Thursday 22 January 2009

Journeys through life and art

I recently read a wonderful story 'A Need to Believe," by Daniel Pinchbeck, about his father's life and work as an unrecognised abstract expressionist. This is my response to his article.

Years ago as an aspiring poet and artist, I lived and worked in a poky pub in Greenwich village London, pulling pints of brown swill for an endless procession of tourists who filed up the hill to the Observatory. They stopped to sample T&J Bernard's podgy pies and complain about the shabby British service. None of the staff in the Tavern were British and I had my suspicions about Hussein’s pie preparation. We were grossly understaffed and overstretched to maximize profit margins. The Kings Arms Tavern was more Mcfranchise than English tradition, with hundreds of identically furnished establishments placed strategically along tourist routes, and appropriately priced for customers who were never likely to return. T&J's authentic pub experience could be relied upon to dampen moods more thoroughly than the insipid London weather, and I marvelled at how many people travelled so far to have such a thoroughly awful time.
My parents, worrying that I had been drifting aimlessly for far too many years, visited me from New Zealand, sugesting that I return to finish a Degree. They looked doubtful when Hussein reassured them that I was doing all right. I personally felt less in need of orientating influences than the aged tourists who hoped to capture 'Greenwich Mean Time,' on their video cameras, or any other edification the Observatory might offer. Being so desperately short on time, I wondered if they sat in the pub contemplating how a life of hard work and responsibility was culminating in the abject suffering of an eternity waiting for Hussein’s podgy pies. I cheered myself by reassuring the most miserable whingers that at least that much of their experience was thoroughly English.
In the evenings, the locals would filter back in, wary from their grey office jobs, and resign themselves to their places in front of the slot machines. Or take in the England Germany game, resuscitating the tired glories of "two world wars and one world cup," in a histrionic chorus of drunken song.

At the local markets, I bought a book on Ancient Chinese Landscape art. Opening its dusty cover revealed a world far removed from the pies and pokies of the tavern; it elevated my imaginings to the mystical peaks of Taoist philosophy. The landscapes and accompanied writings danced with poetic and mystical significance, speaking of the lost ancient world of the Chinese philosopher sages whose beautiful scrolls revealed “waves of silence” their mountainous peaks shrouded by “intangible, instinctive, and emotional perceptions, such as flavour and resonance, which escape recognition by the eye and definition by the mind, and defy linear drawing.” The writing was unapologetically romantic, yielding an ethereal quality in words and images, sentiments of a profound spiritual reverence for nature that I felt was sadly absent from the mediocre world around me. Inspired by youthful idealism and romantic escapist fantasies I copied into my diary a sentence that had particular resonance. “By freeing oneself progressively from the demands of false ideals, academia, and stylistic convention, the minds contact with the surrounding universe becomes correspondingly closer.”

Worn down by the monotony of menial jobs I eventually returned to New Zealand to finish a degree in Fine Arts, mindful of the polarities between the business materialism of the commercial art world and the joyful child like purity of undiluted creative freedom. Reading this wonderful story about your father’s life and work has prompted me to recollect this episode in my life, stimulating my contemplation of the relationships between the grating callings of life and responsibility, and the romantic artistic struggle for pure authenticity and sublime creative release.


The need to believe available: http://www.realitysandwich.com/need_believe


In his paintings Wang Wei could sugest the indescribable and the unshapable, instinctive and emotion perceptions such as flavour and resonance which escape recognition by the eye and definition by the mind and defy linear drawing. He could capture those ineffable perfumes and waves of silence which can only be siezed upon by a highly aware sensability and picked up by a heart that is perfectly calm, devoid of egotistical desire and fully contemplative, an echo chamber at the centre of being wich must not be desturbed by interuptive inner sounds. The heart should be a celestial promenade. The depths of the heart must remain permeable to the influx of heaven

Thursday 15 January 2009

Yeats, the Magical Visionary

Yeats, the Magical Visionary


The following excerpt is from an article by William McGillis


Yeats thought himself to be one of the last of the classical Romantics; he celebrated the power of imagination to help people see and empathize deeply, he recognized the dangers of abstract reasoning divorced from imagination and the natural world, and he sought a kind of lost knowledge not taught in schools or churches. Yeats rejected realistic, imitative art. He believed that only art that recognized and celebrated the panpsychic power of imagination, myth, and symbol could reveal the deeper truths and intuitive meanings underlying everyday experience. In his poem “Who Goes with Fergus?” Yeats invokes the ancient king of Irish legend who abandoned his high office and its grating, relentless demands to head to the woods and learn the mysterious “dreaming wisdom” of the Druid priests.

For Fergus rules the brazen cars,

And rules the shadows of the wood,

And the white breast of the dim sea

And all dishevelled wandering stars.

Fergus is a hero of the imagination who leaves the everyday human world to revel in the mysteries of nature and spirit. The “shadows of the wood” and “the white breast of the dim sea” represent primeval knowledge and beauty that can only be glimpsed through experiences of wilderness solitude, trance, magic, and meditation. Full of fantasies of a better world, the young Yeats struggled to accept regular life on earth and sought desperately to find a way into other dimensions of space and time. In “The Stolen Child,” he portrays an alluring, otherworldly kingdom that calls us from the frustrations of everyday life to the eerie phantasm of the faery dance.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses

The dim grey sands with light,

Far off by furthest Rosses

We foot it all the night,

Weaving olden dances,

Mingling hands and mingling glances

Till the moon has taken flight;

To and fro we leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

While the world is full of troubles and is anxious in its sleep

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

The landscape is lit up with moonlight, under which things dark and hidden become visible. The powerful faeries (creatures who in Celtic tradition are emphatically not small, cute, or winged) call the poet to “the waters and the wild,” the fluid, frothy, and sometimes freaky realm of visionary trance and imagination.

Available: http://www.realitysandwich.com/yeats_magical_visionary





New Zealand Herald Debate on Tibet/China conflict

Nick (Auckland)
A group of prominent Chinese intellectuals recently called on their government to begin talks with the Dalai Lama and allow UN investigators into Tibet. In an open letter, a group of 30 writers, university professors and rights activists urged the Communist Party to hold direct dialogue with the Dalai Lama. It seems there are different view points on the Tibetan conflict even within the Chinese community. My understanding is that the Dalai Lama does not want independence but rather "a meaningful degree of autonomy under Chinese rule". This would allow the Tibetan people the freedom to practice ideological/cultural forms that differ from Chinese Communism without the fear of persecution. Currently the cultural values of the Tibetan people are being systematically erased by the Chinese government. I acknowledge that Western countries are also guilty of trampling on human rights, and N.Z. Pakeha have a chequered history in relation to the Maori. Do Chinese people think China could benefit from dialogue with the Tibetan people like New Zealand has benefited from dialogue with the Maori through the Treaty of Waitangi?

Wayne Lo (Hong Kong)
Nick (Auckland): you say "cultural values of the Tibetan people are being systematically erased by the Chinese government." This is wrong. If the Chinese wished to 'systematically' erase Tibetan culture, they would have done this when China was completely shut off from the outside world during the first 30 years of the PRC, when the government was openly anti-religion, anti-old traditions - of all of China's ethnic groups, including the majority Han. Just think. About 2million Tibetans in 1950, 450million Chinese. If there was ever any intention at cultural or physical genocide, the Tibetans would have disappeared as quickly as the Tasmanian aborigines.Yet in the first 60 years of 'colonial' Chinese rule, Tibetan population,life expectancy has doubled. Compare this with the situation in NZ between 1840 and 1900. Maori population declined from 200,000 to 50,000 (6% of population). Tibetans are still 90% of Tibet. But yes, Tibetan traditions are being eroded-but not by the Chinese. Instead by a process called 'modernization.' In respect of this I refer you to the wonderfully nuanced posts of one Mark Anthony Jones.http:/www.blackandwhitecat.org/2008/04/01/separatism-and-tibet/

Nick (Auckland)
Wayne Lo (Hong Kong): You make some valid points about the negative impact of colonial rule on indigenous cultures. However, I think it is wrong to site Maori population decline from 1840-1900 as a comparative moral victory for China's conduct in Tibet. There were mitigating factors in Maori population decline during that period such as the use of the musket in inter-tribal warfare and European diseases. I suggest ethical standards are a more exacting measure of our countries different colonial attitudes. Maori are not tortured for exercising freedom of speech, waving the Maori flag, or voicing support for Tino Rangatiratanga (Maori sovereignty). I am grateful that we have a forum here for open debate. Maori also have a high percentage of representation in New Zealand parliament. What percentage of representation do Tibetan people have in Chinese politics? I question the figures you present on Chinese population transfer. "Tibetans are still 90% of Tibet." This from the Tibetan government in exile website. "In Tibet today there are over 7.5 million non-Tibetan settlers including Chinese and Hui Muslims while Tibetans inside Tibet comprise only six million. The increasing Chinese population transfer into Tibet has reduced the Tibetan people to a minority group in their own land.”
Your earlier comments have prompted me to further research the Tibetan issue from a Chinese perspective, and the historical context which gave rise to the Peoples Republic. The gross exploitation of the Chinese at the hands of imperialist powers during the Opium Wars, and invasions by multiple foreign powers until WWII places the preceding hard-line PRC policies in a more understandable context. But this does not make totalitarianism any less frightening. I am glad that the Chinese modernization of Tibet has aided in the dissemination of the profound wisdom of Tibetan Buddhism to a world that is currently destroying itself. This Tibetan conflict is symptomatic of a much larger problem that all of humanity is embroiled in. How can we live together on this earth without destroying each other and the planet?

Wayne Lo (Hong Kong)
Nick of Auckland: I appreciate your efforts to appreciate the Chinese perspective.My figures are for the Tibetan Autonomous Region. Tibetan exile groups are hardly a non-biased source, but in any case their figures, are I believe for all of what they consider to be the historical Tibet - not just the TAR. But thanks - I will look more into this.I take your point about the differences in circumstance between Maoris and Tibetans, which caused the decline (initially) of the former, although my main point stands. There was never any attempt at genocide against the Tibetans, contrariwise the Chinese govt has improved the lives of Tibetans in countless objective ways.It is true that there is less freedom of speech in China than in NZ. But you imply that Tibetans are singled out for particularly rough treatment. This is untrue. The human rights problems, real or perceived, are no more, no less than for all other Chinese. Even during the Cultural Revolution, there was no campaign against Tibetans. There was a campaign against all Chinese culture of all nationalities. In fact most of the damage to Tibetan cultural relics at the time was by Tibetan Red Guards - the sons of former serfs.