The Dance of Life
Taeho Paik
May 19, 2003
Artistic Clarity
Given that we are always worrying about what’s good and what’s bad, what’s right and what’s wrong, the moralising element is in there early in art appreciation. This is as it should be, one supposes, since the best art is meant to provide a direct and honest experience. If art represents life and at the base the thing that mystifies us most is the incessant moral struggle within our own spirituality, then one could surmise that art and its appreciation, insomuch as this act is edifying, ought to help us unburden and assuage. However art in our times, obsessed as we are with prodigality, operates inside a profane order which prefers to study artifice rather than the depths of universal themes, and thus the subject matter of modern art is rather obtuse about the actual relationship between art itself, the human condition and the natural forces which allow life to flow as it does.
Moving back therefore to the past in search of greater clarity, there is something immeasurably satisfying in the works of Renaissance and Baroque art and I can only pin that satisfaction down to things that appeal to my own sensibilities but on further learning one starts to see that perhaps there are also “factual” reasons why this is so. Let’s read what my precious text-book on symbols and allegories noted about certain visual elements present in La Danza della Vita by Nicholas Poussin:
When I read the above notes for the first time I was quietly thrilled. It was the thrill of discovery. The descriptions were entirely objective and yet rather more than just add intellectual clarity, their reading made the work take on a grand dramatic dimension that was previously unnoticed. With the benefit of this guidance, I suddenly realised that there really were no riddles in representational art but there was, importantly, the necessary rigour required in learning its subtle visual language, firstly to help observe the details of the 'facts' or fatti (done things) being presented; hopefully then to interpret deeper, emotive meanings. The painting was already very appealing purely for its visual qualities but I began to understand that there might be certain immutable principles underscoring the work. After all doesn't it make sense to believe that what is good is necessarily true when presented naturally and therefore what is 'good' perforce appears to be 'right'? Obviously Poussin was a painter with a superb pictorial technique and this aspect can be appreciated for itself but it is the universality of his subject matter presented "factually", thus objectively, that engages the connective tissue between the eye and the mind in a compelling way.
Let me re-quote one of our HAR banner statements by Jean Seznec:
"Humanism is a stream into which flow all the waters of the past, mingling the most diverse forms and ideas, fusing Christian allegory with the ancient symbols of the barbarian religions."
The most comforting feature of Christianity is the belief that life is eternal in love. When seen in this context the painting itself is immensely lovable as an allegory of the act of believing, and for showing how that glowing comfort or benessere (well-being) that faith furnishes, might manifest itself in the human imagination. To paraphrase Seznec, Christian belief does not preclude the presence of myths and identification of pagan gods, especially in their relevance as symbols of human emotions. Christ himself taught with parables and classical myths certainly contain all the figurative potential as representations of both human character and universal morality.
Present in this work are many of the arts hidden from contemporary society; the art of perception, the art of memory and by extension the art of thinking. The thinking that lies behind this painting is of someone who sees things entirely in 'human' or 'natural' terms. He thinks of how the personification of events such as the change of seasons allows reality to take on a complex "living" dimension underneath the predictability. Through his vision, for example, one observes that natural phenomena may well have, 'human' attributes like 'moods', and if it's far-fetched, at least it's a nice thought. Look at how the robustness in the expressions of the two girls shown frontally suggest the feelings we identify with Spring and Summer. Guessing which character might represent which season, one can then establish the direction of the whirling movement. This may seem trivial but the right geometry, it seems to me, is critical to animating the action of the dance in one's imagination.
The painting also suggests something about the nature of Dance. A dance is a festive act, isn't it? I consider it best as an autumnal event where folks celebrate the harvest, the vendemmia (wine-making ritual) and other jolly occasions. We do it to the beat of music and as the painting shows, more often than not, enjoined to others. They are souls in movement engaged with time by means of the music. In this sense, Dance is really Time's perfect allegory. Time in his role as the musician is both master and servant. If he speeds up, the dance speeds up. If he stops the dance stops but we know that he will not. All the while the babies are playing with their toys. The hourglass is tipped and the sands of time flow. The bubbles are made then they burst. These would represent our perception of time, or perhaps its more illusory aspects. In the meantime, the music continues and the figure whom I believe to represent Winter is suddenly disconcerted as her hand slips from that of Spring. The hint that the only male dancer might be the season of Autumn is his headdress which alludes to the wine-god Bacchus.
If the fundamental task of the artist is to enlighten, not just one's mind but one's spirit, then Nicholas Poussin has, across the divide of these hundreds of years, done me great service. I would also like to thank Matilde Battistini for having compiled such a useful reference book. This little glimmer of understanding has also given me new hope because it confirms the permanence of artistic values; that poetry is what captures the fascination of reality, not technology. For me, the change of seasons will nevermore be just four separate events but four fabulous entities linked to each other in an unceasing rhythmic movement. That imagined dance will be as real to me as any choreography. I shall take greater interest in simple music played plainly and when I hear it I'll have visions of entire humanity stopping its toil, holding hands and dancing for a few moments. The power of art is immense when a 480 x 373 pixels image can suddenly transform into a theatre, when my imagination takes over and Apollo on his chariot disappears over the horizon leaving a glowing amber light. The night casts its gradual shadows. The dance of life would then rest, to sleep, perchance, as Shakespeare would have wished, to dream.
