Richibi’s Weblog

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Category: philosophy

why I write

why I write, just click

the information that either music or
art deliver isn’t intellectual, in the
sense that it isn’t driven by any
discernible logic

it’s a logic of the heart, which follows
other, inscrutable, principles

“Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison
ne connaît point.”,
the heart has its
reasons which reason can never
ever fathom – Blaise Pascal

therefore art

Richard

my C***mas card‏

          Madonna and Child with Canon Joris van der Paele - Jan van Eyck

           Madonna and Child with Canon Joris van der Paele” 

                                                (1436)

                                          Jan van Eyck

                                                           _______

 
though I’ve long professed to not being
a Christian, having opted for the more
colourful pageant of Ancient Greece’s
Olympian divinities, and its attendant
metaphysical perspective, wherein
nature is honoured for its bounty
rather than saddled with the guilt of
Original – I ask you – Sin, I nevertheless
revere the spirit that spurred great
painters to such spectacular, even
exalted, heights  
 
in Bruges we saw van Eyck‘s Madonna
the blue of the prelate’s cape on the left
still reverberates in my subconscious
 
as though I’d discovered a new colour
 
 
the blue on the right on St George, the
patron saint of van der Paele, who
commissioned the painting, rendered
appropriately humble, even kneeling, 
in white, is only slightly less impressive
for being not less pungent but more pale,
noble yet understated, gold armour doing
the definitive rest
 
the ecclesiastic is St Donatian, patron
saint of Bruges, who knew how to
dress, apparently, for so vaunted an 
occasion  
 
 
merry C***mas
 
may your capes ever be as eloquent 
 
may your blues be ever as sublime   
 
 
Richard
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Beethoven Strinq Quartet no 14, opus 131‏

if Beethoven had written merely one transcendental
work we would still have been beholden, but that he
wrote neither two, nor three, but several immutable
pieces is extraordinary, super-, apparently, human,
though, of course, manifestly not, unless you want
to bring Jesus into the picture as such a dual being,
then we’ll talk, but Beethoven is a staunchly secular
voice, devoid of the spiritual considerations of a
Bach, for instance, Beethoven speaks for humanity,
its longings, consternations, aspirations, its essence,
no longer the discredited primacy of the Cross and
Its imperial derivatives, Human Rights have trumped
God

what Beethoven maintains however is the reverence,
his later pieces – you’ve heard the Hammerklavier“,
already, the 32nd piano sonata – are manifestly
spiritual experiences, as opposed to religious

the 14th String Quartet will do the same

if the Hammerklavier is akin to Moses delivering
his peremptory tablets, the 14th String Quartet is
the Sermon on the Mount, in the history of music
they have so great an impact

briefly, as briefly as I can, I’ll say a few introductory
words, then let your soul and the music do the rest,
see what happens to your karma

there are seven movements in the 14th, uninterrupted,
no pauses between the movements, though each is
easily identifiable, tempo therefore becomes incidental
instead of Classically ordered, the first movement, for
instance, is an adagio, a Classically improbable spot

the sections therefore play much as chapters in a
novel, advancing according to the logic and emotions
of the moment, always, as in all of Beethoven, moving
inexorably forward despite the intricacies of the, not at
all predictable, plot, as had been the case in the more
regimented Classical model, Beethoven takes you,
instead of around the corner, into the clouds, into a
spiritualized heaven, a place of profound existential
introspection

try listening to the 14th String Quartet attentively
without thinking about your soul, its existence,
its mission, in the very face of its ineradicable,
and fateful, actuality, the human conundrum,
Beethoven lets us know we’re not alone

some mountaintop Sermon indeed, watch what
happens to your sensibility, your very sacred
self, or maybe I should say, listen

may your path be decked meanwhile with laurels,
and your days be blessed with grace, be it ever
so merely, maybe, human

who knows

sincerely

Richard

psst: if you’ll allow me to pursue my series of
similarities you’ll imagine piano sonata
no 32
as Beethoven’s “Last Supper”,
this one in particular five luminous stars

Beethoven’s piano sonata no 29, “Hammerklavier”, revisited, as promised

upon listening to Beethoven’s 29th sonata
one doesn’t imagine its originality, having
been showered for centuries now with its
miracles and majesties, nothing would’ve
been heard like it before, so great a project,
a work of not only temporal magnitude, an
astonishing fifty minutes, but evidently of
more than just mere entertainment, a work
of philosophical, even, amplitude

Beethoven is not just trying to delight, he’s
trying to engage here, bring together, stir,
more profound human responses, evoke
thought, responsibility, compassion, a
spiritual complicity in the new
post-Revolutionary secular order, he is
establishing new metaphysical ground

the subject is existential, the audience
no longer merely aristocratic, masses
now were talking, an affluent bourgeoisie,
artists were responding to a new Romantic
Age, about rights, and what it means to be
human, both men and women, incidentally
– and I stress that newly pertinent at the time
conjunction – above and beyond those of
God, for each couldn’t both hold the
supreme, the earlier Classical, pinnacle,
the rights of Gods and, by extension,
Kings, Queens if you lived in England,
Russia

secularism was needing new oracles

see Elizabeth Barrett Browning, for
instance, for the emergence of
women

see also, of course, otherwise,
Beethoven

the difference with Beethoven is that
he achieved, ultimately, profound
wisdom, I can think of no other
comparable poet, save, of course,
Marcel Proust, both of whom proved
to be, in the same breath, philosophers,
able to stake that exalted claim, certainly
no painter, a difficult medium through
which to philosophize admittedly, to
bring logical and existential constructions
together to enunciate a transcendental
vision

then again, before Proust and Beethoven,
who’d ‘a’ thunk one could’ve transformed
words or music into very grace, mystically
transubstantiated gold, notwithstanding
the misguided alchemists

Pink Floyd did some of that in the Seventies
but retreated into historic and more personal,
less oracular, reminiscences, philosophizing
isn’t easy, see the punishment of Prometheus,
or, for that matter, John Lennon

Beethoven was completely deaf by the time
he composed the Hammerklavier“, lost in
his own isolation, like Homer, blind to,
though obviously not unaware of, his art

not lost, not unaware either, more like
having been given extrasensory, outright
extraordinary, manifestly, perception

to our utter and everlasting, both of them,
benefit

Richard

“Mrs Dalloway”‏

if you’re not afraid of Virginia Woolf
you might enjoy Mrs Dalloway“, the 
film version of one of her novels,
introspective, discreet ever, and 
only carefully and politely ever ardent,
existentially awash in civilities, with
feeble only attempts at philosophically
sounder, maybe, positions, all ultimately,
of course, inconclusive, an aristocratic
inversion of Van Gogh, but with statelier,
which is to say, more opulent, 
surroundings and, of course, corollary
attendant pretensions, all of it, incidentally, 
marvelously filmed  
 
the performances are all first rate, with
Vanessa Redgrave being, as usual,
resplendent
 
but Rupert Graves, as the shell-shocked
First-World-War veteran, turns in a
wrenching performance, one you’re not
likely to soon forget, one pointedly at
odds with the gentried airs of the rest of
the story, a terse, and damning, Woolfian
comment, who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf 
indeed, the institutionalization of
murderous insensitivities, and the
consequent blight of the blunting
of love  
 
nor did Virginia Woolf survive her own
condemnation, of course, famously
taking her own life in 1941   
 
 
all the other performances here are 
impeccable, up, admirably, each, to
the illustrious task  
 
I could’ve done without the two
time periods, however, Virginia Woolf,
the wordsmith, had it all going in her,
which is to say, Mrs Dalloway’s, 
sedentary head, leading up to her,
their, climactic party
 
 
may Septimus Warren Smith meanwhile,
and all others like him, rest ever in
ascendant, and proliferating, peace       
 
  
Richard
 
 
 
 

Beethoven piano sonata no 29, the “Hammerklavier”

take a few minutes, well, nearly an hour,
to watch, imbibe, incorporate, integrate,
this video, to smell this miraculous
flower, Beethoven’s piano sonata no 29,
the monumental Hammerklavier“, the
equivalent, to my mind, of the Eiffel
Tower, the Coliseum, the Parthenon,
Homer’s Iliad“, I promise it will
transform you

I’ll talk about it later, I also promise

Richard

psst: you might need some Kleenex