vince’s ear

Perhaps I should start a new category called “bizarre,” because I can’t think of any other way to describe this one.

Ever faint in a museum and not know why? Ever look at art and forget where you are, get dizzy, and begin hallucinating? If so, then you may have Stendhal’s Syndrome. This strange affliction is a psychosomatic (the mind affecting the body) illness that happens to some people when they witness art.

Symptoms are dizziness, rapid heartbeat, hallucinations, and confusion. This isn’t the type of confusion you get when trying to figure out a Cy Twombly painting, but rather a forget-your-name type of confusion. This can happen when someone is exposed to particularly beautiful art or large amounts of art in one place. Very odd.

The name comes from the pen name of a French author in the 19th century who described his experiences in Florence. It has been observed by psychiatrists over a hundred times in tourists particularly in Florence, especially at the Uffizi Gallery. The syndrome is also present in some people when exposed to music from the Romantic period.

I’ve been known to bore people with my art, but never caused severe psychological disturbances. In my case people may start hallucinating about better art. I must say though, that while I’ve never fainted looking at art, there have been times when I’m totally lost in a painting. Some art really is that good that it enraptures me.

Medieval European art is predominantly religious in nature. The landscape, still life, and other genres were subordinate to holy artwork made in the name of God. Most patrons willing and able to pay for an artist’s work were religious leaders from the Church. In order to educate the illiterate congregations of the scriptures and lives of the saints, stories had to be told in pictures on the walls of every chapel, church, and cathedral. In addition to the church commissioning paintings, art was sought by the wealthy and heads of state, who were, incidentally, also very religious. So it’s no surprise we see a dominance of religion in painting and sculpture.

The painting above, “Christ Giving His Blessing,” by Hans Memling was actually painted some years into the Renaissance. In a time when much of the artwork was returning to classical secular themes, Memling was continuing the traditions of Rogier van der Weyden and others in helping to keep Christian subject matter a popular one.

The Christ above is emphasized against a dark background and wearing dark clothes giving the portrait a straight to the point simplicity. The subject is confident, whose eyes are somewhat hypnotizing. The stare seems to pierce into your soul, ready to judge, ready to forgive, while the right hand blesses in the name of the father. The left hand rests on the bottom of the pictorial space, further giving Jesus a presence in reality. Memling’s rendition here is probably the finest of its kind.

OMM 0910

Are there any hardcore George Lucas fans out there? Recognize Christ’s face in any of Lucas’ films? I’ll give you a hint. The cult classic, starring a young Robert Duvall, is about a dystopian future not unlike the visions of Brave New World and 1984.

The movie is THX 1138, about a time when everybody is number, required to stay heavily medicated, and enforced by robot “officers.” If you feel you are not properly sedated and don’t speak up, you can be arrested for “criminal drug evasion.” The Memling Christ painting finds itself as the state-sanctioned deity OMM 0910. Robert Duvall is seen in the shot above and the clip below confessing in a “Unichapel.” Of course, the conversation is recorded and anything you say can get you terminated. Nonetheless, the God feigns interest and repeats a recording ending in suggestions to “buy more and be happy.”

Jesus’ staring eye in Memling’s painting is a perfect example of “Big Brother is always watching you.”

But without going on a rant about my political pessimism (or is it pessimistic politics?), watch the clip, followed by a trailer below it.

I had just finished watching Searching For Bobby Fischer the other day after a sudden chess mood and I set out to search the disaster area that is my room for my old chess book. In my searches I stumbled on an Aesop’s Fables book I bought at a book sale years ago. It was the same book sale where I passed on buying a “Joy of Painting” type book written by Winston Churchill long before World War 2. I don’t know why I didn’t get it, but I kicked myself when I found that the book sells for about $60, it being somewhat rare. (Doh!)

Anyway, to make a long story longer, I tossed the book aside but then noticed it was illustrated by Alexander Calder of the famous Calder family of Philadelphia. It was his grandfather, Alexander Milne Calder, who sculpted the most well-known statue in Philadelphia- the William Penn atop the City Hall. Alexander’s father was also a prominent Philadelphia artist who, among other things, designed fountains around the city, including on at the end of the Ben Franklin Parkway.

Interestingly, standing above the Great Stair Hall in the Philadelphia Art Museum, you can look out the window toward the east entrance and gaze out at the Parkway. With one of Alexander Calder’s giant mobiles hanging above the stairway behind you, you can see Alexander Sterling Calder’s fountain with Alexander Milne Calder’s William Penn off into the distance, all forming a straight line.

Being the youngest of three generations of great artists, Alexander had no lack of skill and creativity. Many of his sculptures dot the landscape around many of Philadelphia’s public areas. I had not known that he illustrated anything and count the discovery serendipitous. The illustrations are very interesting and seem all to be contour pen drawings drawn mostly in one looping stroke.

I took the liberty of including some scans here for you. See if you can tell which fables they are. Enjoy.

P.S.- It’s been a while since I posted anything due to recent case of poison ivy rash which rendered my fingers useless when it came to typing. Starting a garden required the clearing of many poison ivy vines. In an effort to find my green thumb I got a red one instead.

During my absence the readership of this blog has tripled for some reason. What’s the moral to that fable?

Just wanted to share with you Odilon Redon’s Cyclops. Pretty creepy.