Art, Philosophy and Life- Part 1 Art
The three things that are extremely difficult to define yet so obvious. I believe not many really know the meaning of any of these. I, myself, am not sure either... But if one observes with some pondering and a little contemplation, one will know that these are everywhere around us, and we come across them almost at every moment. While a profound thinker might give some complex definitions of them, a true analysis will show how simple these may seem to be. Let me scribble here what I feel about each of these and try to collate the basic essence of these three things and investigate the connections amongst them.
Art:
Many people have defined art in many different ways. The term "artist" has itself been defined in many funny ways. According to the ancient wisdom of my country, there are 64 kinds of arts. In general circulation of the civilization, the perception of art is that of a medium of expression, imagination and creation. In an earlier essay of mine, I wrote about what Socrates says about art and how he speaks about it being a "whole" in itself. I am tempted to concur with him (seldom did I contradict him though). The entire process of producing something out of a deep inspiring tale, a consequence of an enchanting experience or merely a simple thought, is in itself a completeness, a destination. The product being a piece of art and the process being the art. Perhaps to the humankind, the greatest gift God had given was the capability to observe, think, comprehend and act. The greater the effort to perform these, the more affective it is. And when things come to a finer level, takes birth the art. Any fineness that could be depicted in any form is art. Every man who does a conscious attempt to make the world around him appear finer, better and more than what it seems at first glance is an artist. It could be a carpenter who shapes the wood to fine furniture. It could be a sweeper, who cleans the floor. But, before I dilute the concept of art into diurnal activities and tend to reflect the thought that art is a cliche, let me check my premises by being a little more clearer of my undestanding by introducing the "degree of fineness". The degree of fineness draws about a line between the obvious things people do and what an artist does. Without appreciating this degree of fineness it is not possible to know the difference between a Sonnet and a rubbish piece of write up. Apart from this degree of fineness, the perfection of art and the artist also depends on the solemn passion that in itself manifests in the form of the product of the art. For instance, a passion to describe an object in words, dictates the beauty and the profound elegance of a poem.
I myself have written for over 80 poems, of them, some lines are so inspired and possessed by the objects, and this I gladly attribute to the passion behind them when I wrote them. There are some really stupid and banal lines, obviously lacking the vivid ardour, and were written uninspired and unpossessed.
Once in an artist's life, there comes a moment, when he is extremely inspired, when his soul in unison with the Nature and the creator, when the whole universe for him is a minute particle smaller than a quark, then with all the divinity enchanting him, he profusely produces the best of his life, that which is called the MAGNUM OPUS. And for every artist, in his line of art, there will be one and only one Magnum Opus, only one greatest product. We have seen many who have tried to simulate and re-attain the feat after their best works, and seemed to have failed, with a bitter sense in the minds of even the greatest admirers of their works.
To me, by my own observation of self and a little study of people I have appreciated since long, there is something beyond the usual capabilities of an artist, the human, which he employs in his diurnal activities, which causes the metamorphosis, of the transformation of artist-the human to artist-the Divine, when all energies in the world converge in the tips of his fist and make him manufacture the invaluable treasure of his own world.
And I trust every art is associated with a certain philosophy or a multitude of philosophies that the artist is naturally inclined to. I shall continue the essay in the next part, the Philosophy.
Art:
Many people have defined art in many different ways. The term "artist" has itself been defined in many funny ways. According to the ancient wisdom of my country, there are 64 kinds of arts. In general circulation of the civilization, the perception of art is that of a medium of expression, imagination and creation. In an earlier essay of mine, I wrote about what Socrates says about art and how he speaks about it being a "whole" in itself. I am tempted to concur with him (seldom did I contradict him though). The entire process of producing something out of a deep inspiring tale, a consequence of an enchanting experience or merely a simple thought, is in itself a completeness, a destination. The product being a piece of art and the process being the art. Perhaps to the humankind, the greatest gift God had given was the capability to observe, think, comprehend and act. The greater the effort to perform these, the more affective it is. And when things come to a finer level, takes birth the art. Any fineness that could be depicted in any form is art. Every man who does a conscious attempt to make the world around him appear finer, better and more than what it seems at first glance is an artist. It could be a carpenter who shapes the wood to fine furniture. It could be a sweeper, who cleans the floor. But, before I dilute the concept of art into diurnal activities and tend to reflect the thought that art is a cliche, let me check my premises by being a little more clearer of my undestanding by introducing the "degree of fineness". The degree of fineness draws about a line between the obvious things people do and what an artist does. Without appreciating this degree of fineness it is not possible to know the difference between a Sonnet and a rubbish piece of write up. Apart from this degree of fineness, the perfection of art and the artist also depends on the solemn passion that in itself manifests in the form of the product of the art. For instance, a passion to describe an object in words, dictates the beauty and the profound elegance of a poem.
I myself have written for over 80 poems, of them, some lines are so inspired and possessed by the objects, and this I gladly attribute to the passion behind them when I wrote them. There are some really stupid and banal lines, obviously lacking the vivid ardour, and were written uninspired and unpossessed.
Once in an artist's life, there comes a moment, when he is extremely inspired, when his soul in unison with the Nature and the creator, when the whole universe for him is a minute particle smaller than a quark, then with all the divinity enchanting him, he profusely produces the best of his life, that which is called the MAGNUM OPUS. And for every artist, in his line of art, there will be one and only one Magnum Opus, only one greatest product. We have seen many who have tried to simulate and re-attain the feat after their best works, and seemed to have failed, with a bitter sense in the minds of even the greatest admirers of their works.
To me, by my own observation of self and a little study of people I have appreciated since long, there is something beyond the usual capabilities of an artist, the human, which he employs in his diurnal activities, which causes the metamorphosis, of the transformation of artist-the human to artist-the Divine, when all energies in the world converge in the tips of his fist and make him manufacture the invaluable treasure of his own world.
And I trust every art is associated with a certain philosophy or a multitude of philosophies that the artist is naturally inclined to. I shall continue the essay in the next part, the Philosophy.
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