Awesome Heroic Sculpture by Living Artist


Newberry

Recommended Posts

Incidentally, there was a discussion on The Thinker on the old SoloHQ started with a small article by Michael Marotta: A POINT OF DISPUTE: Thinking about The Thinker. A pretty good discussion followed. I will let Michael's inspiring words speak for themselves in an excerpt from the article:

Rodin's The Thinker embodies the essence of human nature. Certainly it reflects the primary values in Rodin's nature.

The Thinker is massive. He is a mountain of metal, a hard, dark, cold, rough triangle. He is massive. His muscles are herculean, even titanic. The arms, legs, back, are not elements of a man but the geography of a mountain peak.

And he is immobile.

He is not redirecting rivers or reshaping mountains because he is thinking. Thought, not action, is the essence of man. Thought is the spark which ignites the engine of action. Once man decides, he is capable of attempting anything and achieving much. But thought comes first.

The transhuman muscles -- knotted from a life of impossibly hard labors -- reflect the invisible and intangible power of thought. Do you want to see how strong ideas are? Look at The Thinker. Those arms, that back, those legs, are the concepts, axioms, abstractions, and conclusions which are the essence of humanity.

He is immobile because he will not act -- cannot act -- without thought. Purpose is the hallmark of the rational being.

Rodin's work is typically big, rough, hard, and cold. His comic Balzaac has the same qualities. Yet The Kiss is smooth, soft, plastic -- in tension with the bronze from which it springs and again with the bronze beneath the surface. The Idole Eternelle, draws a deep erotic act of worship from the rough stone base. This motif is similar to the method of his nymph (Danae). Rodin's most dramatic use of this tension is The Hand of God. The supremely perfect hand holds between its thumb and forefinger, a rough lump of clay. The clay already shows the stresses and folds of the first workings of the fingers.

These works glorify man. They praise achievement and the fires that make it possible: thought, love, and will. I highly recommend the works of Rodin to anyone who enjoys the works of Ayn Rand.

Now that rings true.

Michael

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 237
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

[After quoting Sures on "The Thinker":] The very first time I read this, my jaw dropped open. And that was in my Randroid phase years ago. That interpretation is one of the most boneheaded things I ever read coming out of the orthodoxy. [...]

I'll have to agree with Michael on, literally, every word of this. Right down to being flummoxed by it on first reading, when I, too, was a Randroid.

Normally, one doesn't have to note such simple agreement, but with how we've differed bitterly on esthetic matters, I thought he might appreciate it. (I'm still playing my DVD of "Little Miss Sunshine" this weekend, though. {rueful smile})

As for Rodin more generally, I'm a partisan of "The Kiss" myself, but "The Thinker" is still vibrant and compelling.

I put it in the same league with Peikoff's original moral condemnation of the film The Titanic saying, before he saw it that it was "pure Karl Marx from beginning to end," and after he saw it that Rose (the heroine) was a prostitute.

What IS it with this tendency in the Orthodoxy — right back to Rand and John Rawls — that thinks the reviewing-of-reviews is either productive or objective? I've found that maddening. If only because this has been a broad highway for other intellectuals to lampoon Objectivists in general.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As for Michael Newberry's negative opinion of film scores, I'm reluctant to add to the general mishigass tossed around above by all parties, but will nonetheless say this:

Judging a film score, by a master such as Max Steiner, is made much easier and far more objective by actually listening to a recording apart from the film, where it's quite easy to see what goes beyond mere decoration of the visuals. As is true, and possible, with Steiner's score for "The Fountainhead." As I'm going to do today with Ilan Eshkeri's newly brilliant work for "Stardust."

And, by the way, judging a score solely by the pieces that make it through to your conscious mind while watching a film ... well, to me, that's like saying that Tchaikovsky's "Pathetique" Symphony is a piece that celebrates triumph, by only listening to its third movement. As it was used by "our Russian allies" in World War Two propaganda films.

(I will never forget seeing Leonard Bernstein conduct the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in this work at the Ravinia Festival. After the "heroic" third movement, he had to turn to the audience, which — apart from my family and a handful of others — was applauding wildly. And he had to shush them with his hands. I'm rarely inclined to mutter about the clueless, at such a concert, but I did that night.)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

(snip)
One of Rodin's most famous and popular works, The Thinker, sums up his view of man's wretched state. The figure is seated, hunched over in a position that combines strain and limpness. The muscles in his arms, legs and toes are knotted and cramped. The size and development of his body indicate that it was once powerful and energetic, but is now exhausted. His external, physical state reveals his inner strain: the strain of engaging in mental activity.

The very first time I read this, my jaw dropped open. And that was in my Randroid phase years ago. That interpretation is one of the most boneheaded things I ever read coming out of the orthodoxy. I put it in the same league with Peikoff's original moral condemnation of the film The Titanic saying, before he saw it that it was "pure Karl Marx from beginning to end," and after he saw it that Rose (the heroine) was a prostitute. (See here for communist and here for prostitute.)

(snip)

Michael

Silliness - both the quote about Rodin, and Peikoff's comments.

I think this is an example of people attempting to imitate Rand, and the result in these two cases . . . what appear to be thoughtless, shoot-from-the-hip comments which seem to have no connection to reality.

Admittedly, Rand seemed at times to attempt to equate HER AESTHETIC PREFERENCES with OBJECTIVIST PREFERENCES. I would argue that at least some of such instances were arguable, and not just plain silly. Her dislike for Beethoven, for instance. Though I certainly enjoy some of Beethoven's work, I can see how she can hear a certain darkness in his work, at times.

Then a Peikoff or a Sures attempts to imitate Rand, and they are definitely off the rails. Peikoff's comments about Titanic are amazingly silly.

Alfonso

Link to comment
Share on other sites

As for Michael Newberry's negative opinion of film scores, I'm reluctant to add to the general mishigass tossed around above by all parties, but will nonetheless say this:

Judging a film score, by a master such as Max Steiner, is made much easier and far more objective by actually listening to a recording apart from the film, where it's quite easy to see what goes beyond mere decoration of the visuals. As is true, and possible, with Steiner's score for "The Fountainhead." As I'm going to do today with Ilan Eshkeri's newly brilliant work for "Stardust."

And, by the way, judging a score solely by the pieces that make it through to your conscious mind while watching a film ... well, to me, that's like saying that Tchaikovsky's "Pathetique" Symphony is a piece that celebrates triumph, by only listening to its third movement. As it was used by "our Russian allies" in World War Two propaganda films.

(I will never forget seeing Leonard Bernstein conduct the Chicago Symphony Orchestra in this work at the Ravinia Festival. After the "heroic" third movement, he had to turn to the audience, which — apart from my family and a handful of others — was applauding wildly. And he had to shush them with his hands. I'm rarely inclined to mutter about the clueless, at such a concert, but I did that night.)

Excellent post.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I don't want to speak for anybody, but I can't imagine any of the OL posters on their worst day coming up with something like the following from Metaphysics in Marble by Mary Ann Sures, The Objectivist, February and March 1969 (on ORC, from the link given by Merlin).
One of Rodin's most famous and popular works, The Thinker, sums up his view of man's wretched state. The figure is seated, hunched over in a position that combines strain and limpness. The muscles in his arms, legs and toes are knotted and cramped. The size and development of his body indicate that it was once powerful and energetic, but is now exhausted. His external, physical state reveals his inner strain: the strain of engaging in mental activity.

Truth to tell, the description isn't so far removed from the way I see the statue. I never have liked that particular piece in relationship to its title. "The Ponderer" seems to me a better title. I see the pose as one a person might be twisted into when deeply perplexed. And I see it as making "thinking" look like an onerous activity, a burden, not a pleasure. I'd take Vermeer's "Astronomer" and "Geographer" as more my idea of the thinker's general lifestyle.

And how about this as a picture of "The Thinker"? There was one I like even better which was shown (in connection with some remarks about teaching physics) at the dinner talk Friday at the conference I was attending, but I don't know where to find that one. Thinking, for sure, isn't always the fun activity Feynman could make it look; sometimes it is the difficult pondering of the Rodin sculpture. But I've never liked the idea of the sculpture as "epitomizing" thinking (though I wouldn't have expressed my opinion in the style of Mary Ann's comments).

Ellen

___

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Silliness - both the quote about Rodin, and Peikoff's comments.

I think this is an example of people attempting to imitate Rand, and the result in these two cases . . . what appear to be thoughtless, shoot-from-the-hip comments which seem to have no connection to reality.

[....]

Then a Peikoff or a Sures attempts to imitate Rand, and they are definitely off the rails. [....]

Peikoff's Titanic comments were written long enough after Rand's death, she could have had no say in the wording. ;-) Mary Ann's comments, however, were written for and published in The Objectivist. This means they were Rand-approved at minimum; it also means the strong possibility of editorial help from Rand -- she's known to have provided assistance with organization and/or details of wording when she wasn't quite happy with what the credited author produced.

Ellen

___

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Truth to tell, the description isn't so far removed from the way I see the statue. I never have liked that particular piece in relationship to its title. "The Ponderer" seems to me a better title. I see the pose as one a person might be twisted into when deeply perplexed. And I see it as making "thinking" look like an onerous activity, a burden, not a pleasure.

___

You have described the nuanced difference very well, and I think it is spot on.

Michael

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Is mulling over the meaning of life or something very important, especially where a value judgment must be made, a pleasure? I have always thought it was pleasure, but in a very special almost metaphysical sense: a sober, intense pleasure that has its own nature, which includes a great deal of focused effort. Not a joyous laughing carefree kind of pleasure.

At the time I read and became aghast at Sures's manifestation of selective eloquence, I had considered Rodin's sculpture indicative of a quote from Rand that had always stuck in my mind. (From "The Comprachicos" in The Return of the Primitive, pp. 54-55):

Observe also the intensity, the austere, the unsmiling seriousness with which an infant watches the world around him. (If you ever find, in an adult, that degree of seriousness about reality, you will have found a great man.)

This is what I have carried in my heart about The Thinker for decades. I still do.

Michael

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Silliness - both the quote about Rodin, and Peikoff's comments.

I think this is an example of people attempting to imitate Rand, and the result in these two cases . . . what appear to be thoughtless, shoot-from-the-hip comments which seem to have no connection to reality.

[....]

Then a Peikoff or a Sures attempts to imitate Rand, and they are definitely off the rails. [....]

Peikoff's Titanic comments were written long enough after Rand's death, she could have had no say in the wording. ;-) Mary Ann's comments, however, were written for and published in The Objectivist. This means they were Rand-approved at minimum; it also means the strong possibility of editorial help from Rand -- she's known to have provided assistance with organization and/or details of wording when she wasn't quite happy with what the credited author produced.

Ellen

___

Agreed. I didn't bother to point out the timing of the two (Peikoff's Titanic comments long after Rand's death, or Sures' comments edited by Rand), but obviously the two involve different amounts of direct influence by Rand.

Alfonso

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Just so there are no mistaken insinuations, I want to be clear that my remarks about The Thinker are proudly my own and I am not insinuating that Rand ever disagreed with Sures. According to Rand's published criteria, Sures's critique is Official Objectivism (with capital "O"s), since it was published in The Objectivist.

I strongly disagree with the evaluation of Rand/Sures about Rodin and always have.

Michael

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I found a copy of Alexandra York's book, From The Fountainhead to the Future. Here are a few excerpts from the section on The Thinker, with my comments interspersed:

York:

If we are aware of the original subject matter and the story behind The Gates of Hell, we might speculate that contemplation of Dante's inferno could certainly cause consternation such as that projected in this robust male. But that would be ignoring all of the other well-integrated cues of form (for example, the figure is nude, implying universality and timelessness) that indicate Rodin truly did not intend to particularize his final, finished figure nor its circumstance. It would also entail disbelieving the sculptor's own written declaration that the figure had moved beyond Dante's hell to a generalized image.

The idea of "moving beyond Dante" doesn't necessarily mean that all influences or elements of particularization of the figure or its circumstances have been eliminated. The fact that an artist started with a source of inspiration and creative intention and then changed course does not mean that the original inspiration and intention have been completely disregarded in the final piece.

York:

So we must accept this figure as Rodin's projection of the process of thinking. Furthermore, we must remember that Rodin, himself, described his "thinker" as "creator." Based on the artist's statement, what implications can we conjecture it might mean concerning Rodin's personal, internal experience of the creation of his own art in accordance with his larger worldview of life and man's place in it? For Rodin, this is the human condition, what thinking man looks like—what creator looks like.

Is York suggesting that we must accept the figure as Rodin's projection of the universal essence of all thinking and creating? I identify with the sculpture as representing a type of thinking and creating, a type that I experience in real life. I also identify with Vermeer's Astronomer and Geographer as types of thinking and creating (as Ellen does), which I also experience in real life. If I choose to paint an image of a thinker/creator, must I choose the one which I believe is the universal essence of all thinking/creating?

York:

Whatever hypotheses we may venture, however, one thing is certain: Rodin's Thinker absolutely expresses stressed exertion in every way. For those of us who find intellection a joyous, thrilling, exciting challenge—we who love to think—this image will probably not provide agreeable contemplation, for the strained mental and physical state is not one we experience in our own lives when it comes to tackling problems.

I disagree. I love thinking, tackling problems and creating. Sometimes doing so is very difficult, and involves a great deal of struggle and pain, which is sometimes the price to be paid for accomplishment. Sometimes thinking and creating involves intense soul-searching, or being one's own toughest critic, which is not always fun. Sometimes when I'm creating, I find myself very disturbed with how a project is proceeding, and I recognize that I may need to abandon everything I've done so far and start over. The feeling of making that decision is usually closer to Rodin's Thinker than to Vermeer's Astronomer or Geographer, yet it can be an essential part of breathing life -- perhaps even "magic" -- into a creation rather than settling for what those who enjoy perpetually joyous intellection would likely accept as comfortably "good enough."

How do those who "find intellection a joyous, thrilling, exciting challenge" depict a figure dealing with an important, difficult concept, if not through visual information which implies great effort? If visual evidence of struggle and strain is absent from such a work of art, there is nothing to communicate the immensity, importance and difficulty of the ideas being pondered.

York:

If one holds reason as a value but finds the use of it difficult, a poignant yet sympathetic interaction relating to the eternal effort employed by Rodin's figure could occur.

I hold reason as a value, but do not generally find the use of it difficult. I do, however, find some of the great dilemmas that mankind has pondered to be difficult, as have some of the greatest minds and valuers of reason who have ever existed. Many of them have spent long hours with furrowed brows in deep contemplation, yet have never resolved to their satisfaction some of the complex problems they've pondered. They didn't do so because they hated using reason.

J

Edited by Jonathan
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Not to keep referencing SOLOP, but I've got a serious question related to this:

I have to say that whole exercise was very enlightening. (As was the trip over to OL, Jonathan seems rather... 'attached' to you...

It's interesting to me that that is sometimes the response that people, including Newberry, have when I argue with Newberry -- that I'm "attached to," "obsessed with," or "fixated on" him. I don't remember anyone ever having the same response when I've disagreed, just as vigorously, if not more so, with people like Pigero, Cresswell, Rowlands or Gores, or when I've been critical of the views of ARC's Fred Ross, or of artists associated with the Lack Atelier, or of Kamhi and Torres or Roger Bissell.

What is it about my disagreeing with Newberry that makes people feel that I'm "attached" to him, but they don't think the same about my disagreeing with anyone else?

J

Link to comment
Share on other sites

All I can say is that the independence to disagree with the Objectivist orthodoxy on art is one of the characteristics of the "spirit of OL." I don't want to speak for anybody, but I can't imagine any of the OL posters on their worst day coming up with something like the following from Metaphysics in Marble by Mary Ann Sures, The Objectivist, February and March 1969 (on ORC, from the link given by Merlin).

(snip)

Michael

I regard the "Metaphysics in Marble" article by Sures as an example of a sort of Rand-pastiche - not totally unlike those who attempt to write new stories about Sherlock Holmes, doing their best to write in the style of Arthur Conan Doyle.

Not well-written, not well-reasoned, but . . . having a certain style...

Alfonso

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I want to thank Jonathan for coining the term "Objectikitsch" a few days ago. For a long time it has been for me like fingernails on a chalkboard to observe a whole range of aspiring to semi-successful to would-be Objectivist artists, fiction writers, and op ed writers who are clumsy and lacking nuance or originality in their own works. And reviewers who seem to have read nothing beyond science fiction praising inept works simply beause of an Objectivist-friendly theme, no matter how poorly executed.

The mistake of substituting ideology for art. Or of not having enough exposure to or immersion in art across decades.

The problem most Objectivists have when they venture into the arts or into self-expression, even in non-fiction, is that they are not as deeply and broadly educated -- or self-educated-- as was to a large extent Rand and the centuries of great western writers and artists before her. This can be seen most clearly in the steady rain of too often clumsy and tone-deaf op eds or light-fiction-only recommendations by the Objectivist peanut gallery emerging out of the poor educational systems of the late twentieth century.

Over the years, there have been a few skillful writers and reviewers with good taste, but amazingly few, in the Objectivist movement or Objectivist circles. It is a movement whose average educational level -- particularly in the liberal arts and humanities, in visiting the great museums of Europe, in seeing Shakespeare plays or having read great literature -- judged by rational standards is far lower or more incomplete than that of its intellectual opponents among the liberals, the intellectuals, and the "literati" who write for the top magazines or who write the best-selling non-fiction books. [i will exclude the visual and some of the musical artists because, with the collapse of standards in that area, you truly don't have to have a better than kindergarten education to mush together smears and bent metal and paper mache or drumming sounds with insults.]

The same "knowledge and sensititivity deficit" applies not just to writing but to the visual arts. Just staying with the book covers and posters for a moment, there seems to be no middle ground: over the years they have been either magnificent . . . or cringe-inducing elementary school things which pretend at a grandiose emotional effect, but undercut the genuine thing by cheapening and exaggerating it. It's the difference between baroque (good baroque) and rococo. [As one example, the Ayn Rand postage stamp was effective, but the book covers by the same artist (Gaetano?) have been erratic - sometimes effective and sometimes the most horrendous, embarrassing kitsch.]

Notice how a great, emotion-inducing work of sculpture like Michelangelo's David is not overstated. He isn't bent over into a pretzel. His muscles don't bulge like Schwarzenegger. He doesn't bare his teeth or roll his eyes exaggeratedly at Goliath. He isn't shouting for attention or worried that the viewer won't get it. He doesn't have to put his hand on his chin to show he is thinking or measuring up the opponent or the effort yet to come. Or to take another example, the Winged Victory doesn't have to be dressed in feathers or and have tailfeathers instead of legs to project exaltation. A great work of art can project reaching for the sky with a very slight bend of the body or the angle of the head. It doesn't have to overdo it or do it twice to make sure you get it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I'm not at all sure that enough possible "Objectikitsch" even exists to warrant such an arch moniker in the first place. In terms of mass-audience recognition, I can think of only one genuine realm for it: the book covers of a certain author and her "authorized" associates. (With a handful of tangential works, such as that Rand postage stamp.)

That involves sales in the hundreds of thousands of copies per year, worthy of envy for all but a very few artists, but it's still extraordinarily limited in market scope. "We" here see it in larger terms because "we're" paying more attention to the works that are calling for such illustrations, which — let's admit it, even though they're dirty Objectiwords — have a major decorative or utilitarian aspect.

It's the very human foible of paying selective attention. You may notice what happens with the details and emphases of Rand cover art because, well, Rand issues matter to you. The rest of the art-consuming, reading public, on average, isn't going to care very much. A torrent of work has passed under the art bridges since the woman died a quarter-century ago and stopped writing (literature) a half-century ago.

Where any lines have been drawn beyond or extending from the impulses in Rand's works, by admirers of Rand's works, those distinctions rarely actually mention Rand's works. You won't see any real mention of Rand at Quent Cordair Fine Art, or the Art Renewal Center, or similar entities in the marketplace (literal or Web), because new creativity — or the rediscovery of it — has to be dealt with. However much the appeal or emphasis may be shaped by and toward those responding to the strengths of Rand's work.

If the lady's principles, esthetic and otherwise, are to be taken seriously, that's as it really ought to be. The world ought not to be hemmed in by how she saw it. Her insights should be used as tools to enable oneself to see the world better.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I want to thank Jonathan for coining the term "Objectikitsch" a few days ago.

For the record: he coined it some time back, maybe years ago. [Yikes; I thought it was Jonathan, and quite awhile back. Sorry, Dragonfly. So where/when did you coin it?]

The problem most Objectivists have when they venture into the arts or into self-expression, even in non-fiction, is that they are not as deeply and broadly educated -- or self-educated-- as was to a large extent Rand and the centuries of great western writers and artists before her.

That problem is much more widespread than amongst Objectivists, at least in persons graduating from American highschools post about 1960. I graduated from highschool in 1960. My teachers -- amongst whom were some extremely fine teachers of "the old school" -- were already then complaining of diminishing standards. The extent of decline might be illustrated by a conversation which occurred at the table where Larry and I were sitting at the Friday dinner banquet of the physics conference we attended this weekend. A perennial (these days) topic came up: How to get decently educated students? When you have people entering as physics majors who can't even add and subtract (let alone write grammatical English sentences...). Frightening.

Those who were attracted to Objectivism early in their lives, however, suffered under a couple inter-related additional handicaps along with generally declining educational standards. One is that Rand taught a view of the history of thought prior to her which is a dismal view of mostly a wasteland (populated by mind-destroyers) lit by only the rare exceptions. To the extent her view of the history of thought was believed, her followers weren't motivated to read outside the approved list. Furthermore, specifically as pertains to the realm of aesthetics, Rand's teachings instilled fear: "And so gentle reader do you [...]." As I encapsulated the fear many years ago, she presented "the aesthetic response as a morals exam." If one is afraid of revealing a flawed psyche by responding positively to the "wrong" art, one doesn't venture far from the apparently approved list. (Even there, people could err; for instance, those who expected Maxfield Parrish's work to be "approved" and then heard of Rand's dismissing it as "Trash.") Having the worry "What does this response mean about me?" hanging like the sword of Damocles over one's head in approaching the aesthetic realm, doesn't conduce to intrepid exploring.

Ellen

___

Edited by Ellen Stuttle
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"The Thinker" was derided by an Objectivist, Rand or Peikoff perhaps, I don't remember, in the 60s. The idea was that thinking wasn't such an agony.

--Brant

Maybe -The Thinker- was trying to prove Fermat's Last Theorem (many years before Wiles finally did it).

Ba'al Chatzaf

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I want to thank Jonathan for coining the term "Objectikitsch" a few days ago.

For the record: he coined it some time back, maybe years ago. [Yikes; I thought it was Jonathan, and quite awhile back. Sorry, Dragonfly. So where/when did you coin it?]

Here, and I used the term here (see here how popular the "head thrown backwards" posture is in this kind of paintings, and see also the absurd steroid monster by Gaetano) and recently here.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

If I choose to paint an image of a thinker/creator, must I choose the one which I believe is the universal essence of all thinking/creating?

I -- of course ;-) -- would say "of course not." But the universalized "essence" notion has become attached to that statue. I hope you understood it isn't the statue which bothers me but the linkage with the title. I see nothing to disagree with in the comments you made. Notice, though, that you at least 3 times (I counted 3 times) used the description "pondered" for what's depicted by the pose. Pondering is a type of thinking; but it isn't the whole category. I find the association between the title and the pose too wide -- and one which casts a painful aura, a quality of struggle, on the whole range of "thinking." I doubt that I'd have had troubles with that statue if he'd titled it, per my suggestion, "The Ponderer" or something else which doesn't universalize -- and if the statue hadn't so very often been taken as the "quintessential" image of thinking. (E.g., I've seen photos of it time and time again in universities as a kind of "icon" of "thought." I don't like that iconic linkage.)

Ellen

___

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now