A Rubbish Point of View
Copyright Mark King
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Thursday, 5 April 2012
All Hail The Mona Lisa
Fig 1 Hooper C “Mona Lisa, Musee du Louvre” March 2012
For Cher Krause Knight Walt Disney
World, in Florida
is very much a place for contemporary forms of worship situated within what she
describes as a modern Westernized consumer culture. A similar site that could
be said to fit such a notion is the Musee
du Louvre, Paris, France. For pilgrims visiting
both sites a shared reverence is felt for both the architectural surroundings and
the objects within, objects that are held up as shrines in the modern age, secular
shrines. (Fig 2) Whilst the goals of
the pilgrims may vary, they also, as Knight posits, overlap as all seek some
form of entertainment and celebration.
Fig 2 King M “Musee
du Louvre, Paris” March 2012
As a pilgrim to Paris , France
Fig 3 Hooper C “Eurostar Lounge, St
Pancras Station, London
The ritualistic qualities that go
with these communitas are expressed in visiting such places as the Musee du Louvre and include what
scholars have identified as specific rules of conduct, something which Caroline
failed to adhere to in the Weiwei exhibition (Ref: You Smell Like A Monkey, and
You Look Like One Too) and scheduled activities.
As Knight posits, the notion of a
pilgrimage within the modern age has changed.
Ease of travel has helped pilgrimages become more curiosity-seeking
rather than devotional and as the authenticity of religious relics began to be
questioned the tradition of undergoing a religious pilgrimage began to lose its
authority. Devotion, it seems has been superseded by play, yet as Turner sets
out, the pilgrimage from its beginning was always a combination of both,
devotion and play. Pilgrims open to corruption and temptations were free from
the social constraints of their community. (Fig 3, 4 and 8) Visiting secular sites en route, pilgrims, as Knight sets
out would often get drunk, be gluttonous and engage in casual sex, as well as
be involved in other behaviours that were consider sinful. Play, for Knight,
especially when it is organized and made into routine is as ritualistically
charged as worship.
Fig 4 King M “Somewhere between London and Paris , Eurostar” March 2012
As with Walt Disney World
the Musee du Louvre is, I believe, a
place that can be considered sacred when placed in context of what Knight
describes as an increasingly secularized culture. The pilgrims visiting both
sites move through the respective spaces in what is considered a ritualistic
procession, consuming shrine-like structures. Also both spaces uphold what she defines
as cultural myths as well as displaying universally recognized figures. For
Disney the figure is Mickey Mouse, for the Musee
du Louvre I would posit Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” (c. 1503-1519) (Fig1)
Whilst Knight holds Cinderella’s Castle as the
spiritual and physical heart of Walt Disney World, I would cite the “Mona Lisa” as the Musee du Louvre’s. As Caroline and I entered the museum Caroline,
who had been to the Louvre before suggested we “get her out of the way”.
March 15th
2012
She sits there with her arms casually folded resting on the
arm of a chair smugly staring out from behind a pane of protective glass. Her
eyes seem to follow you wherever you stand. She’s the bomb and she knows it. (Fig
1)
More venerable than a Vermeer, van Eyck and the “Venus de
Milo”, (Fig 5) da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” is the one the pilgrims flock to see. Her importance seems to reign supreme. Her
gaze meets you from a distance as you stroll down the grandiose corridor lined
with immense and breath-taking works of art past the entrance to the chamber
she resides in. She stops you in your tracks and you walk back to the open
doorway of the room thinking, “there she is”.
Fig
5 King M “Venus de Milo, Musee du Louvre” March 2012
How does the “Mona Lisa” hold so much reverence over the rest
of the exhibits in the museum? Is it simply down to branding or is she actually
the most important and expensive object within this extravagant and opulent building?
Personally, she doesn’t do it for me but maybe that is because I have to stand
here as if I’m in a football match trying to see over everyone else’s head and
phone camera. (Fig 6) It’s like walking around a Banksy exhibition; everyone
wants to take a piece home with them condensed onto their mobile phone, in what
Knight describes as a souvenir that
functions as a sacred trace; advertising the site, highlighting completion of
the pilgrimage and providing physical proof of what I would consider to be a
contemporary deity. With everyone vying to take the best photograph they can
the pilgrims witness the magnificence that has been put onto the “Mona Lisa”
from back behind the rope, behind the wood, behind the glass. (Fig 7) The
power, the emotion of art doesn’t lie in a grabbed image through a telephone
screen but in what the Indian aesthetician Abhinavagupta
(950-1020 C.E) described as the transformative
experience it can convey. For me this experience does not transcend through the
“Mona Lisa” but was felt through the reduced light that fell on “The
Execution of Lady Jane Grey” (1833),
a painting by Paul Delaroche (1797-1856).
Fig 6 King M “Mona Lisa, Musee du Louvre” March 2012
If the “Mona Lisa” can be considered to be a modern day deity
could she also be considered to be an idol, what Perlmutter terms a postmodern
idol? Standing in her presence seems to convey such a notion? Although the
“Mona Lisa” is not an image of a god or goddess she does seem to be an object
that draws excessive admiration and even devotion. In the past she has also been
deemed an object of iconoclasm through acts of vandalism, hence her protective
shield of glass and space.
Fig 7 King M “View from the Mona Lisa, Musee du Louvre” March 2012
For Permutter, the notion
of an idol within scriptural language is defined as objects that are considered
to be false gods worshipped by so-called pagans. As she sets out,
etymologically, idolatry refers to the adoration of images and is defined
through the worship of imagery or idols and the power that they represent.
Could it be said that the power the “Mona
Lisa” represents is signified through the form of money? Is money the
contemporary form of power that aligns itself with idolatry and worship?
In modern Western society
what is considered sacred is not religious idolatry. That was subjugated
through the second commandment by the Judaic-Christian concept of idolatry.
“Thou shalt have no other gods before Me. Thou shalt not make unto thee a
graven image…Thou shalt not bow down unto them, nor serve them.” What is deemed
sacred changes throughout history; in the industrial age, science was
considered the new god, and as Perlmutter sets out, society then placed its
faith onto technological advances. As capitalism grew, Western society became
more preoccupied with commodities, property and money as a contemporary form of
idol worship.
In a postmodern age art
is seen as a reaction against the separation of individuals from their
community and against the formal aesthetics of modernism, as Perlmutter sets
out, in questioning “the meaning, purpose, and function of art in relation to
society, postmodern artists are attempting to reintegrate art into the life of
the community”. (Perlmutter and Koppman. 1999. p. 10) For Perlmutter, one
identifying characteristic of postmodernism is the questioning of art to a
society that is both capitalist and commodity-producing. Postmodern artists
such as Jeff Koons and Haim Steinbach are for Perlmutter creating works that
mock Westernized capitalist culture. The artworks made up of recently bought
consumer objects are referred to as “product art” and “object/commodity
sculpture” and are considered to be meaningless objects, ad absurdum.
Precisely because the “Mona Lisa” isn’t a depiction of a god or
goddess or any other religious icon that relates to any particular faith she is
able to transcend religious boundaries and so I feel can become an object that
relates to all pilgrims engaged in what Turner described as communitas.
Fig 8 King M “Eurostar Lounge, Paris” March 2012
For de Botton museums, like
universities fill the gap in our secular society left by the diminishing faith
of religion, giving us meaning without superstition. Visiting museums and
galleries has many associations with stepping into a church. Pilgrims flock to
see the architecture, its silence seduces us into contemplation, and the
wealthy donate in what de Botton relates to a cleansing of financial sins. We
also experience feelings that we may be communing with something bigger than
ourselves whilst simultaneously being separated from the profane. However, like
the teaching of culture in universities, museums also have some faults. As de
Botton posits they relinquish much of their potential in their handling of the
art that has been entrusted to them. We are exposed to art, art which is of
significant importance but museums appear to be powerless in adequately
relating these objects to our inner needs, our soul. Why is this art important,
why does art matter? Museums believe art should matter because it is important.
Such a tautological answer as de Botton highlights does not answer the
question.
It is because of such an answer that
we visit museums and galleries. What must we do when we are in such magnificent
surroundings as the Musee du Louvre? What
we should not do is treat the objects within religiously especially if that is
their origin. Pilgrims should in no way get on their knees before once-sacred
objects and pray, weep and beg for forgiveness, reassurance and guidance.
In denigrating sacred objects as dead
artifacts and subsequently condemning them to anthropological museums Perlmutter believes
that Western culture has reinforced the suppression of the spiritual in art by
deliberately secularizing religious objects from their cultural significance. Once an object
is placed in a museum or gallery for exhibition it then loses its spiritual
quality. The spiritual qualities of an object only exist if an individual or a
community pays homage to it, consecrates it or endows it. For Permutter Western
culture, albeit unconsciously continues to reinforce the dogma of the second
commandment in
perceiving other cultures statues as simple wood and stone.
Three days
after France’s severance
from the Catholic Church in 1792 the Palais
du Lourve became France’s
first national museum. The galleries of the Louvre quickly became filled with
objects looted from French Catholic churches and the monasteries and chapels of
Europe as a result of Napoleon’s campaigns.
In 1789 the Virgin and Child,
(c1324) a statuette was appropriated
or stolen from the Abbey of Saint-Denis. For over 400 hundred years people
had knelt in front of the virgin to draw strength from Mary’s compassion and her serenity.
However, as de Botton points out rather than pray to such a religious object
it’s caption and catalogue entry infer that pilgrims should understand what is
before them; the piece is the earliest dated French example of the translucent basse-taille enamelwork first developed
by Tuscan craftsmen in the late 13th century, it is made of gilded silver typical of Parisian metalwork
fabricated in the first half of the 14th century, in Mary’s right
hand is a crystal fleur-de-lis and the figures overall shape is drawn from a
Byzantine model entitled the Virgin of
Tenderness.
Our pilgrimage to museums such as the Musee du Louvre appears more about
collecting facts than anything else. An expert in art knows a great deal about
art; where it was made, who commissioned it, where the artist’s parents came
from, what influences were they under and so forth. As an example of museums faults De Botton refers to such
establishments as storehouses of "concrete information” and when presented in
this way art can soon become less interesting as a walk around the Louvre or
the British Museum could confirm. (De Botton. 2012.
p. 213)
An example of this indifference is
illustrated through the work of German photographer Thomas Struth (b. 1954). In
1989 Struth began making “Museum Photographs” later moving on to churches and
significant secular sites. The photographs show tourists, pilgrims to the sites
making there way around the museums. As de Botton points out it becomes clear
that the visitors are unable to take much sustenance from their surroundings.
Consulting their catalogues people stand before Annunciations and Crucifixions
consuming the information whilst “crimson blood trickles down the muscular
leg of the son of God or a dove hovers in a cerulean sky”. (De Botton. 2012.
p.215) The lightning bolt that people expect through looking at art never seems
to materialize.
Fig 9 Thomas Struth “Museum Photographs”
From a secular point of view art also
seems confusing. Although most of us would never ask but what does it mean?
Most of the time we are left untold, we have to read the piece and take what we
may, text on walls is left to a minimum and the catalogues are often written in
an enigmatic style.
Fig 10 F Banner
“Every Word Unmade” 2007
In Christianity art, as de Botton
highlights is a medium to remind us about what matters, guiding us forcibly
about we have to love and to be grateful for, and what we should be afraid of.
In asking the question If You’re Not Religious, Is Nothing Sacred? Vernon acknowledges the
popularity of the Mona Lisa claiming
it to be the most famous painting in the world. Yet its fame was or was at
least reinforced by its theft in 1911 by Vincenzo Peruggia. It is reported that
more people visited the empty space left behind by the painting the year after
it was stolen than the previous year. As Vernon
states people woke up to what was lost and the absence of the painting asserted
its status. The notion of absence and presence has been explored by artists
such as the surrealist Magritte (1898-1967).
After its
disappearance the image of the Mona Lisa was
then mass-produced and copies began to appear on hotel walls and in people’s
living spaces. For Vernon
people wanted to share in the magic, a magic that Sontag attributes to taking
ownership or gaining control over the subject. As E. H. Gombrich observed, in
primitive societies the distinction between the real thing and the image was
seen as two physically distinct, that is different, manifestations of the same
spirit or energy. Could the magic extending from the mass-produced image relate
to the real thing (the person) or to
what seems more credible, the original image painted by Da Vinci? To my mind
the mass-produced image and the link to Gombrich’s observations reinforces
Sontag’s belief that reality is being usurped by imagery. As Sontag sets out, whilst
the painting can be seen as an interpretation of the real, the photograph or
mass-produced image is an indexical trace directly taken from the real although
in this case the mass-produced image is a copy of a copy. People thought they had obtained a trace of the original
painting through the mass-produced image rather than the real thing, the
person.
Sontag’s
discourse in replacing reality with the photographic image has been illustrated
throughout photography’s history:
I long to have such a memorial of every
being dear to me in the world. It is not merely the likeness which is precious
in such cases-but the association and the sense of nearness involved in the
thing…the fact of the very shadow of the person lying there fixed forever! It
is the very sanctification of portraits I think-and it is not at all monstrous
in me to say, what my brothers cry out against so vehemently, that I would
rather have such a memorial of one I dearly loved, than the noblest artist’s
work ever produced.
- Elizabeth Barrett (1843, letter to Mary Russell Mitford)
Now,
for an absurdly small sum, we may become familiar not only with every famous
locality in the world, but also with almost every man of note in Europe. The ubiquity of the photographer is something
wonderful. All of us have seen the Alps and know Chamonix and the Mer de Glace
by heart, though we have never braved the horrors of the Channel…We have
crossed the Andes, ascended Tenerife, entered Japan, “done” Niagara and the
Thousand Isles, drunk delight of battle with our peers (at shop windows), sat
at the councils of the mighty, grown familiar with kings, emperors and queens,
prima donnas, pets of the ballet, and “well graced actors.” Ghosts have we seen
and have not trembled, stood before royalty and have not uncovered, and looked,
in short, through a three-inch lens at every single pomp and vanity of this
wicked but beautiful world.
- “D. P.”, columnist in Once a Week (London), June 1, 1861
The creations of man or nature never have more grandeur than in an Ansel
Adams photograph, and his image can seize the viewer with more force than the
natural object from which it was made.
- advertisement for a book of photographs by Adams
(1974)
Life itself is not the reality. We are the ones who put life into stones
and pebbles.
-
Frederick Sommer
(All
extracts taken from Sontag 2002)
It is in the context of this theft
that Vernon relates the painting to the sacred, associating the term to the Mona Lisa being “a one-off” that carries
the hallmark of genius”; brushed by “Leonardo’s own hand” the painting has
“intrinsic value”. (Vernon. 2012. P87) Are these elements properties of the
sacred or is the sacred something else? For instance can something be deemed
sacred if once gone is irreplaceable, or as in the case of the Mona Lisa once rediscovered it is sacred
because it is the original and cannot be replaced?
Having owned a reproduction of the Mona Lisa shortly after its theft is as
though the owner looks at it and thinks, I know it is not in the Louvre because
I have it, I own it. But on seeing a reproduction a pilgrimage is made to see
what Berger calls the original of the reproduction. The paintings primary
meaning no longer relates to what it says but what it is. What the image shows
is no longer its unique property. The unique existence of the Mona Lisa like other works of art are
evaluated and defined today as Berger posits objects whose value depends on how
rare they are.
The value of a work of art is gauged
and affirmed by its price on the market. This price, Berger states is a
reflection of its spiritual value, a value that reflects art being deemed
greater than commerce. The spiritual value of an object, as distinct from an
example or a message, is explained in terms of either religion or magic.
However, as Berger posits in modern
Western society neither religion nor magic are deemed a living force and so a
work of art such as the Mona Lisa is
shrouded in an atmosphere of false religiosity. Discussed and presented as holy
relics which for Perlmutter are denied any sacred value once placed in a museum
or gallery, a work of art is first and foremost evidence of its own survival. The
past in which the piece originated is studied in order to prove its survival
genuine. A piece is declared art when its line of descent can be certified.
Such a notion, I feel, reinforces de
Botton’s claim in relation to collecting facts as the statuette of the Virgin and Child, (c1324) illustrates. As a pilgrim or a visitor we are exposed to
art which is of significant importance but in relating works of art to our
inner needs, our soul museums appear to be powerless. Catalogue entries, as
Berger and de Botton state explain who commissioned the work, who owned it
etcetera but the reason why such extensive research is carried out is to prove
that it is genuine and unique.
Much like da Vinci’s The Virgin and Child with St Anna and St
John the Baptist (c. 1499–1500 or c. 1506–8) became famous because an American
wanted to buy it for £2,500,000.00 the Mona Lisa acquired a new level of
impressiveness through its theft. The painting lies in situ more prominent than
before not, it could be said because of its meaning but because of its market
value.
The false religiosity that surrounds
original works of art and which is ultimately dependent upon their market value
has, for Berger became a substitute for what paintings lost when the camera
reproduced it into mass-produced imagery. Its function developed into a form of
nostalgia and if a painting such as the Mona
Lisa is no longer unique and exclusive then it must be made mysteriously
so. The mystification of art Berger believes enables a privileged minority to
invent a history that retrospectively justifies the role of the ruling classes,
a notion that goes some way in reinforcing Perlmutter’s belief that the
subjugation of the spiritual in art fortifies a predominantly male
political-religious structure.
What is the meaning of the Mona Lisa? To me it still seems shrouded
in mystery. What did I expect on viewing such a prestigious work of art? I saw
the original painting and on reflection I am unsure. All I remember is the
crowds, and the cameras. In contrast to a painting that I hadn’t been aware of
or seen as a reproduction, namely the “The
Execution of Lady Jane Grey” (1833),
by Paul Delaroche (1797-1856) my feelings were decidedly different.
What we make
of a painting when we experience it as an original depends, for Berger upon
what we expect from art, and that, he claims depends upon how we have
experienced the meanings of paintings through reproductions.
For Berger the modern means of reproduction
has destroyed the authority of art and removed it from the preserve of the
ruling classes, a preserve that was a social one. The physical preserve of
which was set apart in their palaces and their houses. Originally art, as
Gombrich observed was experienced as ritual and existed in the preserve of the
sacred and magical. The separation of art from life, Berger posits enabled the
subject to exercise power over it, a power that Sontag discusses as a form of
ownership or gaining control. The physical preserve of such ritualistic art was
a cave or later the building it was made for. Throughout history the authority
of art was, As Berger highlights inseparable from the particular authority of
the preserve.
So if we follow Berger’s argument
where does the preserve of art lie today? Images of art today Berger believes
are removed from any preserve and have become ubiquitous, valueless,
insubstantial, ephemeral, available and free. Reproductions have entered the
mainstream of life and as such as themselves hold no power. However, it could
be said that photographic images that are deemed original but are ultimately still
reproductions still command extraordinary prices in today’s market as Andreas
Gursky’s Rhein II (1999) illustrate. Does such imagery support Berger’s
notion of the mysterious?
The process of reproduction, for
Berger is used to promote the illusion that nothing has changed as
reproductions allow the masses to appreciate art as the cultured minority once
did. However, what Berger terms the new language of imagery could be used as a
means of giving meaning to our lives and as a way of “trying to understand the
history of which we can become the active agents”. (Berger. 1977. P. 33)
An example of Berger’s spiritual
value wrapped up in bogus religiosity and magic is, to my mind, exemplified by
descriptions such as the philosopher Roger Scruton’s when he writes:
It conveys the highest gentleness to which a human being can attain – a
gentleness almost divine. Mona Lisa looks into the heart of the viewer in
something like the way Christos Pantokrator looks into the soul of the one who
worships him. The image fascinates us because it steps out of our world…
Feelings akin to this are certainly not evoked through a copy
of the copy and maybe if I was able to stand alone with her I might feel
different but in elbowing my way to the front I only feel stress. It seems that it is almost not about the
painting or the reproduction but the situation by which you view the work. A
darkened solitary room seems more conducive to feelings akin to what the Indian aesthetician Abhinavagupta (950-1020
C.E) described as a transformative experience rather
than the lit, busy, stressful environment of the Mona Lisa.
Does the Mona Lisa hold sacred attributes or are they imposed on to her? As
the poster girl for the Louvre the painting is certainly revered as the Holy of
Holies and her position within the museum certainly reinforces Vernon’s notion that the viewer approaches
with an air of humility, an attitude of worship.
Held as an icon I wonder if people
would flock to view her as a photograph. Sontag might believe so because in
surmising a similar hypothetical scenario she believes a photograph of
Shakespeare would be akin to “having a nail from the True Cross”. (Sontag.
2002. P. 54)
In 1919 one such mass-produced reproduction
of the Mona Lisa was, as Scruton
describes, desecrated by the French artist Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) by
adorning her face with a beard and moustache entitling the readymade "Elle a chaud au cul" (She Has A Hot Arse). Yet as Scruton
posits, to be desecrated the object has to be consecrated, consecrated by human
feelings. Such a view seems to conflict with Perlmutter’s notion that the placing
of sacred religious objects within museums neutralizes them of their spiritual
qualities thus reinforcing the view that Western culture has continued to
suppress the spiritual in art through the deliberate secularization of
religious objects from other cultures. Yet it seems that objects such as the Mona Lisa are becoming sacred in secular
terms thus reinforcing both Sontag and Gombrich. To use the phrase desecration
means that the Mona Lisa has been
seen as being an object with sacred values.
Bibliography
De Botton A, 2012 Religion For Atheists Penguin London:
UK
Perlmutter D and Koppman D, 1999 Reclaiming the Spiritual in Art: Contemporary Cross-cultural Perspectives
Albany: State University of New York
Press
Sontag S, 2002 On Photography Penguin Group: London
Vernon M, 2012 God: The Big Questions Quercus: London
Online
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/zED6OoCMhg/TZQ3HuL_4UI/AAAAAAAAAZg/pwnWm_0M9GQ/s1600/10stru_CA1ready.jpg
http://ahateley.files.wordpress.com/2009/03/fiona_banner1.jpg?w=490
Copy Right Mark King 2012 unless stated
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)