I read that Alaska visited the Exhibition on Death at the Welcome building here in London shortly ere Christmas. Although I was not expecting much -the last one on drugs got me disappointed- this exhibition, following the collection of Richard Harry's paintings, did well on me and I visited it with relish.
Apart from all Vanitas variations (a blunt term if coined from Ecclesiastes -it is quite humorous the wit of those who baptized a fashion magazine with this name), dances-of-death topics and all memento mori stuff, there are in the collection a few pieces from the Japanese, Buddhist and Far-East cultures that deserve attention in detail. The colorful portraits from K. Kyosai's Ukiyo-e, the tau-tau of the Toraja of South Sulawesi (Indonesia) and that funny, but avenging couple of skeletons from the Himalayan underworld are among my favorite.
Death seems to fascinate us age after age and, clearly, its contradiction and opposite association with Life, most of all. I like the ancient Orphic Myth of Creation, which plainly makes Eros the Maker of all. In the words of Robert Graves: "the black-winged Night, a goddess of whom even Zeus stands in awe, was courted by the wind and laid a silver egg in the womb of Darkness", from which Eros, double-sexed and golden-winged (other versions recall this latter feature as well), was hatched, "and set the Universe in motion".
Pushing its way against Night and Darkness (in other words: against Death), Eros "finds its way", as J. Goldblum, talking about dinosaurs in an impossible world, put it. The original association of Eros with Life and Motion (against Death and perennial Constancy) is branded in the myth, as Eros is born with four heads: that of a ram, a lion, a snake and a bull. Those are the heads of the beasts commonly associated to the four seasons: spring, summer, winter and New Year. The seasons of Life in these latitudes.
Life is Beauty, or at least, that is what we feel desirable and have always desired. Graves says that it was in the times of Praxiteles (4th century B.C.) when the poets had already "sentimentalized" the role of Eros and converted Him into a "beautiful youth". It is why, perhaps, I can only picture Eros in my mind as a woman, instead of a man, as culture has been overwhelmingly patriarchal and Beauty has always lay in the body, features and countenance of women. I guess that the theme of all the roses, although breathtakingly beautiful, inextricably withering away as the winter comes (like the beautiful Catherine Linton, as she maddens and burns inside for love chocked with pride) is a logical follow-up step in the poetic mind. Memento Mori... Of course. A curious incident is that, last Wednesday afternoon, when I visited the exhibition, a number of attendees were young and beautiful woman... They were to me as appendixes of the etchings and lithographs, something you could divert your eyes and expand your senses on, as extra scents and jewels from which enrich... I had a great time!
I wish to mention an arched horn of ivory with death figures carved on it, about 50-cm long. It came straight to my mind, I confess: "oh, this a phallus, what a massive penis". The tag on the wall mentioned nothing of the sort, though. However, I reckon it contains some meaning of the kind. In different versions, Eros was made the son of Aphrodite, but given three different, remarkable fathers, all of them related to eroticism or, even, sexual rapacity: Ares, the god of war, with all the increase in the warrior sexual's desires; Zeus, who was even father to Aphrodite, incestuously; and, finally, Hermes. The Boeotians worshiped Eros in the shrine of Thespiae in the form of a phallic pillar, "the pastoral Hermes or Priapus, under a different name", tells Graves... So, why not?
Tod und Frau, Kathe Kollwitz (1910)
Among the modern pieces, I liked the work of Kathe Kollwitz, Tod und Frau: Death and the Woman. The scene is dramatically beautiful and powerful. No doubt Kollwitz's vital experience is reflected in the work. (She lost his son and grandson in the First and Second War World, respectively, and both were named Peter). However, when I contemplated it, I enjoyed envisioning the tragic fight between Life (Eros) and Death (Thanatos seems to be such a minor figure, a poor devil, no match for Him). And such a horrendous -but common to Humankind, ukiyo- struggle, is taking place in the field of a Woman... Nice, beautiful concept. The kid (Life, Eros) clings to her bosom; Death, from behind, grasps her lethally. The woman is all in anguish, alienated, but she is still standing... Like our world.
(LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
Apart from all Vanitas variations (a blunt term if coined from Ecclesiastes -it is quite humorous the wit of those who baptized a fashion magazine with this name), dances-of-death topics and all memento mori stuff, there are in the collection a few pieces from the Japanese, Buddhist and Far-East cultures that deserve attention in detail. The colorful portraits from K. Kyosai's Ukiyo-e, the tau-tau of the Toraja of South Sulawesi (Indonesia) and that funny, but avenging couple of skeletons from the Himalayan underworld are among my favorite.
Death seems to fascinate us age after age and, clearly, its contradiction and opposite association with Life, most of all. I like the ancient Orphic Myth of Creation, which plainly makes Eros the Maker of all. In the words of Robert Graves: "the black-winged Night, a goddess of whom even Zeus stands in awe, was courted by the wind and laid a silver egg in the womb of Darkness", from which Eros, double-sexed and golden-winged (other versions recall this latter feature as well), was hatched, "and set the Universe in motion".
Pushing its way against Night and Darkness (in other words: against Death), Eros "finds its way", as J. Goldblum, talking about dinosaurs in an impossible world, put it. The original association of Eros with Life and Motion (against Death and perennial Constancy) is branded in the myth, as Eros is born with four heads: that of a ram, a lion, a snake and a bull. Those are the heads of the beasts commonly associated to the four seasons: spring, summer, winter and New Year. The seasons of Life in these latitudes.
Life is Beauty, or at least, that is what we feel desirable and have always desired. Graves says that it was in the times of Praxiteles (4th century B.C.) when the poets had already "sentimentalized" the role of Eros and converted Him into a "beautiful youth". It is why, perhaps, I can only picture Eros in my mind as a woman, instead of a man, as culture has been overwhelmingly patriarchal and Beauty has always lay in the body, features and countenance of women. I guess that the theme of all the roses, although breathtakingly beautiful, inextricably withering away as the winter comes (like the beautiful Catherine Linton, as she maddens and burns inside for love chocked with pride) is a logical follow-up step in the poetic mind. Memento Mori... Of course. A curious incident is that, last Wednesday afternoon, when I visited the exhibition, a number of attendees were young and beautiful woman... They were to me as appendixes of the etchings and lithographs, something you could divert your eyes and expand your senses on, as extra scents and jewels from which enrich... I had a great time!
I wish to mention an arched horn of ivory with death figures carved on it, about 50-cm long. It came straight to my mind, I confess: "oh, this a phallus, what a massive penis". The tag on the wall mentioned nothing of the sort, though. However, I reckon it contains some meaning of the kind. In different versions, Eros was made the son of Aphrodite, but given three different, remarkable fathers, all of them related to eroticism or, even, sexual rapacity: Ares, the god of war, with all the increase in the warrior sexual's desires; Zeus, who was even father to Aphrodite, incestuously; and, finally, Hermes. The Boeotians worshiped Eros in the shrine of Thespiae in the form of a phallic pillar, "the pastoral Hermes or Priapus, under a different name", tells Graves... So, why not?
Tod und Frau, Kathe Kollwitz (1910)
Among the modern pieces, I liked the work of Kathe Kollwitz, Tod und Frau: Death and the Woman. The scene is dramatically beautiful and powerful. No doubt Kollwitz's vital experience is reflected in the work. (She lost his son and grandson in the First and Second War World, respectively, and both were named Peter). However, when I contemplated it, I enjoyed envisioning the tragic fight between Life (Eros) and Death (Thanatos seems to be such a minor figure, a poor devil, no match for Him). And such a horrendous -but common to Humankind, ukiyo- struggle, is taking place in the field of a Woman... Nice, beautiful concept. The kid (Life, Eros) clings to her bosom; Death, from behind, grasps her lethally. The woman is all in anguish, alienated, but she is still standing... Like our world.
(LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
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