Deleuze and Rancière (and the Question about Art as a Form of Resistance)

Deleuze (respectively the Deleuze/Guattari hermaphrodite) says art is about Becoming. Deleuze (respectively Deleuze/Guattari) is very fond of transformations that stem out from the obscure and unexpected (from „chaos“) and lead to new ways of how perceive things. He likes that so much that in his philosophy true „events“ (not subjects, objects, structures, etc.) embody the highest degree of reality since they´re the ones that inflict change on reality. The true artist permanently „becomes“ and calls for „a new earth, a new people“, that is to say for new modes of understanding and being alongside his specific vision which is, if it is of the highest caliber, self-transcendent. Becoming happens at „zones of indistinguishability“ between qualities (for instance that the maltreated, oppressed human becomes animal, the maltreated, oppressed animal becomes human), via his empathy and associative intelligence and powered by his drive to transform and finally to incorporate being in its totality, the true artist is sensitive for spotting and experiencing zones of indistinguishability. Deleuze/Guattari says (with reference to Lawrence) the artist carves slits and openings into the firmament, respectively into common understanding, to let some chaos in, which then allows syntheses of new and higher order. Deleuze/Guattari also says that the artist, in a way of defying chaos, tries to reach into the infinite and then tries to project it into the finite i.e. the true artwork being a zone of highest order in which the infinite shines trough. Deleuze says, if we try to understand art and artists in such ways, i.e. as people that dive into the unknown solely for the sake of achieving knowledge and transformation of mind, artists who write „minor“ literature, only, actually, a small minority of people doing art could be labelled artists (respectively writers, as he is, in the respective text – Literature and Life – specific about literature).

Ranciére understands aesthetics, as well as politics, as regimes which legitimise certain objects/subjects/entities as theirs. The paria, the proletarian, the slave is originally excluded from the sphere of politics; with finding a voice they become political subjects; they are able to participate at the political process, they are included in the political process. Politics does happen when excluded parias become included and transform from (quasi)objects to authentic subjects of politics. Therefore, politics is about finding strategies for the excluded to become included. Likewise, the regime of aesthetics defines what is to considered as beautiful or as art. These regimes are open and in flux. Rancière is concerned about how art could contribute to political change. He makes reference to Schiller and to the idea that art is kind of democratic since the sensual, the aesthetic, can be experienced by everyone, as well as to the idea that art orginates from a ludic drive (Spieltrieb) in man. The playfulness alongside the ludic drive can be seen as opposed to the seriousness of material conditions, as well as where true freedom and the possibility of self actualisation lies, which becomes projected into the vision of a somehow brotherly society of competent, empathetic individuals. Rancière, who has a keener eye on investigating paradoxes (of art, politics, literature, etc.) than offering a stringent philosophy (like Deleuze) says that, in practical terms, political revolutions via aesthetic revolutions largely have failed, degenerating, in the 20th century, into consumer aesthetics in capitalism or Stalinist pomp under communism. (I, however, am quite content with living in a consumer society. Likewise, under specific circumstances there is nothing wrong with being sympathetic with communism. Bolz reminds us that living in a consumer society prevents us from relapsing into religious or ideological fanaticism and extremism, or communism.) Rancière claims that while Deleuze wants to extend philosophy into spheres that are external to philosophy, he himself is rather interested in using philosophical understanding and method in other playgrounds of the human mind, or in the most practical arenas. He is also skeptical of Deleuze´s notion of philosophical concepts or books as „tools“/“toolkits“, given the emptiness of many texts in which others try to use the Deleuzian tools, and he confirms that Deleuze establishes a kind metaphysical imaginary that is alien to him. He seems to have a need for precision that may rather be found in the writings and approaches of Deleuze´s temporary friend, Foucault. — Rancière´s text „Is Art Resistant?“ provided the ferment of this text, and I am glad that after weeks of intellectually working on it i now finally seem to be able to get the fucking thing done.

So there you have the art genius, trying to look at the world in order to determine its value – the artist, spiritualised with empathy and sense for connection and therefore trying to spiritualise the objects of art, trying to establish connection and communion in the world — with his vast intellect he sees abstractions and general modes of being in the individual and the idiosyncratic as well as he sees the individualities and idiosyncracies which evade the abstractions. He sees occasional gestures and movements full of grace, in a specific way a person laughs for instance, which give him awareness of the presumably graceful nature of the world and of people — a giant, a cosmic spectacle before his eyes, in his mind ———– which unfortunately effectively gets contrasted via a more sober look on the world: In which most people, effectively, are not specifically intelligent nor equipped with pleasant personalities. Their epistemology is simple and they can´t think, which is why offering genuine innovative philosophy and art is about the same as trying to offer a paper on advanced topology or differential geometry to people – it is equally incomprehensible to them although it is (apparently) written in the same language they use, not in the language of mathematics. Likewise, beauty is, indeed, recognisable for everyone, just most people don´t care a lot about it, let alone that they were able to understand beauty on a more abstract level and intellectualise it in order to solidify their understanding and enliven it (with those intelligent enough to intellectualise stuff often not being receptive to beauty or genuine creativity in turn), same goes for originality. Despite people are quite self-centered they usually don´t even know how to dress themselves properly. Look at how people are running through the city or sitting in restaurants and obviously take a look at nothing – whereas my own sight usually roams and roves and tries to look at my surroundings their glimpses don´t! They are, to a considerable degree, not interested in the world they inhabitate, let alone in that which is beautiful, intelligent, vibrant, etc. but in stuff and people in which they can mirror themselves, which is why slightly above average people often are so popular (since average people can project themselves into them) whilst it is often a hindrance to success being very much above average. People like to complain a lot and they´re negativistic, they demand that „more intelligence“ should happen or „true art“ should happen, but when it does happen they regularly don´t pay attention. When they see that intelligence comes around the corner but does not confirm their pre-existing world views, they may hate it. The problem of intelligent artists is that they want to make people more intelligent, but, in the first place, they make them look stupid as they confront people with something they cannot properly understand; and people don´t like that. That is when their „sapiosexuality“ usually ends. Paradoxically, the great genius who establishes the most potent worldview by thinking outside all contemporarian boxes is what is least desired or acknowledged. There may be nothing (of substance) the world is less interested in, and less friendly to, than a truly original thinker as long as he isn´t recognised and verified by the machine. (Meditate about that.) So much for the polemic.

Houellebecq says, while the artist tries to make the world an object of art, the world actually does not at all qualify as an object of art: the world is bluntly rational, without any magic and without particular interest. With that being one of Michel´s usual pessimisms it can actually be, occasionally, quite a nuisance, when the artist and the genius tries to get his firm and powerful, secure grasp on the world and what he grasps into is a kind of foam of stunted or irrelevant understandings, a kind of Emmentaler cheese with a lot of holes and air between the solid structure. This kind of foam is, actually, the world. To many artists it therefore becomes apparent that we are living in a kind of ghost world and then they write sad novels. I find this exaggerated. Foam can be quite beautiful, it changes or vanishes after a while, the foam of the world is stratified and consists of different, and distinguished elements. Art is about giving a lucid impression of the world. Great art is about seeing the universal in that which is transitory, and, therefore, bringing both to life in making it comprehensible for us. Art helps us in understanding a heterogenous and manifold world in which most things forever happen beyond our horizon, not only as it broadens our horizon but as it charges the world, and entitities within the world, with meaning. It illuminates the world as it illustrates the situation of man. Even it is a sad or drab world presented, the intellect rejoices because it makes him see and understand how the pieces fit – „Was im Leben uns verdrießt, man im Bilde gern genießt“ says Goethe. Personal consolation or the possibility to make sense of one´s own situation may also be found in works of art. It gives dignity to the fallen (and may actually be the truest form to deal with horror). And indeed, a work of art may give identity to a people, if not a system of meaning. Identity is good, being equipped with a system of meaning is good, since it increases competence (and gives people a „voice“).

Heterogenousness, due to individuality, is a some kind of oppositional force against reconciliation, and the „new earth“, the „new people“ will be heterogenous all alike. The prospects of a „we all shall come together“, of a reconciled world, are dim since we aren´t all alike. If we were all alike, humanity would cease to exist (and intelligence would cease to be competent since there would be no individuals of above average intelligence to tell the collective what to do). (For instance in the „hellish“ virst volume of Dead Souls) Gogol shows how „individuality“ commonly simply is a nuisance, resulting from lack of heart, mind and soul (not from excess), a mode in which stupidity is displayed. Because of stupidity, reconcilement decreases to become an option. In another dimension, of course, individuality is that which is productively resistant against totalitarian visions of reconcilement, and strong individuality is necessary to evade the influence of other powerful artists. Finally, the extreme individualism of the genius provides the locus of truth since due to his extreme individualism the genius is able to discover authentic human values. The paradox, or the tragedy, is that the genius will forever be alone in his visions and profoundly isolated from society, even if he gets appreciated by society. Whitehead remarks the malady of this world is that average elements can easily be reconciled while the progressively individualistic elements cannot or may even be sorted out or destroyed in the process that makes reality, despite embodying a higher extend of truth. (I, however, advocate the notion that the more individualistic, the more „real“ elements operate at different and distinguished levels of reality and it is probably a good thing that interference between these levels is limited; it need not add up or may be well dangerous to both.) Deleuze says art is about trying to reconcile the „originals“ (genuinely original people) with society (Bartleby or the Formula).

Rancière meditates a good deal about how the specific qualities inherent in art and qualities that make the political may meet, although, with reference to Kant, he emphasises on the sensual and aesthetic qualities and is quite silent about the intellectual qualities of art. – I say maybe the most important quality of the artist is universal empathy. It is his way to relate to the world. Without that his experience of the world can´t be enlivened. Empathy is both an emotional and an intellectual quality and it is noted that exceptionally gifted persons display a high amount of empathy also in their intellectual undertakings (they become unusually immersed in them and de/transpersonalise, etc.). Likewise, art is primarily an expression of associative intelligence which does not primarily aim at exposing the logical structure but the multilayeredness and manifoldness of the world. Divergent thinking is more important than convergent thinking for the artist. As divergent thinking primarily aims at reflecting upon a concept the way of how it could be viewed upon differently, the artist naturally runs (to some degree) against the grain. His intelligence is subversive and his divergent thinking makes him comprehend (and master) chaos. His intelligence expresses itself in an experimental way and opens itself into an evolving future. Associative thinking gives a sense of universal „connectedness“ and a longing for cohesion. Because of that the artist has a strong sense for establishing (authentic) communion between people and between things (which may deem the rest of humanity whimsical or fantastical). While, with reference to Kant, the qualities of the aesthetic (beauty and the sublime) and the qualities of reason and of ethics are distinct, beauty gives us an idea of transcendent order and the sublime fills us with awe for a higher (ethical) instance (deus (absconditus)) to which we have to bow down. Beauty refers to constructiveness and love, the sublime to humility, self-reflection, etc. as a necessary ingredient of how to do things right. Art, therefore, is both contained in itself and self-transcendent. It is both concrete and universal. Art gives a sense for the ambiguity of things and (their embeddedness in) contexts. It opens a dialogue between the empirical and the transcendental. Because of that it is, somehow ironically, the artist, not the scientist, who sheds light on the „thing in itself“. In seeing the universal in the transitory, the multilayeredness and ambiguity of things and contexts, cosmos and chaos, the artist grasps a „meta-noumenal“ essence of a thing, which is „nothing less than the existential ontology of the object, another way of expressing its circumstantial semantic content, now and later on, a mind´s view of ,objective reality`“, as Angell de la Sierra of Omega Society wonderfully makes it explicit of what is apparent to the artistic gnostic in one or the other way and what the art gnostic expresses in one or the other terminology.

The world may be a terrible disappointment for the artist, and it will be so with growing, painful intensity for the omega artist. Yet of course art requires non-art. Beauty erects upon ugliness, the sublime upon our limitedness, the spheres upon suffering. The isolation of the true artist and thinker may be profound and eternal, but without individual elevatedness upon the collective no intelligence and no transformation and progress can ever be possible. Nietzsche, who embodied extreme intelligence and originality, with the consequence of being also the embodiment of an outcast, sadly philosophised that the world can only be justified as an aesthetic phenomenon. As an aesthetic phenomenon the world, however, necessarily must contain stuntedness; Whitehead somehow proposes that God´s will is not to make the world perfect in the ethical sense but aesthetically and therefore allows stuntedness and decay to enforce creativity and to bring in the new. Consider the world as an artwork by God. This is difficult for the human mind to grasp, but, as stated above, intertwined with that, art may offer consolation. Stuntedness may appear beautiful and fascinating. Since before the inner eye of the artist there is constantly something emerging, evolving, if not protuberating, there is no actual stuntedness. With respect to what is important for Deleuze, the artist´s gaze both sees the actual but also the virtual. The „new earth“, the „new people“ is, therein, a virtual quality. It is also, somehow, „out there“ in this world. For practical and metaphysical reasons we should embrace pluralism and the understanding that the world, when trying to grasp it in totality, becomes elusive, opening itself to an understanding that it consists of many worlds (as Markus Gabriel and New Realism annotate).

Deleuze says philosophy is not a power. „Religion, the state, capitalism, science, the law, public opinion and television are powers, but not philosophy.“ Same would apply for art. Since philosophy (art) is not a power it can also not enter into open battle with any power, rather it establishes a guerilla. It is true that the logics of art and of politics are distinguished. Science is the art of grasping the rational aspects of existence, whereas art is the science of investigating the irrational aspects of existence (i.e. the subjective embeddedness of man in nature). They´re different territories. Yet knowledge and understanding vice versa also allows the own and private territory to be understood and explored in greater depth. Who is more powerful is a question of perspective. Finally, it´s only the great works of art which last forver, as the artist may be oppressed, maybe destroyed by any power, but it is him who sees all the kingdoms rise and fall before his inner eye. The powers are transitory, art is the universal. In his downfall, the artist embarrasses and humiliates the powerful transitory victor – who is, then, the vanquisher? Deleuze/Guattari say a true work of art is erected and can stand for itself. Rancière reminds us of the blunt autonomy, the „unavailability“, the statutory character of the statue/artwork, as the autonomy of art and the virtual indifference the l´art pour l´art towards politics carries a moment of resistance, and finally concludes that art is resistant as it does not only enter a dialogue with the political and the transitory but also eternally refuses to do so. Art is its own affirmation, and an affirmation of life. It seeks the liberation of life. It is expression of a liberated, and higher consciousness. It may contain more of the world than the world itself does. And with that I ascend into the regions of the ice mountains and lose myself to never return. Hahahahaha!

Johann Georg Pinsel and Gilles Deleuze

A chief characteristic of the sculptures of Baroque artist Johann Georg Pinsel are the exaggerated folds, which will remind the hipster intellectual of Gilles Deleuze´s book about Leibniz and the Baroque; indeed, one of the coolest parts of The Fold. Leibniz and the Baroque is when Deleuze uses his immersive, empathetic language to write about Baroque clothing and why the folds Baroque clothes crinkle are metaphysically connoted (in the opening of the final chapter, A New Harmony).

Deleuze´s main philosophical endeavour may be how to think the many facettes of the univocal one; put in other words he is the thinker of metaphysical confusion. Hence the dynamics between the virtual and the actual (as opposed to Platonism) and the notion of difference and non-identity at the core of every thing, respectively being itself as difference in itself and non-identical to itself, enabling productive dynamics of an open flux, which becomes tangible via the competent, productive agent (alongside Deleuze´s empiricism/Heideggerianism which assumes the subject and his modes of cognition and his modes of being affected as interrelated and elastic (and corruptible) to the dynamics of the outside world, respectively to the outside „forces“). Deleuze thinks that being is essentially composed of relations (i.e. network-like) and via his intellectually mobile concepts Deleuze „puts metaphysics in motion“. He makes us think being in itself is something that is colourful, catchy and cool.

The Fold is a concept Deleuze already used to greater extent in his preceding book about Foucault, refering to ——– but I seem to find out that, despite having planned to write this note since last week and having read and prepared myself a lot to do that, I am not particularly in the mood for doing so now – but I want it to go out now since this weekend the Pinsel exhibition at the Winterpalais, to which this note refers to and is dedicated to, is running out and I want to remind people of it and I want them to visit it. Apart from that I should write an article about Scelsi, Leifs and Ustvolskaya for the Versorgerin this weekend. Also this Pinsel-Deleuze note was considered to be followed by notes about Deleuze and Ranciere and Leibniz and Whitehead (which also annoys me a bit since my main objective is to write about artists now).

Deleuze is likeable because he is the quintessential thinker of the productive mind, unfolding and appealing to us via his erotic, ecstatically faltering language and he is a considerable metaphysicist since he also is aware that the universe is, to some not unsubstantial degree, quite full of shit and of not happy, flamboyant productiveness; that, qua difference and repetition, being is inherently unstable and nothing that actually or necessarily comforts, protects and conceals; that like enlightenment, catastrophe may be the actualisation of the virtual (despite not putting a lot of emphasis on it due to his sovereign, optimistic personality). I made the plan to go through the entire Deleuze again and to write about Deleuze and metaphysics, as I plan to do it with the entire Nietzsche and some other stuff somewhere rather sooner than later, in a general Heideggerian attempt to establish Lichtung. I don´t know whether I will have any message for humanity to deliver or something commonly labelled as wisdom. Rimbaud says, his wisdom is despised like they despise chaos. Maybe one day this century will be called Yorickesque.

Johann Georg Pinsel and Franz Anton Maulbertsch

Dedicated to my friend and illustrator Raja Schwahn-Reichmann, who provided worthwhile insights 

At the Winterpalais of the Belvedere there currently is an exhibition revolving around Baroque sculptor Johann Georg Pinsel. Whilst his biography largely remains obscure – he likely was of German or Bohemian descent, he worked in Red Ruthenia/Lvov which had a vivid cultural life and art scene at that time, and he died 1761 or 1762 presumably at the age of around 40 – and many of his works were destroyed during the anticlerical Soviet era, the radiation of his genius will remain alive and well. Genius is transgressive, explosive, protuberant, aiming at the transformation of forms, alongside invisible dimensional axes, to reveal inner truth. Whilst in perfect stasis and undifferentiated in the spheres he inhabitates his apparition seems flamboyant and extravagant in the man´s world. And so Pinsel´s sculptures carry a (usually paradoxical) expressiveness concerning pantomime and, moreover, dress, with their dresses flushing, folding and unfolding into the infinite, hyper-protuberating, highly exaggerated. One of the most striking impressions/revelations you get from the exhibition is Abraham´s oceanic beard. Needless to say, in the richness of Pinsel´s vision, artistic integrity and artistic force there is the anticipation of expressionism and even abstraction (notably when he depicts folds in dress as geometric shapes with a little unevenness carved in). Metaphysical convulsions. Ringing from the heavens.

In the exhibition there are also some paintings by Franz Anton Maulbertsch (1724-1796). Fuseli hailed Maulbertsch as a „fiery genius“, but critisised lack of historical sense and execution. Such a reflection may come from the perspective of Classicism, Maulbertsch however was the final climax of Baroque painting and therefore, somehow, consequently, a loner who could not be style-forming in a direct way (but he has been so in an indirect way, Kokoschka relied on him). Technically and artistically his work revolves around the question and the interplay of colour, light, darkness and the shadowy realms. You have a lot of phantasy in his paintings and semi-paradoxical juxtaposition: Maulbertsch was able to see the phantastic in the natural and vice versa, ahhh, the versatile intellect and sensuality <3 Metaphysically, you seem to have captured the depth of reality (and religious higher reality) via pronounced contour and colour in the foreground and suggested dissolution linked to the background. Maulbertsch´s signature was a thistle – a plant that is thorny and a misfit, but lasting and undestroyable.

Though Maulbertsch was, in general, respected and acclaimed during his lifetime he was denied becoming a professor at the academy. Reasoning was that his transgressive, rule-breaking genius would do more harm than good to the students, and that is likely correct. Geniuses usually are fascinating and enriching, but not actually good teachers. How should they be good teachers when students are interested in answers to questions, but the genius is interested in questioning the answers once he provided them, therefore seemingly permanently collapsing over himself, in stasis? How should tradable forms or textbooks materialise, based on stability and rationality, when the genius lives in a state of meta-stability and is meta-rational? The genius will usually seek a kind of socratic dialogue and will, due to lack of congeniality, solipse into a difficult to decypher socratic monologue. Communication is impaired. This is often difficult to bear for the genius, and for others.

I don´t want to sweep it under the table that Maulbertsch´s paintings did not immediately strike me that much at first glance at the exhibition, also since I was more focused on Pinsel. I had never heard of Maulbertsch before and I found his paintings, though idiosyncratic, a bit irritating. Though that´s what they actually are and I did not have a lot of knowledge about Baroque painting before it tought me a lesson in humility I shall never forget. I did not recognise a fellow genius on the spot and his magic had to be explained to me! (However I bought a book about him and borrowed a big, comphrehensive, a sort of ultimate book about him at the library afterwards.) Remember that Otto Weininger, who probably was the greatest genius of all time and had the most penetrating (though occasionally misguided) intellect and intellectual empathy of all said, that the philospher needs to refrain to think that the symbols of the artist may easily to be deciphered. In trying to do so, the philosopher needs to be careful and prudent. I also don´t want to sweep it under the table that Maulbertsch remains a bit of a mystery to me, genius means objective subjectivity, in the case of Maulbertsch the subjective element seems to dominate excessively above the objective element (but that´s what easily may be the fate of the late comer in an era). Despite that it may be that I will happen to take a look and study the paintings of Maulbertsch more often than those of, for instance, Titian. I also find Maulbertsch´s depictions of Mary´s ascension to heaven cooler than that of Titian, and his Mary more gracious and lovely (unfortunately I could not find a lot of them on the internet).

UPDATE 03012017: I made some pics of Maulbertsch letting Mary ascend to Heaven out of a book, Hallelujah.

 

Is that Biedermeier? at the Belvedere Palace, Vienna

(Dedicated to my friend and illustrator Raja Schwahn-Reichmann, who provided useful insights)

One of the most intriguing, phenomenal eras in human history, where the beasts were unleashed, was the Biedermeier era.

Historically, the Biedermeier epoch refers to the era in Central Europe between the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the European revolutions in 1848. Repression by the authority, embodied in the Austrian chancellor Metternich, was a chief characteristic, as well as tiredness from revolutionary upheavals in a period of increasing peace and prosperity, at least for the bourgeoisie. Biedermeier refers to an introversion into the private realm and trying to find prosperity, security and happiness in the private domain and due to simple virtues.

This translated into modes of human expression, and apart from the historical, political and sociological reference Biedermeier denotes artistic styles, although its historical demarcation is less clear. The heyday of Biedermeier art was the period between 1830 and 1860. At the moment we have an exhibition titled „Is that Biedermeier? Amerling, Waldmüller, And More“ at the Belvedere Palace in Vienna (from 21 October 2016 – 12 February 2017), indicating that, to a considerable degree, at the substance of that commonly insulted, derided period there is great, unexpected magic and glory.

In general, what distinguishes Biedermeier from Classicism is its focus of attention on (romanticised) everyday scenes and people. Accuracy of painting was prevalent, it was a field of experimentation of realism, painting in the natural light, the anchoring of natural man, and his virtues, in nature and natural surroundings. Ideally, you have a love for things, for natural things, for small and humble things and a respect for an eternal metaphysical order of the world, a synthesis of content and idea, i.e. not a trivial naturalism but a metaphysical, sensually as well as intellectually tangible naturalism (expressed, for instance, by Adalbert Stifter). Whilst it is true that there are aspects about the period that are clearly annoying – as can be found for any period – the specific shedding of light on those aspects about existence are soothing, beneficial and therapeutic, and they should not be forgotten, they should be integrated in hearts and minds.

As you enter the exhibition you are likely to get spellbound, for instance, by Friedrich von Amerling´s gracious Lute Player (1838). Amerling was a master of portrait, in bringing to life the charme and the beauty of humans. In contrast to Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller, the other most prevalent painter of that period in the Hapsburg monarchy, who was more interested in capturing humans in a specific characteristic moment, Amerling´s primary endeavour was to display the entire charme of the individual or of physiognomy, with his portraits finally being the sum of his studies and his creative empathy for his models. Striking in his portrait of the lute playing girl are the colours and the display of the reflection of light (and while it is true that Amerling´s lute player is less idiosyncratic than Vermeer´s lute or guitar players her beauty is more balanced). Amerling´s Girl with Doves (1840) is equally gracious as the girl seems to be immersed in her own positive vibes, translating in universal empathy for the living creature.

Get intrigued and into the undertow when investigating Rudolf von Alt´s portrait of Saint Stephen´s Cathedral (1832) due to its luminosity and the extreme finesse concerning detail so that you get eager to look at it through a magnifying glass; or of the extreme plasticity of the scene in the Harbour of Naples with Mount Vesuvius (1836) (especially the water and the white tail on the left), reminding us of (the luminosity) of materiality of the world itself (and, if you are lucky, of the secret, the silent magic of materiality).

In Josef Danhauser´s Opening of the Will (1839) there is a splendidly indignant legacy hunting widow (as well as, presumably, her no less innerly deleted lover who sees his hopes dashed behind her), the most beautiful teenage boy accompanying the lucky, innocent heir under the auspices of the deceased devisor (obviously an otherworldy, good-natured scientist or man devoted to a greater cause) – and look, as a signature of mastery and of a receptive mind, how the light is reflected at the floor clock (and also at the keys on the table)!

Empathy provoking, like many of Peter Fendi´s paintings, is his Scene from the Deluge of 1830 (1830), which refers to a dramatic flooting which took place in February 1830 in Vienna. In his dramatic scenery there are people trying to help others or to help themselves, crying for help, or drowning. The young woman with the red headscarf at the right, the drowned maid at the left, behind her another young woman trying to save a child, among other figures, make the abstract horror tangible. The whole scenery is an illuminated triangle (by the lantern), in the background you can (barely) see the Church of St. Leopold, in the interior of the house which is cracked open at the left you can see (when looking especially close) an icon with the eternal light as a, somehow, enigmatic comment.

Personal drama you have in Francesco Hayez´ Secret Accusation (1847): via the barely controlled inner turmoil you have a strong narrative element, a face that indicates a thousand words, you have colour, a clever handling of light and, via the slightly protuberant breasts, eroticism and a prophecy of eruption in general.

In Massimo d`Azeglio´s Vendetta (1835) you have an interplay of drama, vividness, wildness, temper, romanticism, morbidity and, seemingly, a final resolution into cosmic indifference concerning the entire scene and the nature it is set into.

Piety, relating to an intellectually and ethically superior instance, you have, of a collective of people embedded in nature, in Josef Höger´s Chapel in the Forest (1835), and of the devoted individual of Waldmüller´s Girl decorating the Mother of God with a Rose (1836).

The resignated (or resentful) mournfulness of Joszef Borsos´ Widow (1853), and the painting in itself, is somehow enigmatic and intransparent, open to interpretation, respectively, since all the interpretations remain open, creates an atmosphere of thoughfulness; in contrast to Giuseppe Molteni´s young woman viscerally Deeply Saddened about the Loss of the Beloved (1850); touching and thoughtful are both paintings, with Moltani primarily touching the empathy of the heart and Borsos primarily touching the empathy of the mind; in Molteni´s you have a striking luminosity of the black dress which you will remember forever (and which would have provoked the recognition, perhaps the envy of Ad Reinhardt).

Domenico Induno´s Melancholia (1849) shows a careworn, crestfallen girl with rumpled hair (which was maybe cut off violently), you sense that her depression and inactivity, her being made mute by external circumstances is an active, multifaceted inner process with resentment and anger becoming prevalent, although the unusual oval form of the painting indicates a condition encircled in itself and in its own hopelessness – it portrays not only a personal situation but also the mourning about a heteronomous, defeated Italia, respectively, maybe, the insulted Italia herself.

Franz Eybl´s Girl Reading (1850) is of above average but not of splendid beauty which makes her even more beautiful since due to this she becomes tangible, and look at the masterful reflection of light in her black hair, the a bit unreal and eccentric but underlining portrayal of the book pages (i.e. a girl holding a book in a specifically lucky moment), the dress falling from her shoulder provoking an interplay of the nuances between the aesthetic, the sensual and the erotic. Delicious is how her hand is reflected in the leather binding of the book and, in general, the soft contours due to use of a contuser. Johann Baptist Reiter´s Boy Reading (1860), beautiful as he is, magnificent the reflection of light, he both seems to be dazzled by the enlightening content as well as somehow autonomous in relation to it, he gets impressions and maybe he accumulates and forms thoughts in his mind, maybe a young genius (not as somehow pious like Eybl´s girl, though there is also a somehow sovereign distance between the book and the girl).

Leonie Gräfin Lanckoronska, as portayed with her son Karl  by Karl von Blaas (in 1852) has a somehow interesting, slightly marked and idiosyncratic face (where what is interesting is that it is slightly marked, a decent aberration from the norm, the markedness and idiosyncracy is suggested and does not come in vulgar opulence – which I find very good, since the small thing, not the vulgarly opulent one is the locus of truth and beauty, and where the universal whole becomes tangible (or so)).

Karoly Markó´s Southern Landscape with Sunset (1847) and Albert Zimmermann´s Sunset at Hintersee in Berchtesgarden (1858) are ideal, transhistorical landscapes.

Finally, you proceed to Waldmüller´s charming scenes depicting people and children from the countryside, symbolising the natural and the innocent (and, of course, particularly provoking criticism about suggested lack of critical attitude; Waldmüller, however, did make social commentary as well, and with Exhausted Strengh (1854), portraying the situation of single mothers, it comes in in a striking, upsetting way). Waldmüller is depicting people in characteristic moments, his paintings are particularly dynamic. As probably the most eminent artist of his time in Vienna he was exploring new horizons in art, depicting people and scenery in natural light, which caused anger and irritation, respectively envy and hostility among the academics due to which he fell from grace later in life and was rediscovered only at the turn of the 20th century as the master painter of that period. The most breathtaking example of his mastery of his later period may be Country People Resting (1859) where every inch of the painting is perfect; and especially in the trees in Early Spring in the Vienna Woods (The Violet Pickers) (1861) you seem to have an anticipation of Klimt and Schiele.

Aaahhhh… how rührselig, how sentimental, all that! But that´s how, at least, I am, rührselig, and sentimental, and I like it that way. I think all problems in the world, about which people commonly like to mourn, without usually ever being interested or able to get a clear idea about their nature, and why they evolve, could be solved – or at least taken to another level of problem solving capability – within minutes with everyone being considerably more like that. If the question Is that Biedermeier? does not make you revolve a lot, you´re as good as dead. You may think you´re cooler than Biedermeier, but you are not.

Update about Jennifer/Ryonen

Relating to the post below, I want to state that I find idiosyncratic beauty the highest form of beauty. Kinda manufactured beauty of popular models does not particularly attract me, since it usually lacks individuality. Jennifer Sullins/Ryonen Cava I find one of the most interesting aesthetic phenomena on Earth. She embodies one of the highest idiosyncratic beauties. Her beauty comes in an unexpected way, I have not thought about her specific beauty before, it did not approach me in my mind. What can you ever desire more?

Jennifer Sullins | Anthony Maule | CR Fashion Book #1, F/W 2012/2013 | ‘The White Mughal’

www.reneeruin.com: Who’s that Girl? – Ryonen

“CARMEN” comic Ryonen (Jennifer Sullins) on Behance

Alice Séthe

Den stärksten Eindruck in der Pointillismusausstellung hat auf mich van Ryesselberghes “Porträt der Alice Séthe” gemacht.

Vielleicht schau ich extra deswegen noch ein zweites Mal da hin. Andererseits sehe ich eh dauernd was von enormer ästhetischer Strahlkraft und Perfektion, die Welt ist diesbezüglich ja auch reichhaltig; warum an meinen Mitmenschen, inklusive der Kulturbeflissenen, das alles einfach immer nur so vorbeizieht, weiß ich auch nicht; ist mir aber auch wurscht, was die machen.

(Die Person mit der interessanten Physiognomie ist Jennifer Sullins/Ryonen Cava)

In the Elysian Fields with August Macke

Ahhh, the good August Macke! Highly receptible as he was, he refuted Kandinsky´s intellectualism, and the Ideenmalerei (of the Blue Rider) in general. In his short life he resonated to all the stylistic and intellectual tendencies and the new developments in art in this extremely vivid era (at the turn of the 20th century), he approached them all and experimented with and included them all. As a true genius he paved his own way. His objection to Ideenmalerei was marked, but not outspoken and aggressive. His temperament was not like that. He had a pleasant personality. Instead of being overly intellectual and intellectualised, he was interested in the sensual pleasures of colour and in the melodious sound of form. He was attracted to earthly beauty. His endeavour was to paint people in paradise.

See how his people seemingly float through the Garden of Eden! You usually see them a bit from behind, or their faces are (relatively) empty. They have lost their individuality, they have evaded the personality principle. They have left behind what is bad and what seperates us from each other and from the direct contact to nature, and to beauty (commonly referred to as the „ego“).

A friend of mine, Tanja, who teaches children how to dance said to me: in order to get children to like you, and that they accept your authority, you have to call them by their names, and adress them personally. Indeed, people are very fond of that. Evil leaders give the lead the impression that they do (that they personally adress people), and usually it works, and then they can do whatever they want. In the ficticious Q Continuum (from the Star Trek series), the nearly omnipotent, god-like Q, who are referred to as the highest point of evolution, have NO names and obviously do not place any importance on having names. In Macke´s paradise, his floaters also seem to have left that behind. – It is true that Macke´s floaters through paradise don´t seem to really notice the beauty of their surroundings (often they just look down and seem to have a limited, egocentric, purely functional perspective), but let us say it is a reference to the real world, let us say they are occupied with their inner processes which are of a higher nature, let us say they´re simply at one with their surroundings, and let us say we do not actually understand it and we should just celebrate it.

Look at how Macke´s young women are attracted to hats, clothes, boutiques! Some say, this is evil, and mistake it for evil. I, however, have always resonated a lot when someone has bought a new thing – a mobile phone, for example – and then sits in the park, unpacks it and gets immersed into it, tries it out, tries to get into contact with it and to handle it. I like this because this person has made herself happy and is happily curious. This is the best part of the human experience! I say, anyone unable to resonate to that, very likely has very shitty mirror neurons, and no empathy – fuck that. Macke´s woman Before the Hat Shop has cleared her individuality and resonates (in a sovereign way) to the hat she might like. Practically everything that is good about humanity is in that painting.

Macke was a master of colour. His colours are contrasting, but not in an aggressive way. Rather, you have an emphasis on the colourfulness of nature. Macke was a master of illustrating the gracefulness of form. It can be said that Macke´s most personal style which evolved in his later years is set in the continuum between absolute geometric clarity and impressionistic dissolution. Macke managed the conflict between individualisation and generalisation, he managed the objectification of the subjective, and the subjectification of the objective. This is never a trivial problem in art, and was not a trivial problem at his time. In doing so, Macke navigated his way through the probably deepest intellectual problem of art.

August Macke had a very pleasant, charming, optimistic personality. Unlike many other artists he did not particularly display quasi-depressive ruminativeness and getting lost in one´s own inner complexity. Although an idiosyncratic outsider, he was not an isolated loner. He liked high life but did not succumb to alcoholism, drugs, or other shit. He remained an innocent hedonist. He found his sweethart, Elisabeth, at a young age, and they lived a happy marriage. He loved to go to the theater, the cinema, the circus, he loved all things horseplay and slapstick and felt especially attracted to clowns. He reportedly was always moved to tears when he was watching a scene in which a woman was miserable.

August Macke died at age 27 in Perthes-lès-Hulus in the Champagne on Sept. 26th, 1914, in the Great War. In his letters he depicted the horrors of war, but he did not display resentment. Maybe because he always was actually inhabing the Elysian Fields. He is buried in a mass grave at a soldier´s cemetary in Souain. In the obituary Franz Marc mourned Macke´s transformation as an irredeemable loss, with no one ever being able to continue alongside this specific trajectory. Soon thereafter the two friends reconciled in the Valhalla.

Clement Greenberg

“Hervorragende Kunstwerke zu machen ist für gewöhnlich eine beschwerliche Arbeit. Doch im Modernismus wurde nicht nur das Herstellen, sondern vor allem das Betrachten von Kunst noch anstrengender, musste man sich die Befriedigung und die Freude, die die beste neue Kunst vermitteln kann, mühsam erringen. In den letzten mehr als einhundertfünfunddreißig Jahren waren die beste neue Malerei und die beste neue Skulptur (und die beste neue Dichtung) zu ihrer Zeit für den Kunstliebhaber eine Herausforderung und eine Prüfung, wie sie es früher nicht gewesen waren. Doch gibt es den Drang sich auszuruhen, wie es ihn immer gegeben hat. Er ist eine permanente Bedrohung der Qualitätsmaßstäbe. Dass dieser Drang auszuruhen sich in immer anderer Weise ausdrückt, bezeugt nur seine Dauerhaftigkeit. Das Gerede von der „Postmoderne“ ist eine weitere Ausducksform dieses Dranges. Und es ist vor allem eine Art, sich dafür zu rechtfertigen, dass man weniger anspruchsvolle Kunst bevorzugt, ohne deswegen reaktionär oder zurückgeblieben genannt zu werden (was die schlimmste Befürchtung der neumodischen Philister der Avantgarde ist).”

(Modern und Postmodern, 1980)

Wols

Wols said to Ione Robinson that van Gogh is the end of paining, in the paintings of van Gogh everything explodes; and I said elsewhere (in the Books of Strange and Unproductive Thinking) that – as it occurs to me – while in the paintings of Vincent everything explodes into an outer space, in the paintings of Wols everything seemingly explodes into an inner space; I may have failed to thorougly describe it: They are maybe the projections of explosions/happenings that materialise in a higher dimensional spacetime into man´s limited dimensional prison, or they, so to say, capture the inner intensity of explosions, make the inner intensity of explosions visible, show these explosions/happenings in a kind of phase space. Wols is a reincarnation of Vincent some decades later and the projection of Vincent into an enlarged, respectively more complex inner phase space (or so). I may have failed to thoroughly describe it.

(Like Vincent) Wols was exceptionally intelligent, an extremely divergent thinker, very handy with making associations; his life was chaotic, impulsive and he lived intuitively, he repelled organisation and institution and regulation and unfortunately progressed into a heavy drinker which may have contributed to his untimely death at age 38 (due to a meat poisoning). He was an outsider from early on and discribed his adolescence as „horrific“ („After a rather unfortunate youth, at odds with myself, nowhere homogenous, I faced at the same time all kinds of problems. I have never been particularly well up to date about what happened with me and in my surroundings despite all efforts of work and contemplation.“)

Sartre, who knew Wols, supported him financially and tried to help him, called Wols a „hybrid between a human and a Martian“ – and it is true that fellows like Wols are both most at the center of the human experience as well as they are aliens who try to communicate with the Earthlings, with mixed responses, and to not very much avail – Sartre tried to understand Wols as an incarnation of existentialist nausée who would fit into his philosophy, Wols however was always heavily reluctant to offer explanations to his work or to his approach, in his encounters with Ione Robinson he announced that he does not know what he is doing, he may be a microbe („I am a victim, by natural history. A microbe, probably observed through a telescope by inhabitants of an atom, or by the secret service of the milky way“, he said in one of his aphorisms), he said to her that it is of no use trying to explain his paintings to her (Ione Robinson was a figurative painter) since she would not understand it anyway („Often I observe with my eyes closed, what I observe. Everything is there, it is beautiful, it exhausts“; „Those who dream when they are awake have knowledge of a thousand things, which slip the attention of those who dream only when they are asleep“; „Observerving means closing the eyes“, as he noted in his aphorisms), most famously, while having a walk with Ione, he immediately drew his attention to a crack in the pavement and announced that this crack would resemble his art: the crack would live and grow, it is an expression of the forces of nature – which lead to the interpretation that Wols is a kind of microbe which recognises the invisible, or other universes than ordinary (and even extraordinary) man does.

Because of being a mismatcher par excellence, Wols never felt at home in the art scene. His endeavour reached into the creation of a kind of Gesamtkunstwerk, the Circus Wols, with not only his paintings but also his aphorisms and scrapbooks being an integral part of it (and unfortunately the ultimate realisation of Circus Wols was made impossible by his early death). In his aphorisms and scrapbooks a vision and understanding of everything being connected and every thing being a window through which one can see eternity (for those who CAN see) is prominent. He liked Kafka, Baudelaire, Lautréamont, Poe, Rimbaud, van Gogh and others he called „Irrlichter“ (ghost lights) … me, I also had this vision of these guys (especially when thinking of Kafka) being Irrlichter, a light that illuminates the human condition reluctantly, ponderingly, flickering (I have also called them Negative Buddhas) … because the only true, and upright, light in the circus humanum (and therefore always threatened with extinction) are they, the Ultracomplex. – At his time and after his death Wols had influence on art informel and tachism but his popularity became soon overshadowed by pop art and the like. It is true that Wols´ art is not an extroverted art. It is true that it is singular. And it is true that it comes from the shadow realms of human thought, it even comes from the shadow realms of the Continuum (where the geniuses and their eternal ideas/creations dwell), as an mixture of explosion and implosion, explosions that happen in the exurbia regions and then maybe get sucked into, implode into the unknown, the uninhabitable … „ahhh, the exurbia regions of human thought, , where the dances of signifiers and the signified become most dislocated and most elementary, hyper-authentic, hyper-innocent, ready to return to base again … after that the seam of infinity, which we love“, as I put it elsewhere; Wols may have put it differently, in another language, in other „symbols“, then he disappears…

It got noted  by Dominique de Menil that Wols was „a rebel who did not even care about rebellion“ (and „Painting or not painting, it is equal to Wols. But it is strange how he wanders about like Poe´s „Man of the Crowd“, and from time to time may leech off a glass of booze, whereas the Guilty comfortably relish literature and their beefsteak“, was one of his aphorisms), and it got noted that Wols´ paintings are beyond any truly comprehensive intellectual interpretation. I happened to browse to the tables of painting in that book and saw, on a double page, Vert cache rougé (1947) and Ohne Titel (1946/47). Especially in Ohne Titel I saw a kind of face which presents itself in a grotesque and confusing way to the intellectuals, or to humanity in general, to those who want to decipher it, and also to those who would like to make an intellectual toy out of Wols, but will never succeed.

And I had to really laugh about this <3

It made my day.

By second observation/upon reflection, the face presented seems to be neither particularly happy or unhappy, as well as it is neither particularly loosened and unchained from the space it emerges from nor particularly spilled by it and submerged. Wols was considered by some as an unhappy artist, an artist who paints, displays and represents „damaged life“. Wols, of course, was aware of this, the misera conditio, but refuted interpretations of him as an artist who mourns about the horrors of existence. „I am a lover of life“ (depite all that, and despite his own miserable condition), he confirmed to Ione Robinson. It was noted that in his encounters with Ione Robinson Wols remained evasive, overly associative and metaphoric, and enigmatic. Grohmann noted that Wols constitutes upon multiple and eternal contradictions (and through this, may achieve completeness). I have called them elsewhere the Ultracomplex People, and we are actually not evasive, metaphoric or enigmatic at all, our minds just appear somehow bizarre to others – while in reality we are overly sane. In our inner life, due to absence of ego, there are no true inner anchors, just, more or less, fluidity. What others see as contradictions, battles or explosions within us – well, maybe on the vast wide sea: there are two ships colliding, maybe there is even a sea battle… but there is, first and foremost, the vast wide ocean, with all sorts of life and things happening in no way ever affected by them, being of a different logic or embedded into another subsystem, like the fishes and the deep sea fishes, and the good morays… there is also land and shit, and sky, and open space… that is the arena! The inner life of the ultracomplex person is its own phase space. So to say. The ultracomplex person may only appear to be complex, because the UP is the all, the „living microcosm“, there is perfect fluidity; the complexity may come into being by the circumstance of the UP being thrown into an intractable, internally segmented world, which therefore makes the efforts to communicate and the efforts to establish communion of the UP with his surroundings apparently convulsive and seem like apparently enigmatic explosions. Wols was one of us, of the Ultracomplex.

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