About.......Contact.......Society.....................
Showing posts with label Reclaiming Beauty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reclaiming Beauty. Show all posts

Thursday, June 15, 2017

The Perfect Coordination: Urban Decay Takes on Decadent Art


Vice-loving AND Cruelty-Free, Urban Decay's new store in Ontario

A cosmetics store called Urban Decay opened up recently at the slickly renovated Square One mall. I walked in yesterday to see all the decay. I wasn't disappointed.

Urban Decay has teamed up with "artist" Jean-Michel Basquiat to make the perfect co-ordination of imagery and makeup. In our era of anti-beauty, which is now reaching a nefarious satanic state (and where else does deliberate embrace of ugliness take us), Jean-Michel Basquiat's legacy becomes the perfect "artistic" expression for contemporary fashion and "beauty."

Here is what Urban Decay says about the UD/J-MB link-up:
We’ve been fans of Basquiat’s art since before the early days of UD; so when his estate approached us about a collaboration based on his artwork, we couldn’t wait to start creating. From the colors and shade names to the packaging, EVERYTHING in this collection evolved from Basquiat’s art. Like Urban Decay, Basquiat was an outsider who challenged the status quo and used color in nontraditional ways. From his informal graffiti work and the way he mixed mediums and colors to the way he spoke out against social injustice

Urban Decay Jean-Michel Basquiat Tenant Eyeshadow Palette: $39
Shades included:
- Studio (pale pink matte)
- 1960 (bright pink matte)
- Neo (rich aubergine w/micro-shimmer)
- Les (charcoal-black matte-satin)
- Graffiti (deep metallic green)
- Exu (bright green shimmer)
- Boom (bright teal matte)
- Untitled (rich deep blue matte)
OK, the "untitled" is funny.


Jean-Michel Basquiat
Self-Portrait, 1982
Media: acrylic, crayon
Dimensions: 239 x 193 cm
Private Collection
© The Estate of Jean-Michel Basquia


Art critics dare not expose the emperor as having on no clothes because they would be exposed as having on no clothes either. So we get endless repetitive art-talk admiration for truly ugly horrors.

And it takes someone who has no stake in the postmodern art horrors either financially or intellectually to expose the nakedness of these. One such is a blogger, short-lived and anonymous (probably has a real job to protect, where he doesn't earn even a tiny percentage required to pay for these multi-million dollar doodles) whose post I've posted in full below.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't get it: Jean-Michel Basquiat
By: Daily soup
June 4, 2011
[make sure to read the comments]

I once dated this fine art major from the academy of art college. she was a bit introverted at times but tended to emerge from that shell with a bat outta hell fury when angered or passionate about an issue. So her and I are on the haight and we go into this poster shop. she stops and and asked me; do you know jean michel basquiat? asking me in a tone that seemed to indicate irrevocable damage to our relationship was at hand should I answer poorly. not wanting to be erroneously outed as a liar, I simply said no, I am not familiar with jean michel basquiat. surprised, she looked at me as if I had looked in the mirror and said: you know what? I hate you niggaz. In an ever so sexy low tone, she explained a short history of this painter and then she gentility grabbed my wrist and led me to a stack of posters.

I was expecting to see some undiscover 20th century new york answer to leonardo du vinci or vincent van gogh.Instead I get these.....





If star wars came out in Shakespeare's day, I would imagine this is what the darth vader of his day would look like.

AFTER MY EXPOSURE to these...umm...yeah...I asked her, oh wow! was he insane? At this point, my girl was clearly offended. she went on into a whole discussion about not "getting it" and how I shouldn't be in art school because I lack the vision to see beauty in the abstract and so forth and so on.

I retorted by asking her has she ever seen the paintings they found made from serial killers and mass murderers? well these would definitely fit in the lot for sure.This led to an intense yet low decibel trade off of passive aggressive quips.I swear even arguing with that girl was a strange venture down the rabbit hole.
A day later, I went back to that store alone and for almost 15 minutes (and after fighting off the strong compulsion to make the sign of the cross numerous times before those painting) I went from a strong silent and contemplative stone pillar stance to a loud and eruptive THIS SHIT IS GARBAGE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE DEAL WITH THIS OVERRATED SPLASH OF SHOCKING AND DISTURBING VOMIT OF QUASI ARTISTIC INSANITY WORTH ONLY THE CANVAS IT WAS PAINTED ON!?

Surprised by that flood of seldom used vernacular and vocabulary, I stopped myself. Then was asked to leave the store, NO SWEAT, I've BEEN KICKED OUT OF BETTER PLACES THAN THIS. I guess word got back to my girlfriend because she broke up with me that evening.

Look, I'm not ashamed of the fact that I could stand in an art gallery scratching in perplexity. Wondering what one sees in abstract expressionism. I'm not insecure about my uncultured and unrefined nature. I'm proud of my blue collar, sports bar self.

yes I do miss the GF from time to time, although we aren't talking, we do past each other and say hi. But I still get pretty peeved when I realize that our relationship came to an end over JMB. It couldn't be a micheal angelo?

I guess our relationship was less fine art and more chicken scratch.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

"Preserving This West" with Mozart




Lawrence Auster: Social and Cultural Commentator and Writer
View From the Right


Here is an email I sent to Larry Auster, while he was ill:
From Reclaiming Beauty
October 06, 2014
"Preserving this West"

Larry,

As someone who grew up in the West, yet who comes from a non-Western background, you have helped me so much in remaining calm and confident when all those around me were ready and happy to knock down this wonderful and beautiful civilization.

I now continue in preserving this West from these alien, destructive forces.

Here is a Mozart piano sonata, which I hope you will enjoy listening to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=4RZiaBlkodE#at=375

(If this doesn't open, you can listen to it here.)

K

[Note: the youtube page has been discontinued, but the Sonatas can be listened to here]

You could say that I am a Mozartphile
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Below is my February 2013 blog post somewhat explaining my coinage of the word Mozartphile (which probably should be Mozartophile):
I can never have enough praise for Mozart. You could say that I am a Mozartphile. I am forever surprised, astounded, delighted and intrigued by his music. Recently, I have been listening to Dvorak and Sibelius, and they surprise and astound, but they never really delight like Mozart.

The incredible thing about Mozart is how accessible he is, without losing any of his musical complexity. I think he does this by keeping his essential melody (often enchantingly beautiful) always within the listener's reach.

He bends and rotates the melody, without ever putting the fear into the listener that the melody would get lost in a myriad of incomprehensible notes. Each note, however distant and distinct from the original, makes perfect sense, and is as natural a progression as the air we breathe.

In other composers, I sometimes wonder why they went in the direction they went, or at some point, I get a little bored or distracted with their melodious experiments. But never with Mozart.

In fact, I get irritated when other (worldly) things distract me from Mozart's intricate meanders. But, he never leads us far from the origin, and never teases us too much, although he loves to tease. His music may have some jest and playfulness in it, but it is, down to the simple piano sonatas, very serious. Each note was chosen with a certain aim, and is as precious as the next.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here is my modest take on Mozart on his birthday in 2013, which somewhat explains my Mozartophilia:
I can never have enough praise for Mozart. You could say that I am a Mozartphile. I am forever surprised, astounded, delighted and intrigued by his music. Recently, I have been listening to Dvorak and Sibelius, and they surprise and astound, but they never really delight like Mozart.

The incredible thing about Mozart is how accessible he is, without losing any of his musical complexity. I think he does this by keeping his essential melody (often enchantingly beautiful) always within the listener's reach (more at the post).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several short posts on Mozart I've made over my years of blogging :
Mozart at 254 (2010)

Two Hundred and Fifty Years: January 27th, Mozart's Birthday (2006)

Mozart's Birthday (2013)

Vladimir Horowitz Plays Mozart; Who Does Bach Justice? /(2013)

Kenneth Clark's Civilization: Mozart's Symmetry (2013)

An Idiot Playing at Genius (2013)

Preserving this West (2014)

Mozart: Genius in Three Notes (2016)

Monday, May 29, 2017

Minimalist Art and the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial: Reclaming Our Monuments



Minimalist Art and the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial
Elaboration on the unpublished article
Article posted on Reclaiming Beauty Articles: June 7. 2011

War memorials are an integral part of civilizations and their histories. One just has to look at the resplendent and grandiose Arc de Triomphe standing tall, at the center of a star-shaped street structure in Paris, to see how it affects the city and the people around it. The more dignified Trafalgar Square holds its distinction with lions, fountains and Nelson on the pedestal, and its vast public esplanade.

War memorials have always been about honoring their dead. And it isn’t false honor, since the mere dedication of a sculpture or a square is indicative of some outstanding effort that was made, whether it be winning a battle, holding a front, or just staying the course for so long.

This is why the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is such a disappointment. History is slowly exposing the real costs and gains behind that war, including the ultimate winners and losers. And the balance lies more on the American side. Yet, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is all about expiation and loss.

on a college project for a funerary design when she submitted her winning entry,

There was fierce opposition to the memorial from the start, where statesmen, veterans and the general public demanded that a more heroic symbol be built. One of the most poignant outrages was that nowhere on the monument is the word Vietnam carved, as though the place never existed, and the soldiers fought a non-existent war.

This controversy precipitated the erection of another monument. Sculptor Frederick Hart, whose base-reliefs adorn the great Washington National Cathedral, constructed a three-man composition which he called The Three Soldiers, clearly Vietnam soldiers standing in their combat gear and rifles. Lin was displeased by this new addition, and demanded that it be placed as far away from her contribution as possible. And no flag to render her area like a golf course, she declared. A flagpole was nonetheless placed near the The Three Soldiers with the fitting inscription: “This flag represents the services rendered to our country by the veterans of the Vietnam War.”



What eventually happened was that the memorial garnered popularity as a focus for grief. Even Lin acknowledges her subtle coercion when she says: “I actually feel like I controlled it a little too much… I knew that one's first immediate reaction… could very well be that you were going to cry.” Her design was to create a repository for unappeasable mourning, and in the end, that is what became of the granite wall.

Lin continues in the art world with sporadic contributions as an abstract, minimalist sculptor, and architect of a few lackluster buildings. She was one of the jury for the 911 memorial competition, and a strong promoter for the design that won. Once again, the winning design was a commemoration to insatiable grief as symbolized by two 30-feet deep holes at the spots where the towers stood. The contending design was more serene and spiritual, evoking enveloping clouds and sparkling lights. It is still hard for Lin to leave the black wall of death. Her original idea describing the wall: “I had a general idea that I wanted to describe a journey...a journey that would make you experience death…” holds to this day.


Maya Lin's collaboration with fashion designer Phillip Lim, in 2016.
The event took place in a pier warehouse-e where Lin's mounds of dirt fit well with Lim's postmodern androgyny

“I needed a raw, large venue to create this work...the Pier was the first place we saw, and the scale and rawness of the space was perfect,” Ms. Lin told the Observer.
But, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, or the wall, as the case may be. More recent memorials are giving credence to their lost heroes. The Korean War Veterans Memorial, unveiled in 1995, is a triangular field of 19 stone soldiers with a clear dedication to the veterans. And the National World War II Memorial, which opened in 2004, also includes a wall with symbolic stars representing the fallen soldiers.

Frederick Hart, on meeting Lin, confidently told her, “My statue is going to improve your memorial.“ Time has already proven him correct. The collection of photographs at the veteran-ran The Wall USA website emphasizes the Three Soldiers statue more than the wall, and uses the granite wall many times as a backdrop to reflect this.

The original memorial celebrated its 25th anniversary this November, and it already looks quite different from its initial granite wall concept. Lin’s minimalist abstraction, which only succeeded in making the wall an empty repository for grief, is slowly being improved by more concrete and tangible elements. A Women’s Memorial was added, and a new plaque commemorating the veterans who died after the war lies near the Three Soldiers. There is not much to be proud about war, but there is pride and honor due to the soldiers who fight in them.


Iwo Jima Memorial, Arlington Virgina

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Homer Watson: Native Son


On the Grand River at Doon, c. 1880
Homer Watson, Canadian, 1855 - 1936
Oil on canvas
24 x 36 in
Purchased 1952
National Gallery of Canada (no. 5900)


Last year, I attended a panel discussion on the exhibition Beyond the Pines: Homer Watson and the Contemporary Canadian Landscape at the Art Gallery Mississauga. I had visited the exhibition numerous times, going through Watson's work one by one, to study his technique, his evolution as an artist, his views, his concerns, and his Canada.

The exhibition also displayed works by contemporary Canadian artists to bring this pine "narrative" to the fore. Some were reasonably good, but none reached the overall skill and beauty of Watson's paintings.

Watson's talent as a painter was recognized by a friend who initially advised him:
...to quit the nonsense of going in for art in a country like Canada. "Quit it and come into the office and become a businessman.”
Watson continues with the story:
...on nearing home [some weeks after he had submitted the painting [The Pioneer Mill] to the Canadian Academy exhibition] I saw this gentleman on the road in front of his establishment reading the Toronto Globe. Seeing me he advanced waving the paper and putting out his hand he exclaimed, “I take it all back. Go ahead and paint. Look here,” and there it was in flaming headlines in the Globe, “Country boy paints picture bought by Princess Louise.” So that was that...
Homer Watson was born in 1855 in Doon, Ontario (now Kitchener). He started to paint as a young child encouraged by his father and his aunt. He never received any formal art training, but acquired his skill and artistic sense through various artist mentors he sought as he developed his talent.

Watson was called "the Canadian Constable," and “the man who first saw Canada as Canada, rather than as dreamy blurred pastiches of European painting.” While he holds this noble acclamation, he has nonetheless been overshadowed by the more forceful Group of Seven artists.

The AGM’s exhibition showed us Watson’s southern Canadian landscapes, amidst its farms and homesteads, as civilized and vibrant, and as separate from America. He is the first nationalist Canadian painter, earlier even than the much touted Group of Seven painters.

But the exhibitors of Beyond the Pines had a subtle agenda, which was was to place Watson in the background of Canadian art as an artist who no longer represents contemporary Canada, and reflects only the past, colonial English heritage which they believe has little relevance in current Canadian art.

The much described regions of impenetrable wilderness and inhospitable glaciers is not the Canada that most Canadians know and live in, including Homer Watson and the Group of Seven. Their Canada of the late 19th and early 20th centuries was already a nation of defined European, and mostly British, communities with houses, gardens, farmland, and forests.

And that is the other narrative the AGM curators were presenting: the pre-colonial Canada of the aboriginal tribes.

The AGM’s website tells us:
First. New. Next.

The AGM provides platforms for exhibitions, collections and experimentation in contemporary culture with a recent focus on artists and cultural producers from Indigenous, newcomer and youth communities. Through a broad range of educational programs, artist projects and other forms of critical dialogue, the AGM seeks to transcend traditional disciplinary boundaries, foster community, and provide spaces where alternative modes of thought are supported and activated in tangible ways.
The one piece by Natives ("Native" being the commonly used word for Aboriginal) artists in Beyond the Pines is a film (later transferred to video) by Brian Jungen and Duane Linklater titled Modest Livelihood, who document their hunting expedition and challenge Canadian gun laws and restrictions.

Here is Canadian Firearms Act as it pertains to Native Canadians:
Under Canada's Firearms Act, everyone who possesses or acquires a firearm must have a firearms licence, and all restricted and prohibited firearms must be registered. While the Firearms Act applies to everyone in Canada, some provisions of the Act and of the Firearms Licences Regulations have been adapted for Aboriginal people who meet all three of the following criteria:
1.They must be a member of one of the Aboriginal Peoples of Canada (Indian, Inuit and Métis) or a beneficiary under a treaty referred to in section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982.
2. They must be a member of an Aboriginal community.
3. They must engage in the traditional hunting practices of their community.
These adaptations facilitate the licensing process for Aboriginal people under unique circumstances while maintaining all the safety requirements of the Firearms Act.
We are hard pressed to believe that Brian Jungen and Duane Linklater are indeed hunting for their livelihood, in this age when hunting has become a sport and food for nourishment is abundant. But Jungen’s and Linklater’s purpose is to show us that they have a right to this land as had their aboriginal ancestors, with which the AGM curators fully agree.

A group of eight contemporary Canadian artists were also part of this exhibition. None made any explicit references to Watson or his era, rather focussing on the exhibition's general themes of the natural and the spiritual. But it was Jennifer Carvalho and Reinhard Reitzenstein who combined these natural and spiritual worlds most skillfully in their pieces.

Carvalho’s fir are impenetrable and dense, as though mysterious and macabre forces are hiding behind them. In Unexpected Connections, her trees spiral skyward to a grey zenith, reminiscent of Emily Carr’s west coast giant pines (Carvalho studied in Vancouver’s Emily Carr University of Art and Design), but without the hopeful sky blue of Carr’s heaven-reaching trees.

Reitzenstein reduces his pine sculptures to tiny spikes atop sinewy vines. In Thrust, the vine-like pine, rather than pull us upwards as the title would suggest, drags us down into the underworld of fungi, and we are forced to contemplate the dark and amorphous fungal netherworld of a place without God, without art and without beauty.

Reitzenstein may have obtained his training and perspective from the sculptural traditions of western art, but he has neglected the often hidden but important forces of religion and God present in most of non-modern western art. He desires, and creates with, beauty without the spiritual source of his sculptural discipline.

The AGM catalogue for Beyond the Pines informs us:
Contemporary Canadian artists looking at landscape must also find a way to access the ‘truth’ of a subject that is not only strongly represented in our national artistic history, but one that is both deeply political and personal. Placing contemporary work by emerging and established artists alongside that of Watson illustrates the universality of the quest to appreciate and capture the landscape in which we live.
Beyond the Pines was an ambitious project attempting to unite several themes of Canadian art. This was partly responsible for its failure: trying to be everything to everyone, from European-influenced landscape painting, to spirit-influenced Canadian art, to Native Canadians' grievances, and with an open ended question about contemporary Canadian identity, in which, of course the non-Western immigrant, the antithesis of Homer Watson's world, looms large.

But the deliberate ideological direction the curators took produced a collection of work which was not convincing in presenting its original idea of "moving forward" from the Watson narrative to a more inclusive multicultural art. Astute observers would instead realize that there was an undeclared intention of slowly and subtly removing the legacies of Homer Watson and his artistic heritage from the fore of Canadian fine art tradition to replace it with the contemporary landscape.

We were not told what this contemporary landscape could be other than a mishmash of disparate ideas and a desire for diversity that has become a cultish, spiritual quest oblivious of its fallacies. Whose diversity are we to take on? Will the Indian artist conform to the criteria of Chinese art? Will both accept, objectively and without prejudice, the artistic superiority of Homer Watson’s paintings? Would either attend, with curiosity and interest, the exhibitions of each other’s representative artists? And perhaps to settle this confusion, in December 2016 about a year after the Watson project, the AGM undertook another ambitious mandate, and led two full-day workshops titled: Collections through the Prism of Diversity, [Day 1, and Day 2].

We were informed that through these workshops:
The AGM is engaging in a forward thinking acquisition plan reflecting the cultural diversity of the city, region, as well as the historical diversity of Canada. Public art galleries and art museums are committed to acquiring works of art from culturally diverse and Indigenous communities, however this often requires considering how their acquisition plans are aligned with their missions and mandates.
There is a carefully guarded piece of information that is missing in the public announcements by the AGM. The museum was just approved to receive $325,000 for the 2017 fiscal year by the City of Mississauga's Art and Cultural Grant Program. This is a continuation of the prior seven years of six-digit grant money, starting with $271,000 in 2011, $316,000 in 2012, and $365,000 for the years thereafter upto and including 2017. This is an investment of $2412 million over a seven year period. [Grants and funding reports by the City of Mississauga for the following years: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017,]

The other missing information was that if indeed there are enough high calibre non-Western artists (museum worthy) living in the Mississauga region who could benefit from such large grant and sponsorship monies.

The question begs to be answered with a no. If indeed there were such artists, then neither the exorbitant public money nor the earnestly planned workshops would have been necessary.

I say “earnest” a little tongue in cheek since for these cultural reformists, western art should not be (and cannot be) the criteria with which to judge multi-ethnic cultural participants. Each community member, each ethnic identity, each hyphenated Canadian, brings unique with him unique abilities and talents. He should be judged by those equality-based criteria rather than the elitist standards of western art.

And without those standards, there would be no Art Gallery of Mississauga and no exhibitions worthy of the public’s visits. And that is the conundrum in which these art and culture leaders find themselves, and the reason why they have to demand, fascistic fashion, that there be some way to allow such art and culture to enter the doors of the gallery.

These workshops had as their primary objective to attract the multicultural, non-Western, non-white, and Native population of Mississauga, a city which, from data from the 2011 census report was 53.74% non-white (described as "visible minority" by the census report). The non-white population can only have increased by the 2016 census, which is not yet available. Yet the 2011 census visible minority report is not reflected in the museum's attendance numbers, even when "ethnic" oriented programs were scheduled. Two billion dollars is a lot of money to invest in satisfying a community's cultural biases. Minority non-white cultures are not interested in attending museums even when the exhibitions represent their ethnic and cultural identities.

The bold, unique and truthful suggestions by these government-funded exploration committees would have been to propose that art galleries continue with their exhibition of western art and culture, partly to continue with the historical role of such arts organizations as purveyors of western art, and also, more importantly, to show the excellent treasures of western art, whether archival or historical like Homer Watson, or current and waiting to be discovered artists in our contemporary society who are true disciples of Canadian artists such as Homer Watson.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

...as complete an autobiography as I could find

I kept looking for as complete an autobiography as I could find, and realized that my presentation Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization (posted below) at the Power of Beauty Conference, is as close as one I will find. I decided to present my "Reclaiming Beauty" presentation with me as a focus. My intention was far from narcissistic.

In a subversive way, I was trying to show that few (if any) non-Westerners would unequivocally champion Western civilization. I personally know of none, and would have found such a person by now (I've been writing about this for close to ten years now).

My point in the lecture was to show my own personal battle in this nefarious, multicultural world where this white western culture is maligned, constantly and viciously. Westerners are always put in the corner and forced to apologize: "Yes we built this...but look what we did in ..." in so many demeaning ways. I was trying to show that there is no need to apologize. I got, and still get, flak from family members and other acquaintances for these positions. It is not so much that I am a traitor but I'm reporting a falsehood. Whites and the West are colonizers, exploiters, destroyers of cultures and countries. They are the cause of the world's malaise.

Think about the way ex-President Obama behaved: subtly superior, carefully maligning, always, and indignantly, against America however much he professes to be an American. In his "letter to the American People" as he left his second term he wrote:
That, after all, is the story of America  - a story of progress. However halting, however incomplete, however harshly challenged at each point on our journey - the story of America is a story of progress.
The "progress" is never complete. The past will never be expunged. The wound will forever be allowed to fester.

I wasn't gong to apologize for these truths, and no-one else should either.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Presentation at The Power of Beauty Conference, Saturday, October 25, 2014.]

This is one of the first photographs of me after my family and I left Ethiopia.


Champs de Mars, Paris. Six months after we arrived in France.

This picture was taken about a year before the terrible, and still damaging, “Ethiopian Revolution” when Emperor Haile Selassie was unceremoniously removed from his throne, and soon after, a vicious communist regime ran the country for almost two decades.

I am ten in this photograph. My brothers and I were in English-language French schools, since we knew no French having received our primary education in English.

We lived close to the Bastille, in the city-center. Ironically, this is the center where the French Revolution started. But, we were oblivious to these political turmoils. We had turmoils of our own: How to make sense of this new and bewildering country.

We often went to Champs de Mars, the park where the Eiffel Tower is located. We went there to walk in the garden, to ride the various carts and ponies, to eat some ice cream. Pistachio was my favorite.

From this photo, it is clear that I was still in some kind of shock over my new environment. I wonder what it was that had caught my attention? It looks like I was distracted from my quiet observations by yet another photo session, those photos which we would be sending around to show everyone we were dong fine in this new cty. Was it a little girl I was observing, perhaps one who could be a friend? People quarreling in that strange guttural language which I would soon learn to speak? A flower or plant I had never seen before? I don’t remember.

But this expression, and this curiosity, coupled with a deep desire to understand and make sense of my surroundings, has been my way of life ever since.

And Paris became my standard: For language, for food, for art, and for cities.

As I got used to the city, I became a devout museum-goer. Friends and families coming to visit us, would be told “Kidist can take you to the Louvre.”

I got to know Paris so well, and especially the older city-center, that I could get around through its small side-streets and alleyways. I would use the large boulevards for quick maneuvers to specific shops and locations and not for adventurous discoveries.

The juxtaposition of the small and intimate with the large that is so much part of Paris, became my standard for gauging a city. Wherever I went, I would look for the intimate and the grand. “This is how a city should be,” I thought.

It was in Paris that I got to love art, and Western art. Non-Western art was few and far between, and only occasionally would a visiting troupe of dancers or a theater ensemble come from an Asian or an African country. I don’t remember seeing any exhibition of African art. My informal education took took on Western orientation. And in my formal education, through my parents’ belief that it was better we learn English than French, and since my father’s UNESCO post paid for our primary and secondary education, my brothers and I were educated in British boarding schools, in the beautiful county of Kent.

By age eleven, I had acquired a Kodak Instamatic camera. Rather than take endless shots of family, pets (of which we had none anyway in our cramped Paris apartment, although I had two! dogs over my short life in Addis Abeba), or friends, I mostly used my films to take pictures of Paris: The Louvre, The Tuileries Gardens, the Seine, and here the Madeleine.


View from Eglise de la Madeleine [Photo By:KPA]

Here, even then, in my juvenile amateurship, I seemed to know something about perspective. The view is from the steps of the Eglise de la Madeleine, and looks all the way down to Place de la Concorde.

But Paris is a dictator. She tells us exactly what we should be looking at, and what we should be taking. Such a confident city! So sure of her beauty! That was when I began to form my ideas about beauty. I realized, or internalized the idea, that beauty takes time, that it has its standards, and that people love beauty. The same way that they love Paris.


Paris from our balcony [Photo By:KPA]

(I had a Parisian friend in Toronto, who just couldn’t bear to be apart from her beautiful city. She was too polite to say that she couldn't find Toronto beautiful, but she compared everything with Paris).

Fortunately, I was never like her. Firstly, because I had seen other beautiful places, however different they were from this enchanting Paris. My young school years were in England, in the lovely Kent valley, then in the port city of Dover, with the spectacular White Cliffs, and the volatile and at times dramatic English Channel.


Cliffs of Dover and the English Channel [Photo By:KPA]

I saw that there was beauty in other environments. That nature could be beautiful also, and leave us as enchanted as cities like Paris.

By about fifteen, while in Dover, I had graduated to a better camera, where I could focus, adjust the focal point and shutter speed. The cliffs deserved better! And I joined a photography group at school. My first “real” photograph, which I shot, processed and printed myself, is of the doorway of the school’s library. This was probably my first real attempt at making art.


Dover College Library [Photo By:KPA]

While taking this photograph, I deliberated whether the door should be closed or open, and decided on “half open.” The the next pressing issue was from which angle to take the shot: From the side, from the front, from afar, from nearby. I didn’t realize then that this was all about “composition.” Then finally once taken, the photograph had to be developed, and the decision became how I would print the picture. Should I darken the door? Should I crop the top? Is there enough contrast in the bricks?

It became clear to me that image making is a long process, with many points of deliberation. So the image being taken better be worth all that trouble!

While in England, although I never won an art prize, or even streamlined into the arts (I entered the sciences), I still participated in the school drama and music activities, all separate from the academics. I was in school choirs all through my high school years, and I won the music prize and received the complete Mozart’s piano sonatas, the musical notes, that is, not the records! I studied and performed at least one of them. And I received the poetry prize one year, and through the gift card I received, I chose a book on the impressionist painters which had so impressed me while I acquired my informal art education in Paris. I even won third place in a ballet competition, for which I received a tiny, but cherished book on the fundamentals of ballet.


Dover College School Choir

Then, following another of my parents’ idiosyncratic decisions, I went to America to continue my post-high school studies. I went first to a college in the mountains of the Susquehanna valley. There I was surrounded by nature, but different from the wild English waters. This time, it was undulating valleys and mountains, which became my focus on, and no longer the city (for now, at least). I became an expert bike rider, and would travel through the farms in the quiet country roads, surrounded by those mountains.


Bike ride through the Pennsylvania countryside


Susquehanna Valley [Photo By:KPA]


University of Connecticut, with the Nutritional Sciences building in the background

But then I discovered another city, New York City. I had various relatives who lived there, who like us had left Ethiopia during those years of turmoil, and I would stay with them during the holidays, since my parents still lived in France. Its size, and lack of the intimacies that Paris offered struck me at first.

But I loved the grand avenues, those infinite perspectives both horizontal and vertical, the friendly, energetic people, the largeness of everything, including the museums, which I proceeded to visit. This was another confident city, confident in its unique identity. Paris was never on the lips of New Yorkers. Who wants Paris when you’ve got New York?

And I saw the charms of this city. Despite its largeness, it is very much a city of neighborhoods, offering intimacy in its coffee houses, the side streets, uptown or downtown, east or west. There were neighborhoods, where each had its own character. Looking up at skyscrapers, I noticed the care and attention they got from their architects and designers, despite the chances that few people will look up to notice the details.


Details of skyscrapers [Photo By:KPA]


Balloons on Wall Street, 4th of July celebration [Photo By:KPA]


Riverside Drive [Photo By:KPA]

I began to understand that beauty, and beautiful objects, had to exist whether they were noticed or not, since they add to the overall dignity and aesthetics of their surroundings. People can feel beauty.


Northern Spirit: Toronto's Harbourfront [Photo By:KPA]

When I arrived in Toronto, during the vicious period of the Marxist government in Ethiopia, when my parents decided that we would never go back to Ethiopia, I abandoned my “formal” education and training of the sciences, and took on, finally, my formal study of the arts, first by enrolling in the film and photography program in Ryerson University, in Toronto, and then taking several years worth of drawing, painting classes at part-time, night courses, until I finally landed on textile design. But was well prepared for this, since all through my formal education of the sciences, I had been informally studying art: Taking courses in photography, dance, theater, and eventually painting and drawing.

But never graduated from my film/photography (BS) program, leaving when I had one year to go. Once again, I took the informal route for formal art studies. If I had enrolled in drawing or painting courses in a university, I would have left with little skill or capability, given the anti-art anti-technique mood that had started to permeate through colleges and universities for of "post-modern" rhetoric. Instead went to "night school." My night school teachers were adept artists, but the modern world of non-art had rejected them and their talents, leaving them to scrape along a in fiercely negative climate. One may say that this has always been the lot of artists, but I think that our era is especially vicious and destructive.

I thought I had finally landed in my field in textile design, and I thought I had nothing more to worry about, other than to learn this craft, and produce my creations.

But no. One of the biggest challenges I faced, and which I naively and bravely fought off, was people’s insistence, or assumptions, that I would do something “Ethiopian.” It was too long for me to explain that I had no real, physical or even emotional attachment to the country. But, that shouldn’t matter in Toronto, the epicenter of multiculturalism! Indian and Chinese students, who were born in Canada, spoke fluent, accent-less English, who were wearing the latest MTV costumes, were churning out their “Indian/Chinese/Vietnamese/etc.” heritage pieces, and gaining high praise.

Finally, as I had always done, I retreated into myself, left behind teachers' advice to “do something Ethiopian.” I set up a mini-studio in my mini-apartment and developed my grand ideas.

I produced works on the landmarks around me: the Allan Gardens Conservatory; the triangular shapes of the Toronto gables; the reeds alongside Lake Huron; small spring flowers; large lilac bushes. And finally, the national flower of Canada, the trillium.


Toronto Gables [Design By:KPA]


Allan Gardens Conservatory [Design By:KPA]


Lake Huron [Design By:KPA]


Lilac Bush [Design By:KPA]


Trillium and Queen Anne's Lace [Design By:KPA]

But it wasn’t just a matter of creating these pieces. I spent hours bent over design and drawing books to teach me how to reproduce these images through ink, pencil and paint, which the clever but clearly unskilled textile design teacher wasn’t able to do.

And it was while I was doing the Trillium piece that many things came together.

Art needs to be local. We need to “see” what we’re representing. That art needs to have an aesthetic dimension - it has to be beautiful. And that there is a spiritual dimension to art, not always, not aggressively, but still subtly and present.

I realized that modern artists were discarding these elements, and creating works that people couldn’t identify with. That their purpose was not to create works with beauty, rooted in reality and with a transcendent element, but to recreate their own godless transcendence, their own reality, and they were discarding beauty as something frivolous which distracted from their own serious messages, usually of doom and gloom. The less talented of them went on with post-modernism, which was a distorted assemblage of objects to produce their “ironic” commentary on the world around them.

And multicultural artists were throwing away the reality that surrounds us, in Canada, and were bring in their own reality for their far-away lands, imbued with a strange and alien aesthetics.

When I put these two together, multiculturalism and modernism/post-modernism, I realized what was at stake here was the art I know, which I have studied and participated in from a very young age ever since my fateful journey to that most beautiful city. It was Western art that was at stake, made vulnerable by these aggressive demands. “Hey, hey, Ho ho, Western Culture’s Gotta go.”

I didn't clearly articulate this then, but soon after, I started a blog called Camera Lucida working on the words “Chamber of Light” where (rather immodestly!) I thought I could shed some light on the world around me. And a few years later, after many postings, altercations with readers, and a maturity of my thoughts, I started my blog (about a year and a half ago) Reclaiming Beauty.

I started the blog on January 1, 2013 (a new blog for a new year), and on February 5, 2013 I wrote at Camera Lucida:
I have started a new project. It is bigger than a website.

I hope to reclaim beauty from the avant-garde, nihilistic environment that surrounds us. Rather than fight it, I thought I would start a site that would be study of beauty, a critique our our current beautiless, or anti-beauty, environment, as well as a place to give and receive practical guides and accounts on how to acquire and reclaim the beautiful. I hope to have a list of regular contributors to the site, who will eventually become a part of a bigger movement.
And on September 29, 2013, I posted at my Reclaiming Beauty blog my proposal for a book, but with a bigger vision of starting a Beauty Movement:
My book Reclaiming Beauty aims to document the contribution that beauty has made toward our Western civilization, from the earliest records of God’s love of beauty, to a young child who sees beauty almost as soon as he is born. Our civilization thrived, prospered and matured because of beauty. Our great artists, architects, writers, philosophers and scientists have always referred to beauty with awe and wonder. It is in the modern era that beauty began to be undermined and eventually neglected by artists and other intellectual leaders.

Reclaiming Beauty will show that the abandonment of beauty leads to the death of culture, and eventually society. Modern man’s neglect of beauty has initiated the cult of ugliness, leaving us with bleakness and nihilism.

But, people want beauty. And they will surround themselves with some kind of aesthetic quality. Still, beauty is the business of the knowledgeable. The man on the street may be able to recognize beauty, but he would not be able to explain why it is beautiful. That is the task of the experts.

With Reclaiming Beauty, I aim to present my ideas, observations and analyses on beauty, and to provide a guide for recommendations on how to remove oneself from the nefarious influences of our beauty-rejecting world. This way, we can build a parallel world which will eventually form a growing movement of beauty-reclaiming individuals, who can start to shape a world where beauty is not minimized and rejected.

Reclaiming Beauty will be the first book on beauty to make a comprehensive, historical, cultural and societal review of beauty. It will describe the moment (or moments) when beauty was not only undermined, but eventually abandoned, as a paradigm of civilized life. Rather than attributing beauty to a Godly goodness, philosophers, writers and artists began to view beauty as their enemy, and as their nemesis. They saw God as a judge who would not let them do as they wished. In order to pursue the image of beauty they desired, they began to look elsewhere. They began to abandon God, and by abandoning God, they began to change their world, filling it with horror and ugliness.

I maintain that this was not their objective, which was merely to look for a different perspective on aesthetics. This realization may have come too late, and too weakly, from the cultural leaders, but ordinary people, who are most affected by these changes in worldview, are already incurring changes. But they cannot make useful inferences, and hence necessary changes. They still need an elite to help them materialize their desires and observations.

A new elite that is pro-beauty needs to take the cultural reins, to guide and return our world back to its awe and wonder of beauty. To this end, Reclaiming Beauty will add an element which no other book on beauty has attempted: guidelines on how to renounce this world of anti-beauty, and how to progressively bring beauty back into our culture.

The book will be a manifesto for concrete references to these basic ideas. Along with the book, a website will be developed that will be an interactive continuation of the book. On the website, members can post their original articles, shorter commentaries, articles and excerpts from other authors, and encourage feedback and comments from other members. At some point, this group can develop into a more formal society, which can meet in a physical locations a few times a year, building beauty societies, whose purpose would be to develop ideas and strategies for bringing beauty back into our culture.

Part of the book will revised versions of what I've been developing over a number of years in my blog posts at Camera Lucida, Reclaiming Beauty and Our Changing Landscape, and from my full-length articles from Kidist P. Asrat Articles.

All images that head the chapters will be from my own collection of photographs and designs. Some of these images can be found at Kidist P. Asrat Photographs and Well-Patterned. Others I will choose from my collection of photographs, mostly in negatives and prints. Others I will take as the project progresses.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge some people who have helped me define, and refine, my ideas:

Larry Auster
Writer at the blog:
-View from the Right
Author of:
-The Path to National Suicide: An Essay on Immigration and Multiculturalism
-Huddled Cliches: Exposing the Fraudulent Arguments That Have Opened America’s Borders to the World
-Erasing America: The Politics of the Borderless Nation

James Kalb
Writer at the blog:
-Turnabout: Thoughts in and out of Season
Author of:
-The Tyranny of Liberalism
-Against Inclusiveness

Laura Wood
Writer at the blog:
-The Thinking Housewife

Judith Hakimian

And for the organizers here at Steubenville, who made my trip possible.


Cloisters, New York [Photo By: KPA]

Monday, January 23, 2017

"Why Do They Hate Us?"



National Policy Institute director Richard Spencer speaks at the 2015 American Renaissance conference about political persecution he faced in Budapest, Hungary, and Whitefish, Montana. He traces anti-white attitudes to deep-seated feelings of guilt and shame. “Whites,” he says, “have a special capacity to become their own worst enemy, a unique ability to inflict guilt on themselves.”

[Transcript]

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Grammar and Civilization

“The decline and fall of a civilization is barely noticed by most of its citizens." Captain James Cook

After I posted my article early this morning: Moving Forward in Multi-Culti Mississauga where I write: "Fascinating, the language of the modern liberal era" I found the article How Can Studying Grammar Save Our Culture? at The Imaginative Conservative.

I've posted the full article How Can Studying Grammar Save Our Culture? below:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How Can Studying Grammar Save Our Culture?
By Thaddeus Kozinski

There is tremendous need for conscious and vigorous action to shape and reshape our behavior in accordance with virtue, the common good, and God’s Law. What could studying grammar have to do with saving our culture..?

In his 1946 essay, “Politics and the English Language,” George Orwell sounds an almost despairing note:
Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it…. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes.
In his 2016 essay, “Exercises in Unreality,” Anthony Esolen echoes Orwell:
The writing of most students is irreparable in the way that aphasia is…. The students make grammatical errors for which there are no names. Their experience of the written language has been formed by junk fiction in school, text messages, blog posts, blather on the airwaves, and the bureaucratic sludge that they are taught for ‘formal’ writing, and that George Orwell identified and skewered seventy years ago. The best of them are bad writers of English; the others write no language known to man.

Certainly between 1946 and 2016, the English language has suffered, and most college students do not know even basic grammar. But is it true that “we cannot by conscious action do anything about it?” Or is language truly “an instrument which we shape for our own purposes?”

Wyoming Catholic College has been consciously acting to shape our rapidly degenerating discourse for almost a decade now by a sequence of courses called the Trivium, Latin for the “three ways” of grammar, logic, and rhetoric. In the words of the great trivium Master, Sister Miriam Joseph: “Grammar prescribes how to combine words so as to form sentences correctly. Logic prescribes how to combine concepts into judgments and judgments into syllogisms and chains of reasoning so as to achieve truth. Rhetoric prescribes how to combine sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into a whole composition having unity, coherence, and the desired emphasis, as well as clarity, force, and beauty.”

We have heard much about the moral, political, and spiritual corruption of American culture, and certainly there is tremendous need for conscious and vigorous action to shape and reshape our behavior in accordance with virtue, the common good, and God’s Law. What could studying grammar have to do with saving our culture? Well, we are told in John’s Gospel that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Does this passage indicate an intimate connection between language and God, and thus between our words and our spiritual health? As Orwell argued at the end of World War II, the ubiquitous corruption of language in the West was not simply an effect of moral and political corruption, but was, in a profound sense, a cause of it.

In the twelfth century, John of Salisbury wrote that “Those to whom the Trivium has disclosed the significance of all words…do not need the help of a teacher in order to understand the meaning of books and to find the solutions to questions.” What is this “significance”? Literally, words are signs of reality. But perhaps what Salisbury means to convey is that things themselves, though quite real, are also, and ultimately, multiple signs of Reality. For, is not the created universe an imitation of the uncreated Divine Simplicity of the Father in and through the Son, the eternal Word, the Logos?

Why does Salisbury claim that graduates of the trivium no longer need a human teacher? Of course, humility dictates always sitting at the feet of the wise, but perhaps the profound grasp of and adept use of words that a trivium education provides will enable one to complete anything essential to one’s learning on his own, remaining, of course, until death and after, at the feet of the Incarnate Word.

In our day, when Great Books lie unopened and clicking through ephemera on screens is all but compulsory, when heartfelt questions about existence, God, and the meaning of life are supplanted by the banal curiosities of celebrity romance, money-making schemes, and therapeutic elixirs, we desperately need leaders with a command of logos, who think clearly, rigorously, and creatively, and who write and speak forcefully and elegantly. A Wyoming Catholic College trivium education results in apprentices of the teacher, the Logos, who alone has the words of everlasting life, full of spirit and truth.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Books on the topic of this essay may be found in The Imaginative Conservative Bookstore. Republished with gracious permission from Wyoming Catholic College’s Weekly Bulletin (September 2016).

Mozart: Genius in Three Notes



How Mozart Summed Up the Universe in Three Notes

The link above is to a discussion on Mozart's genius by classical musician, composer, conductor, and music commentator Robert Kapilow.

Here are my modest takes on Mozart:

I will start with a quote from my 2013 post on his birthday:
I can never have enough praise for Mozart. You could say that I am a Mozartphile. I am forever surprised, astounded, delighted and intrigued by his music. Recently, I have been listening to Dvorak and Sibelius, and they surprise and astound, but they never really delight like Mozart.

The incredible thing about Mozart is how accessible he is, without losing any of his musical complexity. I think he does this by keeping his essential melody (often enchantingly beautiful) always within the listener's reach (more at the post).
Several short posts I've made over the years of blogging:

Preserving this West

Two Hundred and Fifty Years: January 27th, Mozart's Birthday (2006)

Mozart's Birthday (2013)

Vladimir Horowitz Plays Mozart; Who Does Bach Justice?

Kenneth Clark's Civilization: Mozart's Symmetry

An Idiot Playing at Genius

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Reclaiming Beauty

I'm in the process of finding information about me (!) on the internet. No, it isn't some narcissistic activity. There is a purpose to this...

Here is what I found from the erudite, calmly informative (I could learn from that!) Tiberge at Gallia Watch, who kindly introduced my new blog when I started it back in 2013.

I have met Tiberge three times since, where we spent time together in lovely Philadelphia, chatting about blogs, Larry Auster, Laura Wood, beauty, France, and any other topic that took our fancy.

If you are responsive to aesthetics, to beauty, beauty of everything - art, music, architecture, human faces, human shapes, fashion, flowers, manners, voices, and if you feel that today's vulgar and narcissistic counter-culture has arrogantly abandoned the individuality, the inner questioning that are essential for beauty, in favor of insolent, indolent conformity, a conformity that tries to pass itself off as "original" or "creative" or "personal", when in fact it is parasitic, imitative, and repellent - worse, it is deliberately repellent, then you experience, as I do, a vague feeling of nausea in this repellent age we're living in. When a young man, who might have been good-looking in another era, makes your sandwich while you watch in disgust, his arms covered with tattoos, rhinestone earrings clamped on his ears, baggy pants slipping down almost to his thighs; when your waitress, who could be pretty if she valued prettiness, arrives squeezed into a mini skirt, her ears studded with nails, not to mention her nose, and her head shaven to boot, to take your order (as if one could eat after being served by such a creature), then you know you are living in the Age of Repellence. When you are forced to listen to the sounds of someone else's pygmy culture, diligently and diabolically piped through the loud speakers of every store, every coffee shop, every restaurant, every waiting room, everywhere, with no recourse to complain, no power to oppose the shrieking pygmies that rule over us and destroy our peace, then you just stay home.

Remember when a coffee shop conjured up visions of a comfortable chat with friends or a chance to read a good book over a good cup of espresso? Not any more. Starbuck's is torture. Every shop is torture. The sights and sounds are vomitous, repellent, deliberately repellent.

Of course I am speaking of an urban area that is run by "minorities" and elitist leftists. You may see a better side of things where you are.

Kidist Paulos Asrat is the administrator of Reclaiming Beauty, where she analyzes and criticizes the anti-beauty agenda of today's young, (mostly) white women. Of course she denounces the obvious outrages of the type I described above, but she also compares the influential styles of the past with those of today. In a recent post she compared Vogue magazine of the 50's with recent issues. And even more recently she discussed the unfortunate changes made to certain great French perfumes, such as Guerlain's La Petite Robe Noire (The Little Black Dress).

Her insights and opinions won the approval of the late Lawrence Auster who often posted her comments. Recently, Toronto-based Kidist made a trip to New York, with a detour to Springfield, Pennsylvania to visit Lawrence's grave site, where she took several photos. Those of you who followed his blog and his painful last weeks, may find this post of interest.

She is also a great admirer of the New York Public Library, a structure that leaves one breathless, a testimony to the intelligence, taste and vision that prevailed in more civilized times in the United States. And of The Cloisters, in upper Manhattan, a place of rare beauty, another stunning testimony to the American drive for excellence and to the generosity and erudition of men, such as John D. Rockefeller, Jr., often despised for their wealth, yet they poured their money and knowledge into the reconstruction of an extraordinary medieval-style complex of buildings housing priceless treasures, including the Unicorn Tapestries. They did this out of love for art and a desire to educate and elevate the public's understanding. The Cloisters is a branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Read more about her Ethiopian origins here, where she provides several links to Lawrence Auster's VFR. I should add that she is fluent in French having studied French in England. (Click her resumé at the top right of her homepage.)

Kidist and I met once, at Lawrence Auster's December dinner in 2011, but we did not really have a chance to speak. I'm very sorry I missed her when she came to Springfield a couple of weeks ago, but she was here and gone so quickly, before I even knew. So hopefully next time…

Top, the "blue hour" in Paris, between day and night. Borrowed from her website.

Below, from the Unicorn Tapestries at The Cloisters.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Orthospherian Re-Welcome, the Austerian School, and a Website Meant to be Read


Jonah and the Whale
Image from the Touchstone 2017 Calendar


The writers and commentators at The Orthosphere have been giving us their unique and important views on the state of the world for a few years now. I have occasionally commented on their posts and they have a link to Reclaiming Beauty on their website.

I recently commented on their post: The Ultimate Target of Diversity In the latest issue of Touchstone, SM Hutchens identifies the ultimate target of the Social Justice Warriors

My comment was in response to Bruce's thoughts:
Bruce:
Hutchens is terrific (he was kind enough to correspond with me many years ago about an article he wrote on theology). Even so I don’t think your conclusion is correct. They hate us because in the current narrative we “victimized” them.
KPA:
Yes, of course, it is the “humiliation” of the “colonized.” The colonizer is evil. He showed them their weakness, and dared to find the solution by his way, his method, his culture his (the) civilization. It isn’t just the regular victimized (oppressed) who hate the White Man, it is everyone who isn’t white.These days, the Chinese – mainland and “westernized,” who one would have thought would be allies of this White Man – are viciously attacking this white man because he has shown them that he is better than them.

Hutchens has beautifully, and with great insight, shown us the link between spirituality (Christianity) and hatred of any who follow or attempt to follow perfection through Jesus’ perfection. A perfect housewife is hated. Rather a woman leave her home and lives as a masculine in a masculine world. A perfect artist is hated (look at the abomination of perfection in art these days where artists have finally shown clearly that they are following the devil’s direction). A perfect man is hated where young boys and men are being pulled into homosexuality or effeminate ways and made to hate this man. And so on.

Our enemies have now been emboldened into telling us that truth that our battle is a spiritual one. That is because they appear to be winning. But who is more conceited than the devil? Of course it is still, and always, God’s world.
And a little further down.
Thomas F. Bertonneau:
Let me be the first to welcome Kidist to our conversation.

P.S. – Kidist is a kind of “neighbor” of mine, being a Torontonian, sight of whom the curvature of the Earth only just prevents an Oswegonian from seeing directly. But I sense her like-mindedness from across the lake…
Kristor:
And let me be the second. It’s good to have you here, Kidist.
Kidist Paulos Asrat:
Thank you, dear friends for your kind (re)welcome. I am still very active (whether online or off) as a champion of western civilization and “beauty” and just received a new role – promoter of the Austerian View [KPA - actually Kristor said The Auterian School] – as Kristor said in an email regarding my comment registration. What an honorable title!

Please visit my new website where I’ve now added “The Society for the Reclamation of Western Beauty.” It is still a work in progress but I hope to make it bigger than web musings, and into a full-fledged revolution!

http://societyforreclaimingwesternbeauty.blogspot.ca/p/a-beauty-movement.html
As I said to another friend in an email that I had originally re-named my website's address to make it less accessible on the web. But this is a website which I had always intended to be read by the public.

And there is always the "Society" which can hold closed discussions, where we can plan our revolution!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Prepare the Way, and Be Ready


In the Algonquin where the Round Table met
[Image Source]

I sent the following email to my "roundtable" friends in New York:
Dear Friends,

While wishing you Bon Apetit, I send you my posting "The Existential Crossroad" at my blog Reclaiming Beauty which I think relates to Jim's analogy of liberalism bursting its bubble.

I think we are already seeing the cracks, or the bubble hitting some brick wall, or nail, to continue with the analogy.

My business is in observing visual cues. I found both Obama's and Hillary's expressions revelatory these few days, where I say:
"I listened to Obama's and Clinton's various speeches and interviews these past few weeks, and one thing that struck me was how tired they looked."
I think Clinton and Obama, the world leaders of liberalism, are exhausted. I don't know why that is explicitly, but existentially, I think they are tired of the lies and the failed promises that they presented to Americans as expedient paths for establishing their ideological changes. Whatever they say is now such a stretch from the truth that this burden, or this conflict, is showing in their very bodies.

Netanyahu, on the other hand, started with the humility of a sincere person. He put himself, and his political life, on the line by coming to the US to literally beg Americans to stop the devil's pact with Iran. Yet look at him as he presents his position, which I describe as "forceful, strong and convinced." And finally, he won at the Israeli elections, despite the odds.

I don't know how much of a bubble this is bursting, but I think, in unexpected ways, the truth is beginning to come out of the cracks, and liberalism's promises are showing up as the failures they are.

But I take this a step further and write that this is more than political, but existential:
...we are now at an existential crossroad. Obama's and Clinton's inner conflict, their deal with the Devil, can be seen in the way they present themselves (or the Devil projects himself in them), Netanyahu's visit to America, his subsequent win, against all odds, at the Israeli elections, are the signs we should be paying attention to. We are faced with the consequences otherwise.
So it is not enough to merely observe. We have to react, and act, as well. I think that is where our "round table" can garner its force and strength, and its ideas. The challenge is to prepare the way, and to be ready for the burst.

Kidist
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Posted By: Kidist P. Asrat

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

The contradiction (hypocrisy?) of a Socialist Atheist Demanding the Subsidy of a Place of Worship to Maintain its Artistic Merit

I received the following article from a correspondent, who suggested that I might wish to discuss it.

The text is an English translation of a paper by the French writer Marcel Proust, written in 1904, and titled The Death of the Cathedral.

I have analyzed sections of the text below.

I should add that this I am suited to discuss this text, not only because I do write about the loss of culture, in my thesis Reclaiming Beauty, but I have closely studied a cathedral here in Toronto, which I eventually abandoned visiting because what it had become was just too painful to witness.

I went to this cathedral, St. James Cathedral, only a few days ago, with my camera, to see how "far gone" it was, and it still stands, nor does it have a "soon to be demolished" sign by it, nor is there any mosque nearby.

But, its degeneration is more subtle. It is standing, but what is is it being used for?

The most telling sign was this big, turquoise "Welcome" banner, draping the full vertical of the cathedral.

Welcome to whom? I doubt it is a welcome to new parish members, or to those who decided to return, or for those visiting on the occasional Sunday.

I think it is a "welcome" to all those who want to enter this culturally and "spiritually" open establishment, to stand and basque in the great quietness of it all. Our God, I don't think, comes into the picture at all.

There are still Sunday services, a standing choir with a first class repertoire, clergy who give sermons quoting from the Bible? But on what, about what?

I left, having been a regular Sunday goer (I went to the evening services), since the message I heard was so un-Biblical, that even the beauty of the place could no longer keep me there.

Here, in 2011 is where I write of one of the last times I went there, and when I started to seriously consider no longer attending the services and how I decided not to attend any more, in 2011:
Some dioceses from the Anglican Church of Canada have joined the recently formed Anglican Church of North America, protesting the loss of traditionalism in the original church, including its stance on homosexual marriage and the ordination of homosexual priests.

St. James Cathedral is not part of that protest, and continues to maintain those non-Christian beliefs.
So, a beautiful building still stands, but it is so far gone from its original purpose, of worship, that even that memory is too painful to contemplate.

Better, I would say, start all over. Build another Saint James, and with careful, and repeated, requests that God bless it.

Below are the photographs of Saint James, I took yesterday. Below that is my discussion of the text The Death of the Cathedral.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE DEATH OF CATHEDRALS - and the Rites for which they were built
By Marcel Proust
Le Figaro
August 16, 1904


Saint James Cathedral, rising high in downtown Toronto


Welcome! in bright blue


Welcome close-up


Tiles at the entrance


Cross in a side chapel, St. George's Chapel
Formerly the east entrance to the Cathedral, this area was converted into
the present chapel by the Cawthra family in 1935
to commemorate the silver Jubilee of King George V.
The south window depicts members of the Royal Family
and representatives of the Empire. The window above the altar
depicts Christ the King reigning from the cross. [Source]


Stained glass of what looks like a falling dove


View from the entrance looking towards the alter


The organ pipes, above the entrance


Stained glass above the alter

[Photos By: KPA, 2015]

Below is discussion of the text Death of the Cathedral, by Marcel Proust. The full text, is here in English is here, here in French.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. Text:
Suppose for a moment that Catholicism had been dead for centuries, that the traditions of its worship had been lost. Only the unspeaking and forlorn cathedrals remain; they have become unintelligible yet remain admirable.

KPA: Admirable, as any grand object is admirable. Unintelligible because no-one uses them as they were designed to be used, and therefore we can no longer relate to their message, meaning, and signs.


2. Text: When the government underwrites this resurrection, [of the Cathedrals] it is more in the right than when it underwrites the performances in the theaters of Orange, of the Opéra-Comique, and of the Opéra, for Catholic ceremonies have an historical, social, artistic, and musical interest whose beauty alone surpasses all that any artist has ever dreamed, and which Wagner alone was ever able to come close to, in Parsifal—and that by imitation.

KPA: More to explain this below, but the argument is that French culture has more in relation than with its religious-artistic culture than with its secular artistic one.

3. Text: “Alas! How much more beautiful these feasts must have been when priests celebrated the liturgy not in order to give some idea of these ceremonies to an educated audience, but because they set the same faith in their efficacy as did the artists who sculpted the Last Judgment in the west porch tympanum or who painted the stained-glass lives of the saints in the apse. How much more deeply and truly expressive the entire work must have been when a whole people responded to the priest’s voice and fell to its knees as the bell rang at the elevation, not as cold and stylized extras in historical reconstructions, but because they too, like the priest, like the sculptor, believed. But alas, such things are as far from us as the pious enthusiasm of the Greeks at their theater performances, and our ‘reconstitutions’ cannot give a faithful idea of them.”

KPA: How beautiful these ceremonies must have been when done in true adherence to their purpose, even though they still retain that beauty from these historical origins.

4. Text: That is what one would say if the Catholic religion no longer existed and if scholars had been able to rediscover its rites...But the point is that it still does exist and has not changed, as it were, since the great century when the cathedrals were built. For us to imagine what a living and sublimely functioning thirteenth-century cathedral was like, we need not do with it as we do with the theater of Orange and turn it into a venue for exact yet frozen reconstitutions and retrospectives. All we need to do is to go into it at any hour of the day when a liturgical office is being celebrated. Here mimicry, psalmody, and chant are not entrusted to artists without “conviction.” It is the ministers of worship themselves who celebrate, not with an aesthetic outlook, but by faith—and thus all the more aesthetically.

KPA: Still, even with the distance of time and purpose, if one goes into a cathedral, and listen to the services conducted, one gets the true beauty of the place. It is the worship that makes the beauty, not the physical environment, the building, even in our alienated, areligious era.

5. Text: One could not hope for livelier and more sincere extras, since it is the faithful that take the trouble of unwittingly playing their role for us. One may say that thanks to the persistence of the same rites in the Catholic Church and also of Catholic belief in French hearts, cathedrals are not only the most beautiful monuments of our art, but also the only ones that still live their life fully and have remained true to the purpose for which they were built.

KPA: And it is the persistence of the few, innocent, faithful, who allow this beauty to continue, despite the threat from great men and institutions.

I think this shows the hope that faith, true faith, can possibly turn the tides.

6. Text: Now because of the French government’s break with Rome debates on Mr. Briand’s bill and its probable passing are imminent. Its provisions indicate that after five years churches may, and often will, be shut down; not only will the government no longer underwrite the celebration of ritual ceremonies in the churches, but will also be enabled to transform them into whatever it wishes: museums; conference centers, or casinos.

KPA: And now mosques. There is a current tide where abandoned churches and cathedrals are being converted into mosques, or rented out to Muslims who could use them for their own worship.

7. Text: Your clever zeal has often been effective; surely you will not let all the churches of France die in one fell swoop. Today there is not one socialist endowed with taste who doesn’t deplore the mutilations the Revolution visited upon our cathedrals: so many shattered statues and stained-glass windows! Well: better to ransack a church than to decommission it. As mutilated as a church may be, so long as the Mass is celebrated there, it retains at least some life. Once a church is decommissioned it dies, and though as an historical monument it may be protected from scandalous uses, it is no more than a museum.

KPA: Here the author is saying that a "decommissioned" church, or a church which is no longer used for its liturgy is worse than a mutilated church. A broken down church which conducts its services is better than a church which just stands as a bare building.

It is in these "decommissioned" churches where museums, theaters, condominiums and mosques become replacements.

8. Text: When the sacrifice of Christ’s flesh and blood, the sacrifice of the Mass, is no longer celebrated in our churches, they will have no life left in them. Catholic liturgy and the architecture and sculpture of our cathedrals form a whole, for they stem from the same symbolism.

9. Text: It is a matter of common knowledge that in the cathedrals there is no sculpture, however secondary it may seem, that does not have its own symbolic value. If the statue of Christ at the Western entrance of the cathedral of Amiens rests on a pedestal of roses, lilies, and vines, it is because Christ said: “I am the rose of Saron”; “I am the lily of the valley”; “I am the true vine”.

If the asp and the basilisk, the lion and the dragon and sculpted beneath His feet it is because of the verse in Ps 90: Inculcabis super aspidem et leonem. To his left, in a small relief, a man is represented dropping his sword at the sight of an animal while a bird continues to sing beside him. This is because “the coward hasn’t the courage of a thrush”: indeed the mission of this bas-relief is to symbolize cowardice, as opposed to courage, because it is set under the statue that is always (at least in earliest times) to the right of the statue of Christ, that is, under the statue of St. Peter, the Apostle of courage.


Historical Archive: Genoels-Elderen ivories.
Rheno-Mosan Insular Bavarian late 8th or early 9th century

[Christ trampling on the adder and the lion]


And so it goes for the thousands of statues that adorn the cathedral.

KPA: Psalm 90: Inculcatis super aspidem et leonem.
Psalm 91:13 Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder

God will give you strength to vanquish your enemies.

10. Text: Here is the interpretation of a daily ceremony: the Mass. You will see that it is no less symbolic.

The deep and sorrowful chant of the Introit opens the ceremony: it proclaims the expectation of the patriarchs and prophets. The clergy are in choir, the choir of the saints of the old Law who yearn for the coming of the Messias and do not see Him. Then the bishop enters and appears as the living image of Jesus Christ. His arrival symbolizes the Advent of the Lord that the nations await. On great feast days, seven torches are born before him to recall that, as the prophet says, the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost rest upon the head of the Son of God. He processes under a triumphant canopy whose four bearers may be likened to the four Evangelists. Two acolytes walk to this right and left and represent Moses and Elias, who appeared at Mount Tabor on either side of Christ. They teach that Jesus held the authority of the Law and of the Prophets.

KPA: The symbolism in music, sculpture, art and architecture to show through beauty to word of God.

11. Text: The very clothing the priest wears to the altar” and the objects used in worship amount to so many symbols, M. Male adds. “The chasuble, worn on top of the other garments, is charity, which is above all the commandments of the Law and is itself the supreme law. The stole, which the priest puts over his neck, is the light yoke of the Lord, and since it is written that every Christian must cherish this yoke, the priest kisses this yoke when he puts it on or takes it off. The bishop’s two-pointed miter symbolizes the knowledge he must have of each of the Testaments; two ribbons are attached to it to recall that Holy Scripture is to be interpreted both literally and spiritually. The bell is the voice of the preachers and the timber from which it hangs is a figure of the Cross. Its rope, woven from three twisted threads, points to the threefold understanding of scripture, which must be interpreted according to the threefold sense, i.e., historically, allegorically, and morally. When one takes the rope in hand to set the bell ringing, one symbolically expresses the fundamental truth that the knowledge of Scripture must lead to acts.”

KPA: The objects in the liturgy, the clothing, the ribbons, the interaction with these objects, all convey the symbolic, ritualistic significance of the church ceremony. And these objects are designed and constructed with aesthetics in mind.

12. Text: And in this way everything down to the least of the priest’s gestures, down the stole he wears, comes together to symbolize Him with the deep sentiment that gives life to the whole cathedral and which is, as M. Male puts it so well, the genius of the Middle Ages itself.

KPA: Not only the objects, but the gestures, and the interactions with these objects, are carefully and aesthetically conducted.

13. Text: Doubtless only those who have studied the religious art of the Middle Ages are able to analyze the beauty of such a spectacle fully. That alone would suffice for the State to have to see to its preservation.

KPA: I think this is the discussion that always centers around "are the experts the only ones to know....?" Experts are essential, but they have to be:
a. Experts, and not ideologues who may (will) direct the public in the wrong direction (e.g., feminists, etc.)
b. That they can properly translate the information so that it doesn't stay in some ivory tower of elites, and cannot influence the world around them.

14. Text: But let us hasten to add that the people who can read medieval symbolism fluently are not the only ones for whom the living cathedral, that is to say the sculpted, painted, singing cathedral is the greatest of spectacles, as one can feel music without knowing harmony.

KPA: Analyzing music without the emotional attachments, coldly and detachedly is good for a theoretical thesis, but even then, if the student of that piece of music has no attachment to it, he will relegate it to some file "for further reference" and remove its essential quality: that it be listened and enjoyed.

15. Text: I am well aware that Ruskin, when he was demonstrating what spiritual reasons explain the arrangement of chapels in cathedral apses, declared: “Never will you be able to delight in architectural forms unless you are in sympathy with the thinking from which they arose.”

KPA: Ruskin has already said more eloquently what I have demonstrated above.

But to add my take, I think this is a very important point, and it adds the importance of the human element in art. It is not only the form that "delights," but the purpose of the form. A beautifully shaped stone cannot delight as would a beautifully carved stone, which cannot delight as would a beautifully carved sculpture, which cannot delight as would a beautifully carved sculpture of Christ, or Mary, or one of the disciples.

It is evident even in mundane pieces. A brooch which is of pure abstract shape might delight for a while, but think of a finely crafted brooch of a leaf or a flower, or a heart.

And even better, a diamond which has all its symbolism of love and eternity, given as an engagement ring.

The context behind the work of art makes the work more valuable and meaningful, at least to the owner. And the "owner" becomes collectively a family, a culture, and then a nation.

16. Text:: Still, we all know the ignorant man, the simple dreamer, who walks into a cathedral without any effort at understanding yet is overwhelmed by his emotions and receives an impression which, though perhaps less precise, is certainly just as strong.

KPA: Here, the symbiotic and osmotic influence of a culture informs even the most illiterate of laymen, who understand intuitively the importance and significance of certain cultural symbols, and even more so symbols that represent their religious beliefs. The rich, the poor, the erudite and the less intellectually versed, everyone, can in common agreement say "This is mine." The religion and its symbols become keepsakes to protect, cherish, and use.

17. Text: As a literary witness to this state of mind, admittedly quite different to that of the learned person of whom we were speaking a moment ago and who walks in a cathedral “as in a forest of symbols who gaze on him with familiar glances,” yet which allows for a vague but powerful emotion in a cathedral during the liturgy, I shall quote Renan’s beautiful text The Double Prayer:
“One of the most beautiful religious spectacles one can still contemplate today (and which one may soon no longer be able to contemplate, if the House of Representatives passes the Briand bill) is that which the ancient cathedral of Quimper presents at dusk. Once darkness has filled the vast building’s side aisles, the faithful of both sexes gather in the nave and sing evensong in the Breton language with a simple and moving rhythm. The cathedral is lit only by two or three lamps. In the nave, the men are on one side, standing; on the other side, the kneeling women form a motionless sea of white headdresses. The two halves sing in alternation, and the phrase that one of the choirs begins is finished by the other. What they sing is quite beautiful. As I heard it, I felt that with a few changes it might be fitted to every state of humanity. Above all it made me dream of a prayer which, with a few variations, might suit men and women equally.”
KPA: Once again, it is the human emotion which is the conveyer of the meaning. Without feeling, there is no spirituality.

18. Text: There are many gradations between between this reverie, which is not without its charm, and the religious art “connoisseur’s” more conscious joys. Let us bear and keep in mind the case of Gustave Flaubert, who studied—albeit with a view to interpreting it within a modern outlook—one of the most beautiful parts of the Catholic liturgy:
“The priest dipped his thumb in the holy oil and began to anoint his eyes first . . . then his nostrils, so fond of warm breezes and of the scents of love, his hands that had found their delight in sweet caresses . . . lastly his feet, which had been so swift in running to satisfy his desires, and which now would walk no more.”
KPA: Proust then quotes another writer, Gustave Flaubert, describing the simple, symbolic and profoundly significant part of a ritual:

19. Text: There is therefore more than one way of dreaming before this artistic realization - the most complete ever, since all of the arts collaborated in it—of the greatest dream to which humanity ever rose; this mansion is grand enough for us all to find our place in.

KPA: Proust continues with his theme that the church is "grand enough," big enough, for everyone.

20. Text: The cathedral, which shelters so many saints, patriarchs, prophets, apostles, kings, confessors, and martyrs that whole generations huddle in supplication and anxiety all the way to the porch entrances and, trembling, raise the edifice as a long groan under heaven while the angels smilingly lean over from the top of the galleries which, in the evening’s blue and rose incense and the morning’s blinding gold do seem to be “heaven’s balconies” - the cathedral, in its vastness, can grant asylum both to the man of letters and to the man of faith, to the vague dreamer as well as to the archeologist.

KPA: The cathedral is a repository for the grand representatives of God, who can give respite to the most humble of his children. But the humble are seen also in their behavior, and not just in their materials.

21. Text: All that matters is that it remain alive...

KPA: And this is the condition, that it be a vibrant place.

22. Text: ...and that France should not find herself transformed overnight into a dried-up shore on which giant chiseled shells seem marooned, emptied of the life that once lived in them and no longer able even to give to an ear leaning in on them a distant rumor from long ago, mere museum pieces and icy museums themselves.

KPA: I can only repeat Proust's poetic words, the modern-day landscape where "giant chiseled shells seem marooned, emptied of the life that once lived in them...

23. Text: They wanted the church of Vézelay to be decommissioned. Such is the silliness that anticlericalism inspires. Decommissioning that basilica amounts to taking away what little soul it has left. Once the little lamp that shines deep in the sanctuary has been snuffed out, Vézelay will become no more than an archeological curiosity.

KPA: Vezelay has in fact now become a UNESCO World Heritage Centre. What Proust predicted has happened. Cathedrals are now simply museums, places of curiousity, where people go to gape at what once was.

24. Text: Things keep their beauty and their life only by continuously carrying out the task for which they were intended, even should they slowly die at it. Does anyone believe that, in museums of comparative sculpture, the plaster casts of the famous sculpted wooden choir stalls of the Cathedral of Amiens can give an idea of the stalls themselves in their august yet still functional antiquity?

KPA: A church, and a cathedral, still has more life than a museum, since at least its original function was not to store sacred objects, but to include them in the liturgy and ritual.

25. Text: Whereas a museum guard keeps us from getting too close to their plaster casts, the pricelessly precious stalls, which are so old, so illustrious, and so beautiful, continue to carry out their humble task in the cathedral of Amiens which they have been doing for centuries to the great satisfaction of the citizens of Amiens, just as those artists who, while having become famous, yet still keep up a small job or give lessons. This task consists in bearing bodies even before they instruct souls.

KPA And Proust compares cathedrals with those artists who still keep contact with the common man, despite having become famous. These cathedrals still have a place for the humble worshiper.

And the "task" of these stalls in these cathedrals is first to hold the bodies of the kneeling worshipers, so that they may receive instructions on their souls. All worshipers are equal, when kneeling before God.

26. Text: and that is what, folded down and showing their upper side, they humbly do during the offices. More than this: these stalls’ perpetually worn wood has slowly acquired, or rather let seep through, that dark purple that is so to speak its heart and which the eye that has once fallen prey to its charm prefers to everything else, to the point of being unable even to look at the colors of the paintings which, after this, seem rough and plain. Then one experiences something like ebriety as one savors, in the wood’s ever more blazing ardor, what is so to speak the tree’s sap overflowing in time. The naïf figures sculpted in it receive something like a twofold nature from the material in which they live. And generations have variously polished all of these Amiens-born fruits, flowers, leaves, and vegetation that the Amiens sculptor sculpted in Amiens wood, thus bringing out those wonderful contrasting tones in which the differently colored leaf stands out from the twig; this brings to mind the noble accents that Mr. Gallé has been able to draw out of the oak’s harmonious heart.

KPA: The beauty of these stalls, their carvings, their worn wood, is more precious to the worshiper, who kneels on them in prayer, than even the paintings on the catherdral's walls, since they hold him while he prays.

Mr. Gallé, I assume, is the sculptor.

27. Text: The cathedral, if Mr. Briand’s bill were passed, would not find itself closed and unable to provide the Mass and prayers just for the canons who perform the services in those stalls whose armrests, misericords, and banister tell of the Old and New Testaments, nor only for the people filling up the immense nave. We were just saying that nearly every image in a cathedral is a symbol. Yet some are not. Such are the painted or sculpted pictures of those who, having contributed their pennies to the decoration of the cathedral, wished to keep a place in it forever, so that they might silently follow the services and noiselessly participate in prayer from a niche’s balustrade or the recess of a stained glass window, in saecula saeculorum. we know that since the oxen of Laon had christianly drawn the construction materials for the cathedral up the hill from which it rises, the architect rewarded them by setting up their statues at the feet of the towers. You can see them to this day as, in the din of the bells and the pooling sunlight, they raise their horned heads above the colossal holy arch towards the horizon of the French plains—their “inner dream.” That was the best that could be done for beasts: for men, better was granted.

KPA: The cathedral is not just for the living, but for those who have contributed to have a space in the cathedral at their death, so that "they might silently follow the services and noiselessly participate in prayer."

Mr. Briand was a socialist politician, who briefly became Prime Minister of France, who worked towards the separation of Church and State. The Bill Proust is talking about is probably that which became law in 1905: Loi du 9 décembre 1905 concernant la séparation des Églises et de l'État.

28. Text: They went into the church. There they took their place, which would be theirs after death and from which, just as during their lifetime, they could go on following the divine sacrifice. In some cases, leaning out of their marble tomb, they turn their heads slightly to the Gospel or to the Epistle side and are able to glimpse and feel around them, as they can in Brou, the tight and tireless interlacing of crest flowers and initials; sometimes, as in Dijon, they keep even in their tombs the bright colors of life. In other cases, from the recess of a stained glass window, in their crimson, ultramarine, or azure cloaks that catch the sun and blaze up with it, they fill its transparent rays with color and suddenly let them loose, multicolored and aimlessly wandering in the nave, which they tinge with their wild and lazy splendor, with their palpable unreality. Thus they remain donors, who, for this very reason, have deserved perpetual prayers. And all of them want the Holy Ghost, when He will come down from the Church, really to recognize his own.

KPA: Such donors took their place in their lifetime, so that they may follow the cathedral during their death.

29. Text: It is not just the queen and the princes who wear their insignia, their crown, or their collar of the Golden fleece: money changers are portrayed proving the title of coins; furriers sell their furs (see [Emile] Male for reproductions of those windows); butchers slaughter cows; knights wear their coat of arms; sculptors cut capitals. Oh! all of you in your stained glass windows in Chartres, in Tours, in Bourges, in Sens, in Auxerre, in Troyes, in Clermont-Ferrand, in Toulouse, ye coopers, furriers, grocers, pilgrims, laborers, armorers, weavers, stonemasons, butchers, basket makers, cobblers, money changers, o ye, great silent democracy, ye faithful obstinately wanting to hear the office, who are not dematerialized but more beautiful than in your living days now in the glory of heaven and blood that is your precious glass: no longer will you hear the Mass you had guaranteed for yourselves by donating the best part of your pennies to building this church. As the profound saying goes, the dead no longer govern the living. And the forgetful living stop fulfilling the wishes of the dead.

KPA: Money-lenders, laborers, butchers and cobblers are equally present with queens and princes.

30. Text: But let the ruby coopers and the rose and silver basket makers inscribe the backdrop of their stained glass with the “silent protest” that Mr. Jaurès could so eloquently give us and which we beg him to bring to the ears of the representatives.

KPA: Mr. Jaurès was a socialist leader who spoke at one of the Dreyfus rallies, which Proust attended. The plea is to have Jaures speak as eloquently on behalf of the cathedrals as he did for the falsely accused Jewish Dreyfus.

31. Text: Leaving aside that innumerable and silent people, the ancestors of the electors for whom the House has such little concern, let us at last summarize:

KPA: And here are the recommendations Proust makes:

1. Text: First: safeguarding the most beautiful works of French architecture and sculpture, which will die on the day that they no longer serve the worship for which they were born, which is their function just as they are its organs, which explains them because it is their soul, makes it the government’s duty to demand that worship be offered in the cathedrals in perpetuity, while the Briand bill authorizes it to turn the cathedrals into whatever museums or conference halls (in the best of cases) it pleases after a few years, and even if the government does not undertake to do so, it authorizes the clergy (and, since it will no longer be subsidized, compels it) no longer to celebrate the offices in them if it finds the rent too high.

KPA: Proust's message is that if these places of worship are not used for worship, they "will die on the day that they no longer serve the worship for which they were born."

2. Text: Second: the preservation of the greatest historic yet living artistic production imaginable, for the reconstruction of which, if it did not already exist, no one would shrink from spending millions, namely the cathedral Mass, makes it the government’s duty to subsidize the Catholic Church for the upkeep of a worship that is far more relevant to the conservation of the noblest French art (to continue our strictly worldly perspective) than the conservatories, theaters, concert-halls, ancient tragedy reconstitutions at the theater of Orange, etc. etc., all of which enterprises have doubtful artistic aims and which keep up many weak works (how do Le Jour, L’Aventurière, or Le Gendre de M. Poirier stand up to the choir of Beauvais or the statues of Rheims?), whereas the masterpiece that is the medieval cathedral, with its thousands of painted or sculpted figures, its chants, its services, is the noblest of all the works to which the genius of France has ever risen.

KPA: But, like a true socialist atheist, Proust demands that the government subsidize these cathedrals as "the greatest historic yet living artistic production imaginable," relegating religion, and Christianity, to a work of art, but still superior to:

3. Text: ...the conservatories, theaters, concert-halls, ancient tragedy reconstitutions at the theater of Orange, etc. etc., all of which enterprises have doubtful artistic aims and which keep up many weak works (how do Le Jour, L’Aventurière, or Le Gendre de M. Poirier stand up to the choir of Beauvais or the statues of Rheims?), whereas the masterpiece that is the medieval cathedral, with its thousands of painted or sculpted figures, its chants, its services, is the noblest of all the works to which the genius of France has ever risen.

KPA: It is not enough that even if such a committed socialist declare the importance of cathedrals. His point is that their loss is a loss for artistic legacy, rather than religious presence. As Proust eloquently writes, without worship, the cathedral will be diminished, and eventually disappear. In fact, we are seeing this slowly and surely. Our cathedrals, and their more humble variations, our churches, are not simply transforming into "giant chiseled shells [which] seem marooned, emptied of the life that once lived in them..." but are becoming repositories for the biggest take-over of our century: their conversion into mosques.


St. James Cathedral, Toronto
View from the entrance looking towards the alter


Proust may have been prescient in his clarion call about the church, but he was deficient in his fight.

He was insufficiently religious. He was insufficiently Christian.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Photo By: KPA, 2015]

Posted By: Kidist P. Asrat