The beauty of imperfection

Richard Avedon :: portrait of Marella Agnelli :: 1959

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Throughout Western history, the concept of beauty has always been associated with the idea of perfection. In ancient Greece, the definition of beautiful was structurally linked to notions of order, symmetry and clarity, and to the presence of proportions defined as harmonic. In the Middle Ages, Christianity gave beauty a symbolic dimension by interpreting it as divine attributes, such as goodness and truth – in this sense, also linked to the idea of perfection. And although Renaissance brought relativistic concepts, which incorporated cultural and socio-economic aspects to the concept of beauty, it was not until the seventeenth century that subjectivity began to permeate the notion of beauty (thus giving rise to the concept of “taste”).

 

In the second half of the eighteenth century, the social upheavals in Europe created a favorable environment for the revival of Ancient Greece and Rome’s ideals of beauty, widely used in the representative images of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Empire. And it was precisely at that moment that Kant emerged, the first thinker to move the center of existence of beauty from the object to the subject. The division that Kant established between ‘judgment of knowledge’ (which creates concepts based on the object’s properties) and ‘aesthetic judgment’ (arising from the personal reaction of the beholder before the object) defined the foundations of contemporary aesthetics. The beauty is no longer only in what is seen, and also lies in the eyes that see.

 

The Kantian thought paved the way for the great aesthetic ruptures that took place between the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century. The ideas of uniqueness, individuality, pleasure, emotion, power, courage, vitality, and others, were incorporated into the concept of beautiful. We were able to understand that there is beauty in perfection, but also that perfection is not a prerequisite of beauty. We sharpened our capacity of perception and expanded the possibility of giving pleasure to our souls. We began to admire the crystal clear voice of Nat King Cole as much as Chet Baker’s insecure voice; the classic proportions of Grace Kelly’s face, and the exotic and voluptuous features of Sophia Loren; the dense beauty of Raushenberg’s work and the almost superficial pop art of Warhol.

 

A few decades later, the path of apparent freedom curiously ended up leading us to an imprisonment. Stimulated by an industry that is interdisciplinarily structured in mass production and overestimation of youth to generate profits, the search for a beauty ideal – for the perfect beauty – has never been as exacerbated as today. In an insane and endless process, men and women throw themselves on a journey towards that which is nothing but a collective imaginary construction. And by abandoning their own beauty to (try to) attain the other, they live eternally unhappy, wandering along this path.

 

We need to rescue the wealth of plurality and the beauty that lies in imperfection. We need to remember the weirdness of Dovima. The eyes of Serge Gainsbourg, the teeth of Lauren Hutton. The mouth of Mick Jagger, the eyebrows of Frida Kahlo and the lines of Grace Jones. And, above all, remember the words of Leonard Cohen, who, in his song ‘Anthem’ from 1992, said:
“…Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

Simplicity and style

Elsa Peretti :: photo by Duane Michals :: Vogue, 1974

Elsa Peretti :: photo by Duane Michals :: Vogue, 1974

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elsa Peretti is perhaps the greatest responsible for the contemporary image of Tiffany & Co. Since her first collection for the brand in 1974, the Italian designer has been creating beautiful objects and jewelry that are characterized by an organic simplicity and an unmistakable formal elegance – attributes that have kept her work among the best sellers of the company over the past 40 years.

 

Born in Florence in 1940, Elsa revealed her creative, curious and free spirit in a very early age. Daughter of a magnate of the oil industry, while still young she distanced herself from her conservative parents to spend time in Switzerland, and teach Italian and ski. Back in Italy, she graduated in interior design in Rome and, after breaking her engagement, moved to Milan and began working with the architect Dado Torrigiani. In the following year, 1963, she moved to Barcelona and began her career as a model, and plunged into the fascinating world of Catalan artists and architects – in particular Gaudi, a declared influence to her. Fascinated by the sculptural forms, she traveled to Japan and Hong Kong to immerse in Asian art and symbolism; finally, in 1968, she emigrated to the United States and went to live in New York (according to her, the best place to enjoy one’s youth at that time).

 

When walking the runways for Halston, Sant’ Angelo and De La Renta, Elsa noticed her special interest in the design of jewelry and accessories. With her somewhat rebellious personality, refined esthete perception and proximity to the fashion world, she quickly realized that the language that was emerging in clothing design (characterized by the combination of comfort, practicality and sensuality) should also permeate dressing accessories. Then she began her wax modeling work with abstract, simple and organic shapes inspired by the forms of nature; later, by dipping them in silver, she created beautiful pieces, attractive because of their clean and innovative design and their superb execution. Only 5 years separated her first necklace creation to her contract with Tiffany – and by the time the renowned jewelry brand launched her first collection, all her pieces of work were already sold out.

 

Elsa Peretti usually says that her work comes from her life. And there is no doubt that every one of her creations reflects her personality and the way she sees the world: her passion for nature, whose shapes she copies and then reinvents; her tireless curiosity, that moves her in search of various materials and production processes; her devotion to craftsmanship, that makes each creation the result of hard and investigative manual work; and her eternal rebellion that keeps the flame of questioning alive in her.

 

Even today, there is no model more perfect for Elsa Peretti’s creations than herself. Style (which, according to the designer herself, does not go with excesses), beauty, simplicity, competence, elegance and personality – to see, wear, admire and learn.

 

To learn more: http://elsaperettidesign.blogspot.com.br

Intolerance

'Intolerance: Love's Struggle Throughout the Ages' :: D. W. Griffith :: 1916

‘Intolerance: Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages’ :: D. W. Griffith :: 1916

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Intolerance: Love’s Struggle Throughout the Ages’ was launched in 1916 by DW Griffith. With unprecedented production costs at the time, this silent film is about 4 hours long and, through the dramatization of a poem by Walt Whitman, interconnects four episodes in human history which were deeply marked by intolerance: the war of Babylon in Mesopotamia (about 6 centuries BC); the crucifixion of Christ in 33, in Judea; the night of St. Bartholomew, in sixteenth-century France; and the love of two young people during a workers’ strike in the United States of modern times.

 

The bigotry against opinions, attitudes, beliefs or ways of being that differ from our own, and the resulting repression, through coercion or force, of ideas we disapprove of, have been the source of huge suffering and countless atrocities throughout history. The inability to accept and coexist with diversity is perhaps one of the greatest evils we can bring upon ourselves.

 

A few days ago, the judgment on the decriminalization of abortion of anencephalic fetuses generated a discussion of great impact on public opinion in Brazil. Amid articles and protests, a story written by a major newspaper caught my eye. Two women were interviewed for this article: the first woman reported her suffering for being forced to gestate an anencephalic fetus for 9 months – even appealing to several courts, she did not obtain authorization for an abortion in time to do it safely. She said she spent 9 months preparing for the funeral of a child she never got to meet, and that the experience was traumatic enough to make her give up another pregnancy.

 

The second interview was with a woman who had a pregnancy of an anencephalic fetus, but unlike the first, chose to follow through with the pregnancy, convinced that this was the right thing to do. As the mother of a three-year old boy, she had just buried her stillborn, and expected to recover physically to try another pregnancy.

 

What caught my attention in the interviews was not to see that, when faced with the same challenge, two people (in similar socio-economic and cultural conditions) had such different postures – but the fact that, while the former advocated the right to choice, the second firmly condemned anyone who would make a different choice from hers. Even worse, she argued that there was no choice to be made – after all, if her conduct was “obviously” the right one, why should we allow someone to make a “wrong” choice?

 

At the heart of the denial of the legitimacy of different opinions, attitudes, beliefs or ways of being lie vanity and arrogance. Judging that others are less competent to make choices and choose paths and believing that our truth must be accepted by others show how much more we need to evolve as human beings and citizens. Thousands of years later, after much knowledge acquired, so many discoveries and technologies, we still allow intolerance to enslave the freedom of choice to which we are all entitled.

 

To learn more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GF7ho_-1aWo

A non-style guide

La Parisienne :: Inès de la Fressange et Sophie Gachet :: Ed. Flammarion :: 2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since its launch in 2010, much has been said about the book by Inès de la Fressange and Sophie Gachet. In fact, this is a great book: the text is full of humor, grace and vivacity; the illustrations (made by Inès herself) convey the same attributes, with some delicacy and even a bit of irony on herself; the photos (by Sophie and Inès) reveal a particular and unpretentious look on objects and places; and the information… well, who would not like to have a list of addresses to the less obvious and best products and services in Paris?

 

At a closer look, however, the book proves to be much more than a ‘style guide’ – a title not included in the original publication (simply “La Parisienne”), but added to the title in its English version (“Parisian chic: a style guide by Inès de la Fressange”), and also adopted in the Portuguese version (“A Parisiense: o guia de estilo de Inès de la Fressange”).

 

The term ‘guide’ implies in a work with rules and instructions that, if followed, are able to ensure the success of a certain project or attitude. But the notion that there is a formula, a recipe for being ‘chic’ (!) or to have ‘style’ is diametrically opposed to the thought that develops throughout the book – and it becomes clear right at its very beginning: “You need to learn to take liberties with the categorical statements… Some rules were made to be broken… Do you like orange dress with yellow shoes? Go ahead, people will follow you eventually!”

 

I believe that the great merit of the book is, in fact, to stimulate reflection and understanding on ourselves, and to value individual expression – whether in dressing, living or consuming. To read something like: “(The Parisian) is not one to spend all her salary in a must-have. First because she has no money, and second because she believes she is as talented as a stylist: why overpay for an outfit that she could have imagined herself?” is far more instructive than getting to know Inès’ particular view on how to match shoes and dresses.

 

Or this: “Why think that it is absolutely necessary to pay millions to have art at home? Have your children’s favorite drawings framed… Acrylic magnetic frames will transform any piece of paper you value, even a message scribbled on a napkin… “Is it really important to know where the acrylic magnetic paintings are from? No, what is relevant is the notion that each individual decides what they want to frame – that which is most valuable.

 

To have style is to know yourself and be clear about your preferences; it is to know what gives you pleasure, what coexists in harmony with your way of moving, thinking, acting, and living. And make each choice, consequently, an expression of individuality. To have style is to be aware of one’s uniqueness – and enjoy this condition with joy and pleasure.

 

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The power of doubt

Victor Brauner :: ‘The Triumph Of Doubt’ :: 1946

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We live in an era of certainty – or pseudocertainty. Ways of being, dressing or behaving, answers to questions or attitudes in response to situations appear to be unique, obvious and unarguable. In times of ‘personal services’ (trainer, shopper, organizer, stylist…!!!), self-help books and “how-to” handbooks (not to mention contemporary bibles such as Google and Wikipedia), not being able to keep up with the “must-bes” or “must-haves”, or not having the instant (and expected) answer to any questioning appears to be a sign of ignorance or weakness.

 

In 2008, in an interview to Franthiesco Ballerini, correspondent to the Brazilian newspaper Estadao in Los Angeles – in a context of criticism on television for its power to destroy reflection capacity – the award-winning actor Alan Arkin made an interesting observation: “Today, when you ask a question to a young person, they always have an answer. People no longer reflect before answering. Nobody says ‘let me think about it’. Even Einstein used to say this all the time, and he was reasonably smart.”

 

Doubt is one of the major human development drivers, and the capacity to reflect is one of our greatest assets. Certainty and unanimity are not only stupid, they are also stagnant – one can only grow, both socially and individually, through constant questioning. Those who do not say to themselves “I don’t know, I need to think about it” do not know the pleasure of listening to themselves – to their soul, reason and feelings – and of building their own identity.

 

Enjoying freedom of thought, exercising emotional and intellectual skills, taking ownership for one’s own way of being, dressing or behaving, as well as being whole and worthy in responses and attitudes towards life (well aware of the responsibilities involved in them) is one of the greatest pleasures human beings can indulge themselves in – and it’s the most elegant way of living life, unique as it is.

Where our eyes are turned to

Arthur Bispo do Rosário :: ‘Manto da Apresentação’ :: sem data

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is assumed that Arthur Bispo do Rosario lived for about 80 years – no one knows the exact year of his birth. He spent 50 of these years as an intern at an old mental hospital in Rio de Janeiro called Juliano Moreira, being 25 continuous years until his death in 1989.

 

As a black man, grandson of slaves, poor and migrant, he tried to survive in Rio de Janeiro as a janitor, caretaker, building doorman, employee of a public utility company and bodyguard of politicians, until he was considered “a paranoid schizophrenic”. In a context marked by the rise of fascism – including Brazil, where the acting Brazilian League for Mental Hygiene took a hygienist, racist and xenophobic approach – he was subjected to lobotomy, electroshock and punishment by psychiatric methods that mutilated and excluded those who disturbed the order.

 

His work was made public, as a whole, only after his death – and revealed an immense artistic legacy of originality, profound thematic creativity and diversity of shapes and materials, bringing to light a previously unknown life whose understanding was based on art, not insanity.

 

Consciously appropriating of his exile as a way of facilitating self-expression, Bispo do Rosario created art out of any material resource he laid his hands on, irrefutably demonstrating man’s innate ability to create – in spite of difficulties of any nature: technical, material, theoretical knowledge or personal history. His hands made bottles, combs, coins, shoes, mugs, spoons, brooms, pieces of fabric (taken from sheets), sewing threads (for embroidery, taken from the inmates’ uniforms) leave their original purpose to become vehicles of his obsessive quest for ordainment, structure and rhythm of time and thought.

 

In the words of Louise Bourgeois, “Bispo do Rosario had the ability to take an object of his life of confinement and turn it into a symbolic object of his self-expression, mystery, beauty and freedom”. Coming across any of these objects is an experience invariably fraught with great emotion for its astonishing plastic beauty and the possibility of recognizing shapes, words and meanings that silently talk with the human soul, awakening universal feelings and existential questions.

 

Questions, yes. Because by looking inward, listening to his own soul and allowing himself to give vent to his creative essence even in the face of immense adversity, Bispo do Rosário yielded beauty and put himself in a time in history psychiatry will never reach. We then wonder where our eyes are turned to, what our ears are listening to and why, even when there is no adversity, we find ourselves reluctant to let forth the creative essence that each one of us carries, in a unique and singular way, inside of us.

 


P.S. 
In 1982, the Bispo do Rosario Museum of Contemporary Art was inaugurated in Rio de Janeiro – http://www.rioecultura.com.br/instituicao/instituicao.asp?local_cod=119

 

In 2007, CosacNaify published the beautiful book named “Arthur Bispo do Rosario – Seculo XX”, put together by Wilson Lazaro, with texts by Emanuel Araujo, Louise Bourgeois, Paulo Herkenhoff and Ricardo Aquino, currently out of print.

Contemporary aphorisms

Mira Schendel :: sem título :: 1964

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being is not having.

A purse is no trophy.

Shoes are not a pedestal.

A movie theater is not an amusement park, and the restaurant table is not a tribune.

Aesthetic intervention is not a matter of public interest.

A company badge is not a medal for merit.

The concepts of ‘exhibition’ and ‘elegance’ are mutually exclusive when applied to people.

You can convert identity into image. The opposite, however, is not possible.

Every personal consultant you hire represents a confessed incompetence.

Neckline and skirt (or dress) length increases in direct proportion. Alcohol level and adequacy, however, in reverse proportion.

Swear words mean lack of vocabulary.

You have to be beautiful to be a model, but you don’t have to be a model to be beautiful.

The use of kindness and courtesy is not proportionality related to the socioeconomic status of the listener.

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Our immoral soul

Clarice Niskier :: The immoral soul

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s a look that knows how to tell right from wrong and wrong from right. There is a look that sees when obedience means disrespect and when disobedience means respect. There is a look that recognizes the short long paths and the long short paths. There’s a look that sees through, that does not hesitate to point out that there are wicked fidelities and betrayals of great loyalty. This is the soul’s look.”

 

‘Our immoral soul’ is one of the most beautiful and striking theater plays I have seen in recent years – a theatrical adaptation elaborated and interpreted (elegantly and sensitively) by Clarice Niskier, from the homonymous book by Rabbi Nilton Bonder. Based on the concept that the human soul is transgressive in its very essence, the text confuses, deconstructs and reconstructs ancient views on the concepts of body and soul, right and wrong, obedience and disobedience, betrayer and betrayed.

 

Bonder establishes the awareness of human beings on their own existence as the origin of the moral body, which then becomes the guardian of customs, conformity and adaptation – the keeper of past traditions, who works through them for the reproduction of the species. The soul – which carries the rebellion and the capacity of mutation – is one that allows thoughts and behaviors that break the established moral, thereby contributing to the evolution of this species. He says it is the tension generated by these two conflicting and interdependent natures, and the dialogue between these forces – the conservative and the transgressive – that allow human beings to transcend themselves.

 

“There is no tradition without betrayal. And there is no betrayal without tradition.” Just look at the history of mankind only to find, in various forms of human expression, the beauty and truth of this statement: from Michelangelo to Picasso, from Beethoven to Stockhausen, from Isadora Duncan to Pina Bausch, from Brunelleschi to Frank Gehry, from Shakespeare to Guimaraes Rosa … human evolution depends mainly on acts that, through the eyes of customs and tradition, are deemed as betrayals. But betrayal would be not to give voice to our transgressive souls, for they are the ones who provide us with pleasure and evolution in our existence.

 

About the play ::  www.almaimoral.com
‘Our Immoral soul’, Rabbi Nilton Bonder, 2001, Shambhala.

Why Chanel

Photo :: Gabrielle Chanel

 

Almost 100 years after her first creations, Chanel is still revered in the fashion world – and outside as well. In an era when products, thoughts and relationships are increasingly ephemeral, one should wonder why such a long stay.

 

Freeing the woman from rigid attires at the end of the nineteenth century (which favored ostentation at the expense of comfort), Chanel reproduced, on an industrial scale, her own image – a distinctive image in absolute harmony with her personality and the historical moment in which she lived. And here lies the secret of her stay in the collective imagination for so long: we are not fascinated by her clothes, necklaces or perfumes – we are fascinated by her identity both strong and unique, which is revealed to us through the objects she used and (re)produced.

 

Some say that the intensity of Chanel’s presence annulled those of her rivals. It doesn’t seem to me, however, that this fascination came from the objects she chose to wear… On the contrary, such objects were personal and conscious choices, result of the intensity of her thinking – and of the understanding that, also by dressing, she expressed her own identity.

 

Ironically, the industrial production of a unique personal style has become a paradox – to the point when Chanel herself stated: “I am no longer what I once was: I must be what I have become.” The desire for a socially recognized and valued image combined with the lack of knowledge and reflection on oneself make thousands of people seek in bags, shoes and clothes the ability to grant them personality and identity, in a total reversal of roles.

 

As I once wrote in the text ‘About dressing’ (Jan, 2011), beauty lies in being and perceiving ourselves as unique. Beautiful, therefore, is not to own Chanel – beautiful is to be Chanel.