon within an eikon: the depiction of Mary is the 'framing' eikon for the Christ-embryon -hence the 'window' into the womb. The window is in the form of a sonogram as a relatively contemporary expression of such a 'window'.

I have posted a similar (precursor) image before but this one has been further worked on: the halo behind Mary's head has been completed and the background has been extended to the whole background and worked to be reminiscent of Van Gogh's starry night picture.

pretty -magnified crystalised cocktails

These are lush.
"Bevshot images are made by first crystallizing the drink of choice on a lab slide. Using a standard light microscope with a camera attached, the light source is polarized and passed through the crystal. This creates the magnificent colors we see in our favorite drinks featured on this site."
Alcoholic Cocktails Under the Microscope | Bored Panda:
My faves:

Pine stem fluoresced

 Pine stem cross section, fluorescence microscopy Herbaceous

Tiny melted stuff

 Melt

Chemical melt, polarized light microscopy Herbaceous:

Balsam magnified

: Balsam
Aged candida balsam resin, darkfield microscopy Herbaceous

Herbaceous

Some photographers aim to bring out the visual loveliness of the microscopic world. Art meets science, beautifully. This is an inkjet output under magnification.
Herbaceous

Art sculpts science ... and faith?

I find myself recently both helping to set up a Christians in Science group and to facilitate Christians working in the Arts who are in the University. I find myself, not unnaturally, considering matters that relate the two areas of endeavour. So, this article grabs interest, Can art shape scientific thought? : RSA blogs, in it the author says something intriguing:

What really fascinates me, though, is the idea that collaboration between artists and scientists might move to the level where it actually affects working practice. Scientific breakthroughs radically overhauling art are everywhere (the effect of photographic film on painting is a good example), but this relationship is largely seen as a one-way street. Imagine, instead, a scientific breakthrough that happened because of art.

And it seems to me that the science-to-art traffic has been at a more subtle level latterly: the discovery and popularisation of fractals  and chaos and complexity seemed to inspire art  which reflected those discoveries; organic, random and unpredictable forms became prominent.

But it's right that it'd be great if things could go the other way. However, I think that there is already a way in which the art-to-science dynamic occurs: it's a bit conceptual, but it is aesthetic. I'm talking about the elegance of the mathematics of sub-atomic particles which has inspired the discovery of particles that had been unknown but predicted by the symmetry of the equations. It seems to me that this aesthetic sense has been something of an art-to-science thing.

The author mentions the issue of religion, though somewhat unsatisfactorily. I have written and spoken  elsewhere of how it seems to me that Adam naming the animals helps me, at least, to see a certain commonality between the enterprises of art and science. Both involve 'naming' in the broader sense of conceptualising in order to give expression. In one case for purposes of technical understanding and application, in the other case for purposes of affective understanding and aesthetic appreciation. Both involve perceiving similarities and differences and representing them; in one case in theories and formulae and in the other through aesthetic media (for want of a better term).


The article mentions Kuhn's insight about paradigm shifts, and this is indeed relevant. To put it in terms of 'naming', a paradigm shift involves re-viewing things with a different set of similarities and differences picked out. The trick of an art-to-science influence would be, I suspect, in the presentation of information in such a way as to make plain the metaphoric bases of the thinking and to enable meta-thinking, or at least for new connections and re-constellations of data. For that, we need artists who can grasp something of the science and scientists who are able to mentor the artists so inclined.


I wonder whether this is the way being opened up by Information is Beautiful?

A visual meditation on structured chaos

Also on at the Baltic is this exhibition by Mark Wallinger: 10000000000000000 2012
it "catalogues and compares 65,536 stones, each occupying its own square on a gargantuan checkerboard — the simplest binary device for implying order."

I went to see this with a friend and we had a conversation covering the nature of chance and the random in relation to chaos and the way that we tend to impose order and meaning on our experience. Alan is interested in science fiction as well and mentioned HP Lovecraft's universe where randomness is a keynote in a universe which is indifferent to our existence which gives rise to horror. This was far from horror though: ordered randomness. One of the interesting visual effects was the patches of shadow -was this a lighting effect of areas where the light from the spots was weaker or a kind of cumulative effect of an area of larger stones casting more shadow -or both? But again an illustration of the way that random can accumulate 'lumpiness' where things can accrete together rather than a randomly even distribution.

It was interesting to view the pebbles with a video in the background of men constructing what appeared to be a grid through which one could view the (North?) sea. This seemed resonant of the idea that the relative chaos of the see was being 'ordered' for the viewer into nine squares; contained and yet not contained; ordered yet not really. The nice thing about this, too, was that we see the construction. Of course, often, we don't realise the constructedness of the grids through which we view the world.

immersive music -this is the way to hear choral music

I experienced this at the Baltic today: really loved it. ...
Janet Cardiff ‹ Detail ‹ Exhibitions ‹ What's On ‹ BALTIC: A reworking of the renaissance choral work for forty voices Spem in Alium Nunquam Habui 1573 by Thomas Tallis, The Forty Part Motet consists of forty separately recorded voices played back through forty individual speakers grouped in eight choirs of five singers. The work allows the audience to get inside the music and experience it almost tangibly as the voices weave in and out of each other.�

The thing is I love Tallis' music; so that was a first 'good'. Then, I like to sing choral music; second good. But then this way to hear it is brilliant. Normally, I hear choral music either from a fixed point within the choir I'm singing in or from in front of a choir (or a speaker or two). But this is great: to be able to be in the middle of the 'choir' and to be able to wander around and to move towards or to move the head to listen more closely to a particular voice or group of voices -lovely.

I even like the way that the sequence starts with the clearing throats and small talk of the members of the choir before they are called together to sing together.

I think that music is often a more immersive art form anyway -but this ups that by allowing the listener to be 'inside' a ring of sound. I liked, too, the opportunity to tune into more particular parts and the greater sense that could give of closing in on a performer in a way that would be embarrassing or offputting if it were a live performance similarly arranged.

Nice.

The Bank of England ruined

Earlier this evening I attended a lecture in which a picture of this painting was shown.

It is by an architectural artist called Joseph Gandy. The image really grabbed me. Some of what grabbed me I found  picked up in a Guardian article about the artist.

Gandy painted a fantasy view of the Bank of England - Soane's proudest work - in ruins. The City of London is imagined as a swampy wilderness, as desolate as the Roman Forum in the dark ages. It is the earliest example in Europe of a drawing in which an architect imagines a structure he has built as a ruin. At one level, it is a meditation on the future of the British Empire. Babylon and Memphis, Carthage, Athens, and Rome ... why not London?

This picture is beautiful in its craftsmanship but it also appeals to the part of me that loves the 'what if...' that lies behind much sci-fi. But I noted that the slide told us that it was painted in 1830 when the British Empire was really getting into its swing -the financial heart would be this building. But then I realised that this picture does something else that I tend to appreciate in a good sci-fi story: it relativises human pretensions; we are confronted with the reminder that 'this too shall pass'; that all our grand achievements are insignificant, transitory; vanitas vanitorum; kol hebel. And as Empire gains strength, this painting seems to say, prophetically, "Fallen is Babylon ..."

Techno posthuman curated from a future: the art of Elizabeth Price

I've just been to the Baltic and seen Elizabeth Price's video triptych (my designation of the three works). I loved it/them. The pieces spoke to me in ways I'm still going over in my head and trying to piece together. That in itself is very satisfying: I like artworks that grab me 'behind' my conscious thinking and which I then have to think over and ruminate on to unpack the experience.

It seems to me that the description of Skye Sherwin captures it well:

post-human worlds that seem dedicated to the preservation of museum rarities, pound-shop tat, designer appliances and modernist furniture, all glimmering with a cold allure. The objects have taken over: these groomed rooms bear no trace of people's lives. Our guides to these worlds take the form of a vaguely threatening "we" that speaks through disembodied captions popping up silently on screen, as techno rhythms pulse or choirs call out in numb harmonies. (from: Artist of the week 147: Elizabeth Price | Art and design | guardian.co.uk:)

I  am  finding it hard not to see some theology in one thread of this collection. I suspect the artist would be intrigued or horrified to discover a theologian relating to it so. But I found the central piece 'Choir' seemed to counterpoint the eternal matters referenced in the cathedral quires of the first part of the video with the fire-destroyed consumer goods of the second part. It seems to me that there is a comment somehow on the bonfire of the vanities that is consumer culture. This ironic look at consumer culture seems to come through in the trio of works. As if the putative view from the posthuman future manages to radically relativise consumer values in a way that is akin to the transcendent perspectives that we (try to) connect with in theology.

In Choir, according to the interview with ms Price, there is a gesture which connects the various parts: a piece of sculpture in a quire and a gesture made by one of the evacuees of the Woolworth's fire and a dancer in the disco footage. but the more enduring images in terms of arrest and memory are of the plans, the rectilinear rooms within a room of the quire, the furniture store and the fire-experiment forensic room.
I just found it hard not also to be hearing in my head 'our God is a consuming fire'.

Ms Sherwin says she likes Price's " fevered User Group Disco, which imagines a museum where we're told monsters still exist." So do I like it. Though, as I recall, we weren't so much told that monsters still exist so much as that monsters had not all been eliminated. In the follow-on context of the video, the transhuman-futurist perspective was redolent of Alien; almost making the present world of domesticity look like a place that could harbour the beasts that remove us (Prometheus?). Perhaps, in this way, there is a warning...

I found the collection and composition also very witty. I laughed out loud at various points: I loved the ironic and satirical juxtapositions and commentaries. -Again, I'm assuming that I'm reading it something like aright. I think I might enjoy this artist's sense of humour in real face-to-face encounter.

What else am I unpacking? The borg-like voice and typographic presence (often speaking in corporate-advertising soundbites as if phrases have been picked up as the basic building blocks -a Star Trek Next Gen allusion, perhaps) The shiney metals and 60's visual styling which along with the upbeat music somehow comes over all Pearl and Dean cinema advertising -thus increasing the sense of been sold too. Then there is the poignancy of the cars which seem to be designed for all sorts of things that they will never, at the bottom of the see, 'experience'. If that's not a study in Qohelethic vanity, I'm not sure what is.

Despite my usually-better half reckoning it 'arty farty nonsense', I'm hoping to return to ponder further before it moves out of the Baltic.

Art and the flow of spacetime

I have long enjoyed and admired Andy Goldsworthy's art. These are examp0les directly picking up the link from Andy's site (and are copyright to him, hence I've merely linked through to them not copied them). Here's one:

Or this: 

 You'll perhaps pick up form these that Andy's work involves natural materials and these are, in variying degrees, ephemeral. The presentation of the art is to a public is lrgely through the photographs as the 'original' tends to gain entropy and returns to the flow of energy and matter that we call nature. Here's somethoing of what Andy says of his work.

I have become aware of raw nature is in a state of change and how that change is the key to understanding. I want my art to be sensitive and alert to changes in material, season and weather. ... All forms are to be found in nature, and there are many qualities within any material. By exploring them I hope to understand the whole. My work needs to include the loose and disordered within the nature of material as well as the tight and regular.

See Andy Goldsworthy - Philosophy. It's also worth checking out here

I recently was given a book token as a thank you present. I used it to buy an Andy Goldsworthy book (Time). It has got me thinking about all sorts of things developing further some of my theological thinking about art in the purposes of God. I think i feel a meditation coming on. In this case about order, chaos and the artistic endeavour where some of Andy's methodology helps to appreciate a particular theological approach drawn from Genesis 1 and possibly drawing on a key (for me) insight from Vanstone's Love's Endeavour, Love's Expense. I've not time to develop it at the moment but hopefully in the next month or two, there will be time.

Also look at the images here.