The Tempest
Taeho Paik
26 June 2011
Giorgione: La Tempesta
The most curious thing about Giorgione's 'La Tempesta' is the direction of light. There is a glow emitting from a crack in the cloud on the right side of the far background, suggesting that the sun has gone there, yet the shadows on the buildings indicate that the source of light is on the left side. However this is typical during a storm. Whatever light there is comes from those few patches there are in the sky when the rest is covered by thick grey clouds. In this uncertain light there is a general feeling of dampness and blustery winds. It is a representation of nature at its most fecund and yet it also contains an almost childlike fascination with making illustrations of things. There is a pastelly quality in the colouring, quite amateurish in its naivety and yet so masterful in its command of the simple sensations of beauty.
It is also the painting that has the critics most confounded - about its meaning. It certainly fuels the imagination with a vast array of possible imterpretations - but then - that's what art is supposed to do. The poetics must be there.
Arguably the world's greatest ever poet, William Shakespeare, packed his plays with meaning. So much so that it's difficult to enjoy them without some effort. Since in a play, the words don't wait to be fully comprehended before moving on, one must concentrate on their immediate effect without pondering too much on their entire significance. This takes practice in hearing - an art form that is somewhat lost in an impatient generation. Scansion is not there just to be practised by the writer. The beat of the feet must also be found by the listener. And what about the art of seeing - this too is in decline as symbols have become abstract. And the art of speaking? Did you see how Kate Middleton mumbled her vows? O princess, do become one.
Shakespeare also dealt with the subject of the storm. If I am not wrong 'The Tempest' is his last play. This work too has the critics confounded - about its meaning. To these people he might have asked, "What if I know not that it's called a door but I still pass through it?" Prospero is a king in exile, abdicated in foul play by his brother but if we read this play straight, it makes little sense. In order to start enjoying it, we must enter into the world of mystical imaginings, of personifications of emotions and the symbolism in role-play. In the face of despair and the will to revenge, the magic proves benevolent and the occupants of the shipwreck are brought alive to terra ferma (symbolically the theatre). At this precarious instant, as time stands still, Miranda and Ferdinand fall passionately in love. Their beauty and their noble heritage are thus joined and civilisation can move forward. Further if we imagine Propero as Shakespeare himself, the play's most poignant moment is when Ariel, the gentle genie, is set free. Is this Shakepeare freeing himself of his artistic burden, that of his own genius? This is Prospero's epilogue:
Now my charms are o'thrown, And what strength I have's mine own. Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confined by you, Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardoned the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell. But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails Which was to please: Now I want Spirits to enforce ... art to enchant - And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev'd by prayer, Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults.... As you from crimes would pardoned be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Dare I imagine the young man in Giorgione's painting standing in front of the mother and child as the youthful Prospero holding the staff as a foreshadowing of his becoming a wizard? Is the rest of the picture an imagined view of this sensitive youth's urban idyll? It is certainly a gorgeous space that has been imagined. In a brooding mood of the fervent tempest, creation looms its magical produce, either to be destroyed or to live on, as such to revel later in the sun. In appreciating Giorgione and Shakespeare together, what elevated thoughts are not possible in the face of such sweet mastery in their art? As Miranda utters:
How many goodly creatures are there here? How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in it!
Giorgione: La Lezione di Canto
