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.”

Dust in the wind

Dorothea Lange :: ‘Dust Storm Near Mills’ :: 1935

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The main value of material wealth lies in the fact that it meets the basic needs of our existence. The greater the wealth, the greater the access, the level of comfort and the quality we can ensure to our health, food, housing and education (the latter in its three dimensions: personal, social and cultural). Therefore it is natural to imagine that material and socio-cultural enrichment should go hand in hand.

 

In a not too distant past, as it broadened its purchasing power, the rising bourgeoisie sought to reproduce the aristocratic way of life, in which it perceived a distinctive quality. The aspiration was not limited to material goods: much more than to objects, it aspired to a certain way of being and behaving, perceived as more beautiful, elegant and pleasurable. To attend operas and soirées, to sponsor art production or to have the best tutors for their children were, for the bourgeoisie, desires as strong as to wear French fabrics or to show off German crystals. Rather than allowing for the acquisition of objects, material enrichment was sought for its access to a much valued universe of knowledge, culture and information.

 

In a significant portion of rising classes in contemporary society, however, we curiously observe a rather distinct behavior. Today we see people increasing their financial possibilities and, consequently, the sizes of their cars and homes, enhancing health and body care, sophisticating food and drink at the table, multiplying the clothes in the closet … but there seems to be no concern, for a great part of these people, with the elevation of their level of education and culture. Material enrichment appears to have a goal in itself – to obtain things which are materially richer. As a result, we see an increasingly brutish, mean and arrogant society, in which people who know by heart the names of the most sophisticated brands of clothes and cars cannot cite even one significant name in the arts or literature. They communicate through poor vocabulary (if not vulgar), and are incapable of a nice gesture.

 

Education and culture are a means to reflect on our existence, to build, discuss and convey values, and to raise awareness about ourselves, each other, and the world. They allow us to refine our senses and sharpen our perception, enabling us to see and appreciate the beauty – of an artwork, a thought or an attitude; they also allow feelings like kindness, gentleness and solidarity to bloom in relationships, making them loving and constructive; they also place us in a historical perspective, enabling the development of a critical look and the strengthening of universal values like truth, freedom and equality.

 

By itself, material wealth is like dust in the wind – it has no value whatsoever. Only through education and culture we can become better people – capable, then, of building a better, more enjoyable and pleasurable society to live in.

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 key

Kitagawa Utamaro :: Lovers in an upstairs room :: 1788

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 27th
Just as I imagined. My wife keeps a diary. To this day I took the precaution of not writing it in this notebook, but actually my attention was vaguely grabbed a few days ago.
… I am not so vile as to read the diary of my own wife without her permission. However, driven by bad feelings, I tried to cunningly remove the tape that sealed it so as to leave no marks. I wanted to show my wife that a tape alone would be useless.

 

 

March 7th
Then I found the key lying in the same place. I thought there must be some reason, and then I opened the drawer and pulled out my husband’s diary. To my surprise, it was sealed with a tape in the same way as I had done. Would my husband want to tell me “Try opening it”?
… I was tempted to try to pull the tape without leaving marks. And so I did it, simply out of curiosity”

 

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Listening to one’s own voice

Bobby McFerrin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Is this what you want to do? Is this how you picture exploring music?” These were the questions Bobby McFerrin says he asked himself when still very young and thrilled by listening to Keith Jarrett’s piano performance. The vulnerability of a person alone on a stage had always fascinated him, and made him wonder if he could, as Jarrett, capture the essence of a song, its harmonies, and capture his own essence – and only then, sing the same way Jarret played the piano: with his heart and in his own unique and personal way.

 

He spent almost three years alone, singing, writing, listening and getting acquainted with his own voice. During the first two years Bobby did not listen to other singers – he was afraid of being influenced by some other singing style, convinced that this would make him turn away from his own style. He needed to discover himself, learn and take ownership for the sound he created, get to know and explore the possibilities of his own voice.

 

His ability to improvise was also a challenge to overcome. He wanted to discover the pleasure of moving without knowing exactly where to go… of letting himself go as a child does, without being guided by theoretical knowledge. He then spent many other years working out his own way to improvise – in his words, overcoming the fear of improvisation, the fear of taking risks, of looking like a fool and not having enough ideas.

 

Today, over 30 years later, Bobby McFerrin is known worldwide as one of the greatest talents of contemporary music. In addition to the musical genius in every note his voice sings and every gesture he makes, rare plainness and elegance become evident from the perfect harmony of what he does, what he looks like and who he really is.

 

Bobby McFerrin’s truth can also serve as an allegory for each of us. After all, there is nothing more beautiful, elegant and enjoyable than being and acknowledging oneself as unique, listening to one’s own voice, expressing one’s essence, not fearing the unknown and experiencing the joy of keep moving. And that’s what really matters.

 

To learn more: http://bobbymcferrin.com/
To listen to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktotbE4rN2g (interview)

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.

At the table

Henri Matisse :: ‘La Desserte’ (Dinner Table) :: 1896-97

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Human beings might not even remember that dressing once had only a functional meaning in their lives – to protect the body from wheather conditions. After this first moment and over the centuries, dressing incorporated other meanings – social, religious, or even ideological and political – to become, as it is today, an act of codes, rituals and cares.

 

The history of eating has followed a similar path – if the purpose of food once was just to ensure survival for human beings, it has gained developments over time and, permeated by economic, social, religious or geographic issues, food has also acquired its codes, rituals and cares.

 

When we look at the evolution of manners and customs, we can also observe another aspect, more subtle but not less relevant: the need for humans to give greater pleasure to mandatory acts which are essential to their existence. As man became conscious of his own existence and gained perception of his tastes and pleasures, he was no longer able to stand endless, mechanical and routine repetition of tasks that did not provide comfort also to his soul. Expanding the meaning of such affairs has become imperative.

 

We can confer beauty and therefore pleasure to any acts and accomplishments of the human being, and to the various ways of relating to them and among ourselves. In the introduction of his book “A beleza salvará o mundo” (Beauty will save the world) – (Ed. Difel, 2011), the philosopher Tzvetan Todorov explains that beauty, be that of a landscape, a date or a work of art, does not refer to anything beyond these things, but makes us appreciate them as such – and therefore, allows us to try the sensation of living full and exclusively the present moment.

 

Being at the table to enjoy a meal is one of the richest and most frequent opportunities we have to experience such a feeling – and it amazes me to see how many men and women waste it daily by relating to food as did our ancestors.

 

At the table, the shape of arranged objects, the taste of a certain food, the encounter with the others, or with yourself, are all possibilities for us to enjoy this fullness – in the words of Todorov, “instant yet infinitely desirable feeling which gives meaning to our existence; thanks to these precious moments, it becomes more beautiful and richer in senses”.

 

Let us, therefore, be attentive and generous with ourselves, remembering every day that every meal is a chance to meet with the beautiful, to give ourselves pleasure and thus to expand the meaning of our existence.

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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