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Interlink
I
A Symposium, integrating Art, Science and Technology
Brisbane
City Hall, 8th October, 1983,
sponsored by: the Royal Society of Queensland, A.N.Z.A.A.S., Queensland,
and the Queensland College of Art
Points for discussion included:
contacts between the three cultural aspects,
the use each makes of advances in the others, and the question: is creativity
their main link?
The purpose of the symposium was:
to strengthen the affinities between facets of our culture; to enhance
personal development by broadening horizons, to introduce forward thinking
people to each other; and to stimulate improvement in our manufactured
products competing on world markets.
Introductory Session
1. Welcome, by Professor J.M. Thompson, Pro-Vice Chancellor, University
of Queensland; Chairman, A.NZ.A.A.S., Queensland Division.
2. Opening Address, SCIENCE AND THE ARTS, by Professor N.H. Fletcher,
Se¼cretary, Physical Sciences, Australian Academy of Science; Director,
Institute of Physical Sciences, CSIRO, Canberra.
Today we are going to discuss some of the relationships between Science
and Art, or perhaps I should say between the Sciences and the Arts, for
there is a great deal of diversity within each of these areas. Indeed
we might have a useful and interesting symposium on the relationships
between Physics and Biology on the one hand or between Music and Painting
on the other. But there does seem to be a greater gulf between Science
and Art, or at least between the way they are practised today, than between
the subdivisions of either of those fields - I work with the Commonwealth
Scientific and Industrial Research Organization, and I confess that even
I find it difficult to imag¼ine it expanded to become the Commonwealth
Scientific, Industrial and Artistic Research Organiza¼tion!
We may tend to think of this separation between Science and Art as being
of comparatively recent origin - the "Two Cultures" of C.P.
Snow - and to imagine that in earlier times things were different, but
I rather doubt that this was so. In the Preface to his great work of
1870 "On the Sensations of Tone" the great German physicist,
physiologist and musicologist Hermann Helmholtz wrote:
" The horizons of physics, philosophy and art have of late been too widely
separated, and, as a consequence, the language, the methods, and the
aims of any one of these studies present a certain amount of difficulty
for the student of any other of them."
Things were apparently very much the same in 1638 when Galileo wrote
in his "Dialogues Concern¼ing Two New Sciences"
" I come now to other questions ... which to some would seem very frivolous,
and more especially to those Philosophers who are continually employed
in the more profound ques¼tions of natural philosophy ... I think I can
give you a Conceit of my own, relating to some problems concerning Music,
a noble subject, of which so many great men, and even Aristotle himself,
have written."
The same sort of problem of communication was perceived by the artist
Albrecht Durer in 1525 who wrote:
"
Sane judgement abhors nothing so much as a picture perpetrated with no
technical knowledge, although with plenty of care and diligence. The
sole reason why painters of this sort are not aware of their own error
is that they have not learnt Geometry ... The blame for this should be
laid upon their masters, who are themselves ignorant of this art." Even
Plato in the fourth century BC complained rather petulantly " We
must endeavour to persuade the principal men of our State to go and learn
arithmetic" and had a sign erected "
Let no one ignorant of geometry enter my door.".
In beginning today's discussion, therefore, we are facing a problem of
long standing, but one that is caused, I think, by lack of time for consideration
and by the existence of specialist languages that impede communication
across disciplinary divisions. There are also many widely held miscon¼ceptions
about the nature of science, and probably about the nature of art too,
which need to be cleared away before we can begin.
One of these concerns technology - an indispensable part of both art
and science but one that is distinct from both of them. A painter needs
pigments, canvasses and papers with particular qual¼ities before he can
realistically begin, a sculptor needs marble or bronze or stainless steel
and the tools and skills with which to work it, a musician needs all
the technology implied by the instru¼ments on which his composition is
to be played. In the same way a physicist needs particle accelerators,
oscilloscopes, and computers, a chemist needs N.M.R. and infrared spectrometers
and a biologist needs centrifuges and microelectrodes.
In a sense we might expect that this technological dependence should
link artists and scientists together, but I do not think this is the
real point. Both art and science are essentially different from the technologies
and skills upon which they depend and which they in turn generate. Each
of them belongs to the domain of the mind; each begins in the imagination.
A true scientist does not proceed by following the rules of "scientific
method" any more than a true composer works by simply following
the rules of classical harmony and counterpoint or of twelve-note tone-rows.
It is true, of course, that some science is done this way and some music
is written this way, but it is rarely good science or good music. Both
of these must be, in the deepest sense, adventures of the spirit.
We could all gain something, perhaps, from the modest adoption of an
emphasis contrary to that usually put forward by academics, critics,
philosphers and historians. Let us think of science for a while as a
glorious adventure of the mind, taking imaginative leaps and not worrying
too much for the moment about the strict chain of formal proof. Any theory
that is beautiful enough is almost bound to contain some element of truth,
and it is sometimes better to be wrong with ele¼gance than to be right
with dullness.
Conversely let us bring some of the flights of artistic fancy a little
closer to physical reality. Let composers know and exploit the acoustical
characteristics of particular buildings, painters and perfume blenders
the chemistry of their raw materials and processes, novelists the structural
gram-7 mar of language. A deeper knowledge and understanding of technology
makes one its master and not its servant.
It is only by knowing and understanding the basic rules and techniques
of one's craft that one can ignore them with creative integrity. Einstein
would not have been able to create the theory of relativity without a
deep and thorough understanding of Newtonian mechanics; Picasso's distorted
and stylized faces would have lacked their authority had he not been
able to produce the serene masterpieces of his Blue Period; the flamboyant
creation of a white-hatted chef is suspect unless he can also produce
a beautifully judged omelette!
I might go even further than this, however, and point out that the technology
of science and the science of art both have their own sort of beauty
too. The curve of an aircraft wing, the oiled precision of a ball race,
the saturated beauty of laser light, are all aesthetically satisfying
because of their beautiful economy and appropriateness to their function.
The same is true of the grained and arched top-plate of a violin, the
overspun copper on the bass strings of a piano or the polished elegance
of an organ pipe.
At one further remove, the scientific principles that lead to the concordant
tunings of musical instruments, the beautifully ordered scalings of organ
pipes in length and diameter, the mixing of pigments to produce new colours,
and the blending of chemicals to produce new flavours and aro¼mas can
similarly excite our aesthetic appreciation. An understanding of these
principles enhances rather than diminishes our pleasure, as the intellect
joins with the senses.
I am sure that many of these matters will properly occupy our attention
today, along with the kindred themes of the contribution that modern
scientific techniques can make to basically artistic endeavours, and
the aesthetics of scientific discovery. The program is, I am delighted
to note, a Symposium in the proper classical sense of the word - a friendly
discussion structured around a restrained drinking party!
I know that you all share my gratitude to the Queensland Branch of ANZAAS
for its initiative in inviting speakers on suck a wide range of topics,
ready and waiting, as they say in the Music Hall, to display their erudition
for our enlightenment and to volunteer their virtuosity for our verification.
I am delighted to declare today's Symposium open.
Session I : Art
1. ORBITS ABOUT A THEME 1981, John Gilfedder, a composition with a scien¼tific
inspiration, dedicated to, and played by Mr Colin Spiers, pianist.
2. THE FUTURE IN ART - Mr John Rigby, Artist and Art Educator; Officer
in Charge Fine Arts Section, Queensland College of Art and Trustee Queensland
Art Gallery.
I could begin by saying it is probably well to refrain from giving title
to an address before one begins to think about it, better to leave ones
options open. There can be no specific predictions for the art of the
future and it has been said art has no need of certainties.
Life and art is a sequence.
Art is what it is today because of what it was yesterday. Tomorrow will
be the result of today and nothing is so apt to occur as the unexpected.
Artists, visual artists, are people of images, and may be willing or
unwilling to speak about art. Verbal concepts are no less subtle than
visual ones but they are less subtle when called upon to describe the
sensory appearance of things.
For someone who has not particularly courted science and technology in
my own art, I feel a little like the wise man of the East who was eating
his dinner of dried figs, and at the same time explaining to an admiring
group the beauty and healthfulness of a purely vegetable diet.
"
Look at your figs through this" said a scientist present, handing
the man a microscope. The pundit looked and saw his precious figs were
covered with crawling microbes. He handed the mi¼croscope back and said, "Friend,
keep your glass - the bugs no longer exist."
I may have been inclined to say to the scientist, like the man of the
East, keep your micro¼scope, before beginning this short attempt to relate
art to science, which necessitated some research. I now feel the look
through the microscope was meaningful.
It is true to say that we are what we think, and not what we think we
are, hence the value to todays symposium.
Artists have never been anti-intellectual, but to many their initial
impulse towards their work is derived from experiences that are unique,
often spontaneous, subjective and at times even irrational.
It has been said that science states meanings and that art expresses
them. Scientific enquiry aims at verification and rejects emotional involvement.
The scientist places a premium on logical processes, the artist, however,
may consciously seek out the illogical in his search for a fresh statement.
Both Art and Science are certainly engaged in discovery. It is a lifetime
endeavour, a lifetime search. They are both concerned with not only the
actuality of the world one knows, but the other, ones ideas about actuality.
The certainties which previous centuries believed in are no longer certainties.
Reality, built on external visible things does not exist as it once did,
with the result that the artist in this century has endeavoured to render
visible the invisible element in reality, to give expression to that
which is hidden. The same can be said of scientific discoveries, and
we are continually having to come to grips with everchanging situations.
Science and Technology have brought about a general revolution which
art has shared. Painting has expressed the `age' we live in. The modern
artist would not put as his first criteria the mirroring of nature. Subject
takes on a secondary role, the figurative artist often subordinates natural
appearances. He will distort nature if by so doing he can convey greater
feeling through form-invention.
He has also, like science, transferred his attention more from the outward
view of the world to the inner view, to inner perception.
Great art has subjective creation, wedded to, plastic and spatial effects.
Not all modern art, in fact, only a small part is purely non-objective,
much is still nature¼derived without being transcriptive where the abstract
elements are built into the work.
Where the art work has `plastic orchestration' elements such as planes,
lines, colour and tex¼ture arranged in such a way that `movement pattern'
allows the observer to explore the picture space experiencing harmony
and a cosmic order.
To be more specific about the various links of art, science and technology
perhaps it would help to use the terminology artist - engineer - machine.
The relationship between art and tech¼nology is in no sense brand new.
It dates back to Leonardo and beyond. There is not the time here today
to expand in any depth on the artists of the Renaissance except to say
quite a few were occupied with science and technology, with logical processes,
with hidden structure, with anatomy, with machines, with perspective.
However, until Cezanne the main certainty on which all art and the whole
of tradition
was built was the acceptance of external, visible reality.
One of the great changes resulted from the invention and perfection of
photography and the film. Man now had for the first time another possibility
for capturing reality. Those who wished to possess a portrait, a memory
of something, a landscape or an animal no longer had to consult the painter.
Thus art had a shifting of orientation.
The influences over the past one hundred and forty years on art have
been many and varied. Because of the camera lens many artists felt a
necessity to express themselves in abstract rather than in traditional
illusionistic terms.
George Braque said "painting is getting closer to poetry, now that
photography has freed it from the need to tell a story. Nevertheless,
the camera did give to artists a new range of visual experiences. These
artists responded to a greatly expanded world of study that was made
possible, with new ideas and perception that is beyond the scope of the
human eye.
There is nothing wrong for an artist to be stimulated by the use of this
technology but he must be on guard against the mechanical camera that
it does not subjugate both his aesthetic subjectivity and personal vision.
There is no substitute for personal observation, for sensitivity and
feeling, for deep profound experiences from which great art springs.
We all know that technology can be used for destructive purposes. I would
hope there is more emphasis about its creative potential.
The future generations of artists will undoubtedly be attracted as many
have been already to abandoning the use of known forms of art and developing
an art using the new matrix of knowledge.
This will happen in painting, sculpture, film, music, dance, happenings,
theatre and architec¼ture, animation etc.
LASER LIGHTS, COMPUTERS, HOLOGRAMS, ELECTRONICS
Dr John R. Pierce, Bells Laboratories director of research in communication
sciences said "A composer equipped with a digital computer has no
limitations except his own. The artist can use the plotter either by
punched-card instructions or he can use a "light pen" to draw
line and shapes on the tube.
Computer films turn out animated drawings in a fraction of the time otherwise
needed. It can solve complicated design and construction problems. Computers
can work with great speed and can eliminate considerable drudgery ...
it would, I believe to true to say that it has yet to produce new sensibilities,
new intellect, new emotions.
I cannot help but ask myself certain questions regarding this aesthetic
revolution. On the as¼sumption that you cannot make others feel unless
you feel yourself; you cannot make others see unless you yourself see,
how can technology measure up? Can a machine reduce man to tears as can
great art, great music, great poems.
All art must suggest something. Mere verbal description is not literature:
It is only words; a picture, I believe, should have something to do with
the soul. Music must be more than jingling tunes and mincing sounds.
Will a computer, a typewriter, electronic media with flashing lights,
rise to the heights, achieved by the expression of mind speaking through
its highest instrument, man, with often the simplest of materials.
Can we contrast the artistic with the scientific?
How questionable is the comparison between the development of art and
the natural science? Structural treatment of pictorial themes becomes
noticeable with Cezanne and Cubism. RHYTHM, PROGRESSION, REGULARITY,
LOGIC OF SEQUENCE AND ARRANGEMENT. What do we mean by the word structure
- it could be described as patterns - as energy events.
It occurs in chemical elements.
In art the word structure is used as the organisation of the picture
surface, it also is pattern,
energy, pull and push, repetition, arrangement - it is what a work of
art is built on, without it a work has no backbone, be it a painting
or a sculpture.
These forms lie deeper than surface forms.
Electron microscopes show the most beautiful spherical structures in
Diatoms, Silicon Dioxide, water-borne microplants, metals, that are as
beautiful in arrangement as any non figurative paint¼ing.
The microscope will show patterns that have much in common with formal
art. Scientific structure, where properties of matter are determined
by nature in the way they are arranged, the way they are joined together,
as in atoms. These structural laws are found in much of arts language
in its structural principles just as they are part of science and technology.
Science is continually opening up new worlds with new values which make
for new fields of endeavour.
Artists, too, have mirrored their times, with sensitivity and feeling
for the environment and the human condition. Their vision has often preceded
their times.
Many artists have seen a menace in too close a dialogue, with the structure
of scientific ad¼vance whilst others have embraced it.
In this age in which the validity of the old humanist principles is being
challenged and the efficiency of our tools has increased enormously,
in its affirmations and denials, its confidence and its doubts, which
make it so confused, it is still evident that art is reflecting the revolution
in thought, ethics and even the condition of our existence.
For myself, I still have a predeliction to love the plain, homely, common,
simple things of earth, of these to sing: to make the familiar beautiful
and the commonplace enchanting, to search for a sincerity and simplicity
of means employed.
Art will no doubt help to determine the nature and purpose of man in
the future as it has in the past, walking hand in hand with technology
and science, both of which will offer many and great possibilities for
art; but I also firmly believe that there will be individual artists,
adopting an
attitude of refusal, who will fulfill themselves both in the world and
against the world with the simplest and most traditional tools, whilst
others will express themselves in a language more appro¼priate to the
atom, the computer and to electronics.
REFERENCES
SCHARF, Aaron, Art and Photography. DAVIS, Douglas, Art and the Future.
KEPES, Gyorgy, Structure in Art and Science.
3. THE ROLE OF THE ARTIST IN SOCIETY - Mr David Siebert, Artist and Art
Educator; Senior Instructor, Painting - Printmaking, Queensland College
of Art.
ABSTRACT
The essential role of the artist in Australian European society has never
been fully realised. Very little in the visual arts has achieved much
beyond craftsmanship since the arrival of the First Fleet in 1788.
On the other hand an artistic tradition was operating throughout this
continent for at least 30,000 years prior to European settlement which
seems to have been historically essential, artistical¼ly substantial
and socioculturally adequate. Unrecognised and unappreciated until recently,
Aborigi¼nal art is the only unique visual art produced in this country
which has world significance.
Essentially traditional Aboriginal culture is dead. However the conditions
necessary for the production of objects which can be recognized as having
`symbolic validity' outside the context of Australian society have finally
arrived again. We are about to embark upon making a significant contribution
to international civilization through our visual arts.
4. MUSIC AND SCIENCE IN THE TOTAL CULTURE - Mr John Gilfedder, Composer,
Senior Lecturer in History of Music and the Arts, Queensland Conservatorium
of Music.
Before such a distinguished audience I must say I appreciate the privilege
of presenting the contribution of that Tonal universe, Music, to the
synthesis we seek.
The "Interlinks" between Music and Science present themselves
powerfully in 3 areas ... I The Scientific Bases within Music itself
II Parallel expressions by all the Arts and Sciences, of the cultural
spirit of an Age III Science as stimulus to Musical invention.
I- Among Scientific Bases - we know that those wave-like ripples in the
air are initiated by a vibrating Source, thence experienced as audible
- Sound ... a strange and rich phenomenon ... For Primitive man the Universe
was an audible encounter as much as anything else. For our Aborigines,
just as the Painting was the visible sign of the Dream-Time creators,
so was Music the audible sign, their very voices (Jones, T.).
So much for Mythology, which can speak beyond illusion to great truths
about the Universe. Scientifically, Sound's parameters of Pitch, Duration,
Intensity, Timbre arise from such source ele¼ments as Size, Tension,
Rate of oscillation, Amplitude, Harmonic partials in the overtones, and,
importantly, cavities and materials, auditoriums to at once resonate
and clarify.
Most of all this was well-known in ancient Greece (what wasn't well-known
to the Greeks?) as witness the theatres at Delphi and Epidaurus, where
the slightest whisper from the stage, or Scena, is clearly audible on
the highest rim of those conch-like cavities. (Aristotle in Cohen and
Drabkin, 1948)
Quite recently, the new Concert-Hall in Melbourne is found to throw the
sound upwards to "The gods", partially because the ceiling
over the stage itself is too high to concentrate and clarify in the stalls.
(The problem is more acute with large orchestral forces than small ensembles).
Acous¼tics presents a facinating field for the meeting of Science and
Music, raising other issues, such as Reverberation, Interference, Absorbtion,
Decay-rate, and placement of Choirs and Orchestras. The great composers
have possessed keen acoustic awareness, as in Handel's choice for the
Water Music (1717) of Trumpets, Horns, Oboes, Bassoons to solidify the
Strings in the open air.
Yet the Incantatory power of Sound, as our aborigines sensed it, and
the Sistrum players in the temples of ancient Egypt (they called the
Sistrum Sehem, meaning "spiritual power") is not ex¼hausted
when we know its Material and Efficient causes, as Aristotle and Aquinas
termed them - when the Problem is solved there remains the Mystery. The
Magic, the poetry of it - the numinous power of Zeus the Thunderer -
is spiritually real, binding and haunting composer and listener, from
Paleolithic man to Electronic man. The proper response is a certain reverence
and awe, not unmixed with delight and excitement.
I would crave your indulgence to pause for a moment on this question
of the Problem and the Mystery, for I believe we have here a classic
meeting point for Science and Art. Too much of the "Two Cultures" debate
since C.P. Snow has been weakened by too little emphasis on the com¼plementary
values of the Scientific and Artistic approaches. On the one hand Science
has been sometimes mis-represented as an anti-cultural activity, or Art
mis-represented as a sort of fringe gliding to the realities of a Technological
society. (Jones, B., 1982).
It can be illuminating to consider any object for enquiry in the double
aspect of a Problem to be solved and a Mystery to be contemplated. In
the vision of Aristotle, supported by Aquinas, solution to the Problem
lies in studying 2 causes - the Material cause (what it is made of) and
the Efficient cause (what forces act immediately on it.) Thus Beethoven's
5th Symphony is a succession of sounds, powerful and tranquil, struck
by players from a larger instrumental mass than in Mo¼zart's day - its
physical impact has been overwhelming since the first performance in
1807. Fur¼ther dimensions are revealed in the forming of the sounds to
striking and unified shapes and relationships, and in the spiritual theme
that it is possible to encounter and contain the almost intolerable.
The Mystery resides in the Formal and Final causes. The Formal cause
is more than the Musi¼cal Form, it is the Idea in the mind of the artist,
and all the forming of the matter that follows. The Final cause is the
ultimate purpose or vision for the completed design (Aquinas).
Now the further the insight into a Problem, by Science, the richer the
values revealed in a Mystery to be contemplated. More recent minds of
significance have expressed a similar vision, in differing terminologies.
For Cezanne it is "Significant Form", for Gerard Manley Hopkins, "Ins-cape." I
was delighted to hear the artist John Rigby term it "The
inner element in Reality." Teil¼hard de Chardin (1957) has his own
strange window upon this dimension.
" Like those translucent materials which a light within them can illuminate
as a whole, the world appears to a Christian mystic bathed in an inward
light which intensifies its relief, its structure and its depth."
The Japanese physicist, Yukawa ascribes the split in our cultures to
the secondary role to which intuition and imagination have been relegated.
He deplores the elimination of everything that cannot be directly documented,
and points to ancient Greece, where "not only were intuition and
deduction in complete harmony with each other, but also there was no
such thing as the estrange¼ment of Science from Philosophy, Literature,
and the Arts" (Yukawa, 1973). The communicating fascination of Professor
Julius Sumner Miller's presentations have perhaps their roots in a simple
fact: he sees the Poetry in Physics.
II - Parallel expressions of the cultural tone of an age, its World-view,
or Weltanschauung, have drawn me for more than 20 years - I still hold
it to be the most meaningful way to present the History of Music.
As one example, Geometric design in Art recurs in Stonehenge, Egypt,
Greece, Gothic. There is marvellous Scientific skill in these great constructions
(we are now clearer as to how Stonehenge was built), but as Plato confirms,
the value is also a Symbolic one - Geometry reveals something of the
Divine mind, ordering the web of the Cosmos ...
(Slides shown, of Stonehenge, Greece, Gothic)
Related to Cosmic order is Number-symbolism, a curious cast of thought,
yet a recurrent one. Pythagoras would appear to have encountered it in
his visit to Egypt as a young man, and devel¼oped it in such a compelling
scheme, at Delphi, and later at Croton (where his "monastic" cult
was partially based upon it) that it lingers from the Parthenon to Bach,
and re-appears today in the thinking of Messiaen.
The classical playing out of Number-symbolism would run in this fashion
: ONE is the primor¼dial unity of the Creator, TWO the dualistic principle,
as between Father and Son, or Lovers, or Yan and Yin, THREE is the product
of love, as the Holy Spirit, or again the means of balance, or of reconciliation
of opposites. If the principle of 3 applies to the Deity, it must be
not only a basic constructive element in all things, but Divine.
If THREE is the number of God, the 4th, created thing is Earth, with
its 4 "Elements" and 4 points of the compass, and 4 seasons.
Seven is the sum of 3 and 4, and Twelve its multiple, and both symbolize
union of Spirit with Matter (Male, 1961).
Whatever the degree of validity of assumptions such as these, the principle
of meaningful Order may be valid, and there are certainly moving expressions
of it in the high Gothic (c.1150-c.1300), and these expressions are parallel.
The Music is in 3 parts, both vertically (Tenor, Duplum, Triplum) and
horizontally (3-time), like the facade of Notre Dame cathedral, and its
3 towers. Dante's "Divine Comedy" is in 3 books, each of 33
Cantos, on 3 levels of meaning, and every 3rd line rhymes. Science postulated
a "Tertium quid", a 3rd element to connect Spiritual to Material,
by medium of influences through the "Ether" (Lewis, 1963).
Even more central in Gothic culture (at least in its finest aims) was
the harmonious penets ation of Matter by Spirit, in a Synthesis. In Philosophy
Aquinas married Revelation with Reason, in Science his teacher Albertus
Magnus and the astronomer Roger Bacon believed they balanced Phi¼losophy
with Science. Despite genuine achievements of the (Tripartite) Guild
system the most bril¼liantly successful synthesis remains the Cathedral.
Chartres is the Parthenon of the Gothic.
The centuries from 1400 to 1900 are of course the seed-bed of the 20th
Century, both in its aspects of achievement and crisis. From so complex
a panorama we do best today to recall but a few of the most central issues.
In the Renaissance (c.1400-c.1600) man's fascination with the horizontal
dimensions of his world (as contrast the vertical of the Gothic) is manifest
in the perspective vanishing-points and shadings of the Paintings, that "hole
in the wall" effect that is omnipresent, in the Barrel-vault and
Loggia of the Architecture; the Music likewise gives forth dimension
through Polyphony - lines interweave with artful grace on many planes
- Tallis's great motet, "Spem in Alium" is in 40 parts!
Now Science begins to take wings after the restless curiosity of Leonardo,
and the Baroque (c.1600-c.1750) presents a multi-planar cosmos, an endless
whirling motion, whether Harvey speaks of the circulation of the blood,
or Laplace and Newton of planetary motion, or Spanish mystics of swirling
angels. Few are the resting-points for Music either - if we enter into
Bach's great
Organ Toccata and Fugue in D minor, we are swirled across the pages in
unstoppable, energizing scrolls.
From around 1740 the Enlightenment hovers behind the Rococo and Neo-Classic,
energizing certainly, but at once both liberation and deception. In Music
the Sonata Form, wielded so cogent¼ly by those emerging genii of the
Middle Class, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, reflects in musical logic
man's new conviction that he can solve his own problems, now and in the
future, in the "Coda" so to speak.
Romanticism rediscovers Feeling, Imagination and Nature, and yet more
importantly, the Numinous ... that aspect of the Mystery rather than
the Problem-solving initiated by the Enlighten¼ment. Tragically however,
as Barry Chiswell has reminded us, the 2-Culture split was widened by
the grim landscape sowed and harvested by the Industrial Revolution.
Though Scientific improve¼ments to instruments benefited Music (as in
the Boehm valve system for Winds and more brilliant escapement for Pianos)
Music, like Poetry, turned its back on Science, to Nature and Fantasy.
Tolkien (1964) reflects this revulsion - p.54 -
"
Escape ... may proceed from a considered disgust from so typical a product
of the Ro¼bot Age, that combines elaboration and ingenuity of means with
ugliness." Impressionism has affinities with Scientific interest
in Light and Photography, and evokes magical overtones in the prismatic
scattering of Timbres, as does Debussy, scoring as he does with a Pointillistic
palette. Yet this very scattering is portentous ...
" What the Debussyan harmonies reveal no words can tell, but the overtones
explain the jerry-building of our universe shudders in imminent ruin to engulf
us all."
This remarkable poem by O'Dwyer (1941) is epic in style and theme, and
was awarded the C.J. Dennis Memorial Prize in that year. I was privileged
to live with it for over 20 years, completing a setting for Reader, Flute,
Cor Anglais, Harp and Quartet in 1972. It was recorded in 1976.
If one were to ask, as we come to the 20th Century, what are the central
themes, amid its myriad directions, then surely the answer would be -
Fragmentation ... and Renewal ... Fragmentation - in the Relativism of
all values, the yawning confrontation of Capitalism and Leninism, dissolution
of the nuclear family, dissolution of the Nucleus, "Isms" rampant,
Post¼Expressionistic nightmares as in Bacon's splintering screams, and
the barely-stifled screams of Webern and of Stravinsky's and Picasso's
clowns.
Renewal - in the Neo-Primitivism of the Fauves, Stravinsky, Orff and
his Schiilwerk, a clear¼ing of the ground of bourgeois illusions since
the Enlightenment by Becket's tramps, Ionesco's Rhinosceri, the clowns
of Picasso and Rouault, and Cage's relinquishment of the Renaissance
Ego, and by the shock of events themselves; by genuine renewals in approaches
to Race and Nature and Science, and by Charismatic infusion of unlooked-for
gifts and powers from the world of the Spirit (Meyer-Baaer, 1974).
III - Scientific inspiration for the invention of highly original Music
has been a theme since at least Pythagoras. Whether Pythagoras leapt
to his great principle after hearing a blacksmith's ham¼mers, as legend
has it or by comparing the divisions of a Monochord, as he is represented
at Char¼tres, it is difficult to exaggerate his later impact. The proportions
2:1 produce the Octave, 3:2 the 5th, 4:3 the 4th, 9:8 the Whole-tone.
Apparently a Harmony of sublime and methodical design underlies Music,
and more than Music.
Inspired by Pythagoras (as handed on through the Neo-Platonists and the
De Musica of Boethius), the high Middle Ages elevated the Octave, 5th
and 4th like a giant, gaunt Musico-Ar¼chitectural skeleton, filling the
rounded hollows of Romanesque, and vertiginous, flame-like tracer¼ies
of Gothic. These were the intervals of Divinity.
Through Boethius also the poetic vision of the Music of the Spheres,
Musica Mundana, more than lingering through Palestrina and Bach and Beethoven,
and inspiring Contemporary composers - Orff (Der Mond), Crumb (Night
of the 4 Moons) and the transcendental Messiaen. Stockhausen too has
come to see that we must sink our petty Egos into the Cosmoic Harmony
before we are reborn.
(I heard Stockhausen speak along these lines in London in March 1982,
while introducing his "Inori". His "Sternklang" or "Star-sound" is
his most committed expression of a Musica Munda¼na concept.)
Stockhausen's "Song of the Youth" (1955-6) also carries a Musica
Mundana feeling, with its quadrophonic Sound-sources; though only one
boy's voice is used, praising God, a vast multitude of voices is heard
in the final Montage, reaching
our ears through a shower of Electronically generated inter-stellar momements
of music.
Nebulas, Quasars, Planets, Black holes, and so much that is spatial and
astronomical! In Me¼tastasis by Xenakis, 61 separate glissandi of the
Strings are as calculated slopes, Sound-spaces of continuous evolution.
These very glissandi, which he compares to surfaces and volumes led to
the Philips Pavilion at Brussels Exposition, 1958, with Le Courbousier.
Geometric progressions, espe¼cially the Golden Section, abound. Elsewhere,
as in Pithoprakta, we seem to float through clouds of Sound-events, Eke
the Siderial dust, their impingement upon us regulated by the Laws of
Large Numbers (Laplace-Gauss, Poisson) ... (Xenakis).
No less than 7 Scientific phenomena are stimuli to Composition in my "Orbits
about a Theme" (1981), and I warmly appreciate the suggestion raised
by John O'Hagan and so definitively realized by pianist Colin Spiers,
that it should open the Conference. In summary they are -
1. Orbiting motion 3.
Planetary shapes 5. Density
variation
2. Phasing ambiguities 4. Gravity 6.
Galaxy spindle 7. Probabilities, with semi-structured systems.
Of these, to mention one that composers find fruitful - Phasing ... Two
themes, or two Sonic fields may meet exactly, or on opposite beats, or
somewhere between, or just miss, depending on their position in phase.
Just as we seem to have grasped their relationship, it shifts ...
Such dimensions can be further extended by Electronic and Computer creation
of Music - there is no reason why great works cannot be composed without
conventional Sound-sources. Yet often limitation of the means available
to him stimulates the Artist. With a computerized Studio at his fingertips
the Composer is still wise to compose in the spirit of some of the great
minds I have tried to outline here - still in need of that creative flash
of intuition. So given, let us go forward, Science and Music into that "freedom
of the Beautiful, wherein oceans remain unknown", more than disciplines
of mutual regard, interweaving rather, Bach-like, in unfolding dimensions
of Glory.
REFERENCES
AQUINAS. Summa Theologica la,xiv,8 - relates formal cause to the minds
of both Creator and artist. COHEN and DRABKIN, 1948. A Source Book of
Greek Science, McGraw-Hill, New York. quoting Aristotle, Concerning Audibility
- "Sounds stifled when they arise are dim and misty; but if they
are closer they thrust forth and fill all the air around them".
JONES, Barry, 1982. Sleepers Wake! O.U.P., Melbourne.
JONES, Trevor. The Art of the Didgeridu, a field recording of this ethnomusicologist,
Monash University - Peter Mann Records.
LEWIS, C.S., 1963. The Discarded Image, Cambridge University Press. MALE,
Emile, 1961. The Gothic Image, Collins, Fontana Edn., pp. 10-14. MEYER-BARER,
Kathi, 1970. Music of the Spheres, Princeton University Press. O'DWYER,
Joseph, 1941. The Trojan Doom, in Poems, Melbourne, Hawthorne Press.
TEILHARD DE CHARDIN, 1957. Le Milieu Divin., Collins Fontana Edn., 5th
Impression, 1966, p. 130. TOLKIEN, T.R.R., 1964. Tree and Leaf, Unwin
Books, London.
YUKAWA, 1973. Creativity and Intuition, Kodado, Tokyo, pp. 108, 555.
XENAKIS, Iannis. In Tempo., No. 93 - Towards a Metamusic.
Session II Science
1. EINSTEIN - written and spoken by Mr David Rowbotham, Author and Journalist;
Literary Editor, "The Courier Mail".
E=mc2 Einstein at Princeton It went off in his face.
The domed forehead was furrowed
And the mushed hair was blown more symmetrical. Into the neck stemmed
the chin's ellipse in a fold, And the bridge of the nose was cut
Between the eyes to the great ravine of vision, Ridged in a curved geometry
To the corners of jaws that had compressed Warnings to two presidents:
make
The bomb before Berlin; now Don't drop it.
The eyes burned black:
Inextinguishable fire internally consuming, And the underlapping pain
Left marks like hieroglyphs on papyrus. He simply wanted to be a man
Who brought his grain of sand To the common fund,
But gave the world a diamond mine And the blast that shaped his face
To co-ordinates of cosmic death Where equations are wiped out And what
remains is relative,
Lost to the countenance of its invention¼His friends themselves were
horror-struck When, asked once,
What were the benched experiments that drew him To his millenniums' mite
of algebra,
He answered (interstellar),
" I haven't been inside a laboratory for years."
David Rowbotham, Selected Poems, University of Queensland Press, 1975.
Published with permission.
2. SYMMETRY AND ITS EXPRESSION IN ART AND SCIENCE A Short Review. Dr
N.H. Agnew, Scientist, Materials Conservator, Queensland Museum.
INTRODUCTION
Symmetry is not a trivial matter. Its use in science is a powerful tool
in the discovery of struc¼ture of molecules, and among mathematicians
it has long been a favourite topic. In art its influence has perhaps
been less dominant but even here its use is often pervasive, as I hope
to show.
Consider your hands - they are mirror images which cannot be super-imposed
on each other. They are said to be asymmetric. A symmetrical structure
is one which remains unchanged when it is reflected in an ordinary mirror
image. That is it can be superimposed on its mirror image. The twin forms
of all asymmetric objects are often called "left" and "right" to
distinguish them, and no amount of examination of one will show a property
not possessed by the other. This puzzled Im¼manual Kant: "What can
more resemble my hand than its image in the looking glass ... and yet
I cannot put such a hand as I see in the glass in place of its original" (Gardner,
M., 1965). Alice too was likewise perplexed when she said the objects
in her looking glass `go the other way'.
Louis Pasteur in 1848, as students of chemistry have been taught, picked
out crystals of ammonium tartate which were identical except in their
handedness. These mirror image crystals when dissolved in water possess
the curious property of rotating plane polarised light - one form rotates
to the left, the other to the right by an equal amount. Clearly here
is a manifestation of asymmetry at the molecular level. So was born an
important branch of chemistry - that of optical activity. Optical activity
is shown by all chemical compounds whose mirror image are non-superim¼posable.
A familiar example is grape sugar (glucose) or dextrose, which consists
naturally of the right handed or dextro-form. Adrenaline exists in left
and right handed forms, but only one form has much effect on blood vessels.
This odd duality is found in structures with any number of dimensions,
including those with more than three. The discovery that fundamental
subatomic particles have left- and right-handed¼ness (for which two Chinese
physicists received the Nobel prize in 1957) was described by Robert
Oppenheimer as a `gay and wonderful discovery' (Gardner, M_, 1965).
SYMMETRY IN THE ANCIENT WORLD
We know of the ancient Greeks' preoccupation with mathematics and the
Platonic obsession with order. There can be only five perfect polyhedra
of Pythagoras and Plato - the tetrahedron, cube, octahedron, icosahedron,
and dodecahedron. Each of these is a highly symmetric structure and each
was identified by the Greeks with the four elements thought to constitute
the world: earth, fire, air and water. The fifth, the dodecahedron, was
associated with the cosmos. Incidental¼ly, the notion of a fifth essence
is said to be the origin of our word `quintessence', and the dode¼cahedron
was attributed also with mysticism. Doubtless this is why it appears
in a Salvador Dali painting, "The Last Supper".
The Pythagoreans, however, believed the sphere to be perfect, all points
on its surface being the same distance from its centre. This preoccupation
with geometric and mathematical perfection was something of an illusion,
as it turned out, in its application to the natural world. Planets, for
example, do not move in circular paths at fixed speeds. And as Carl Sagan
and others, notably Karl Popper, have pointed out the Pythagoreans teachings
assumed the rigidity of religious dogma which stifled the free expression
of contrasting views.
The most impressive physical manifestation of symmetrical structures
from ancient times is, of course, the pyramids. Sir Herbert Read in his
series of lectures on art for the BBC in the 1930's pointed out (Read)
that the pyramids gain enormously from their hugh size, from the contrast
they afford to the flat landscape of the desert, and the decisive accents
they create in the strong sunlight. But, he says, "these are all
adventitious aids and are not essentially artistic. The pyramids in them¼selves
are wholly rational, and what is wholly rational cannot entirely satisfy
the aesthetic sensibility. It has always been the function of art to
stretch the mind some distance beyond the limits of the understanding.
That `distance beyond' may be spiritual or transcendental, or, perhaps,
merely fantastical; somewhere it will overstep the limits of the rational.
This does not mean that art will outwit harmony; that it must always,
in Bacon's phrase, have something strange in its propor¼tion. Gothic
architecture is an art that achieves its most transcendental effects
whilst obeying geo¼metrical laws as strict as those which control the
pyramids; but in Gothic architecture geometry is the servant of art,
and not its master".
Herein, I think, lies the key to the use of symmetry in art. Regular
geometrical, and symmetri-cal structures are too cold, analytical and
sometimes just boring - one dodecahedron is like every other one, yet
who could deny its beautiful regularity. As William Blake said: "Grecian
is ma¼thematic form; Gothic is living form. Mathematic form is eternal
in the reasoning memory; living form is eternal existence". And
yet despite this uncompromising analysis, in art both the creator and
the spectator have found aesthetic gold to be mined in the use of symmetrical
elements across the wide spectrum that separates the pyramids and the
cathedrals; or, for that matter, the art of Michelangelo and that of
Maurits Escher.
For example, consider the reversal of the figures in Figure 1. How tedious
they would be were all pairs facing the same way. Yet the mirror image
symmetry of the textile design is obvious. Contrast this with the stark
bilateral symmetry of Fig. 2, which has been described as a visual analogue
of a palindrome.
GEOMETRICAL PATTERNS
Continuing the line of argument that there is artistic value to be found
in highly symmetrical structures we look next at the wonderful designs
in the Alhambra of the Moors during the 15th century.
Here, as Bronowski has said, the artist and the mathematician in Arab
civilisation have quite literally become one. "These patterns represent
a high point of the Arab exploration of the subtleties and symmetries
of space itself" (Bronowski).
In our own times the work of Maurits Escher the Dutch graphics artist
represents a profound exploration of this theme. Escher in 1936 had visited
the Alhambra and sketched the majolica tiles (Teuber). Escher's native
genius in the design of flat tessellations predates his visit to Alhambra,
however, as some of his earliest work from 1922, when he was finishing
his training,
seems to have been influenced by aspects of Art Nouveau,
and also the current literature on psychology especially the forerunners
of Gestalt. Escher's most famous works such as Sky & Water I (Fig.
3) and Day and Night (Fig. 4), however, date from the post-Alhambra period.
Escher's work has been widely used to teach formal symmetry to students
of crystallography (Macgillavry; Glasser). The reason for its popularity
in teaching is that symmetry is essentially a geometrical concept and
diagrams such as Escher's are ideal for this purpose. There are only
17 possible crystallographic groups of symmetry structures and these
were established on theoretical grounds by E.S. Fedorov in 1891. However,
the Moors had already made use of all 17 symmetry structures at the Alhambra.
Crystals' external forms are reflections of their symmetrical internal
arrangement of atoms. When a beam of X-rays is passed through a crystal
a regular diffraction pattern can be recorded in film (Fig. 5) and mathematical
analysis of this pattern using a knowledge of the arrangements of groups
in space allows the structure of the crystal to be determined.
Escher, however, in a sense extended the theory of crystallographic groups
beyond Fedorov's 17 by using "through artistic intuition" (Coxeter;
Macgillavry) the added principle of colour sym¼metry.
It is interesting to speculate as to how art historians and critics will
eventually judge Escher's work. If one is to assess him on the basis
of his images such as "Stars" (a 1948 wood-engraving) then
one would interpret his vision as that of a mathematically ordered, harmonious
universe, or a neo-Platonic approach similar to that of Kepler. One wonders
what William Blake would have made of it. Yet Escher himself tended to
characterise
mankind as "feeling people" (most artists) and "thinking
people" (rationalists or scientists). There seems little doubt that
he saw himself as belonging to the former group.
Is Escher merely a clever draughtsman using an intuitive grasp of mathematics
to weave his intricate and sometimes surrealistic patterns; or is he
a great artist, a genius in his own field? The quintessence of cubism
is its presentation of contradictory cues (Gombrich). On this basis Escher
can be allied, in much of his work, with the cubists.
Before considering the other side of the coin so to speak, that is art
without discernible sym¼metry, or anomorphic art, it is worth looking
briefly at a phenomenon which flourished briefly during the Renaissance
- that of intarsia.
INTARSIA
Cut velvet brocade. Persian; early 17th century. Victoria and Albert
museum (from Read with permission of the publisher).
Norman mosaic in Palermo; 12th century (from Scientific
American, 1970, Vol. 223, N°2, p. 111, with permission of the publisher).
Intarsia uses the technique of wood inlay or marquetry. In Florence in
1478 there were 84 workshops where it was the main activity. It was regarded
for a short while as the pinnacle of artistic achievement (Tormey & Tormey).
The intarsiatori were masters of perspective who delighted in fully exploiting
the theory of perspective to represent the three-dimensional world on
two-dimensional wooden panels. Polyhe¼drons were frequently represented
- again an influence of the Platonic Dialogues, particularly the Timaeus,
which outlined Pythagorean cosmology. The practice declined precipitously
in the early 16th century possibly as a result of Vasari's judgement
that it did no more than counterfeit painting; and Michelangelo's castigation
that attempts to put art on a mathematical and perspective basis were
of no use to a man "without the eye".
ANAMORPHIC ART
Both symmetry or its absence are, in a sense, grist to the mill as far
as creative art is con¼cerned. While intarsia flowered briefly, another
off-shoot of the understanding of the laws of per¼spective, anamorphosis
(without form), developed. I will mention only one example here although
many anamorphic paintings, both plane, cylindrical and conical exist.
The famous painting by Hans Holbein, `The Ambassadors', 1553 contains
an anamorphic skull which when viewed on the slant is reconstituted.
As can be imagined, because of its element of concealment and artifice
anamorphic images have been popular in erotic art. Although anamorphic
art is a technical curiousity it has been introduced here as a deliberate
counterweight to the em¼phasis on highly symmetrical structures. Yet
oddly, in a way, "for Jean Cocteau it was in the corridors of a
cylindrical anamorphosis, like the Labyrinths of Knossos, that no mans
land where poetry and science meet was situated" (Baltrusaitis).
ART AND NATURE THUS ALLIED
In Gilbert and Sullivan's "Mikado" they go to make Yum-Yum
a pretty bride. By contrast there is the anecdote about Whistler who
completed a portrait for a wealthy client who was dissatisfied. "I
really think, Mr. Whistler", he said, "that is a bad work of
art". Whistler shrugged and looked coolly at the man. He said, "But
you must admit that you're not a good work of nature".
While both artists and scientists have each sought inspiration in nature
the uneasy relationship between the two long predates C.P. Snow's "Two
Cultures". Snow in his Rede Lectures ("The Two Cultures")
recounts his irritation on frequently hearing how illiterate scientists
are. Eventually at a gathering he was stung to ask how many present knew
the second law of thermodynamics "The response" he says "was
cold - it was also negative".
Despite this sort of public teasing which artists and scientists indulge
it is my belief that their creative activities have much in common. The
two poles of Escher's and anamorphic art are facets of man's endeavour
to explore and probe to the very limits of his capabilities. Read has
said that art depends for its value on some interpretation of life and
scientists too are struggling with the same problems, albeit from a vantage
perhaps less personally expressive.
Science can offer many new ways and perspectives for us to see things.
Famous images such as an instantaneous photograph of a splash of milk
by Edgerton of MIT, and others such as field-ion photomicrographs of
metals or light patterns form a swinging pendulum (see for example 'Photog¼raphy
as a Tool', Time-Life Inc.) present many possibilities for artistic creativity.
These images may not be art; indeed, I am sure it will be argued that
they certainly are not art, but they are beautiful and offer new vision
and inspiration to artists.
Plato, one feels, would have delighted in the radiolarian forms (Fig.
6). These approximate the five regular polyhedra as well as the sphere
and semi-regular solids known as deltahedra (Gardner, 1978). In his great
classic On Growth and Form (1917) D'Arcy Thompson, describes (p. 695)
radi¼olarian skeletons as being "of quite extraordinary delicacy
and complexity ... and these complex conformations have a wonderful and
unusual appearance of geometric regularity. All these general considerations
seem such as to prepare us for some physical hypothesis of causation.
The little skeletons remind us of such things as snow crystals (themselves
almost endless within diversity), rather than a collection of animals
... Nevertheless, great efforts have been made to attach a 'bio¼logical
meaning' to these elaborate structures ...". Here we have another
example of the pervasiveness of the Plantonic influence.
Both Kepler (1611) and Cassini (1600) (Fig. 7) had studied the form and
structure of snow flake crystals which, although all based on hexagonal
symmetry, show no two ever alike.
Sky & Water (from “M.C. Escher, 29 Master Prints”, Harry
N. Abrams Inc. New York, 1983, with permission of the publisher).
Day & Night (from “M.C. Escher, 29 Master Prints”, Harry
N. Abrams Inc. New York, 1983, with permission of the publisher).
X-ray diffraction pattern of a beryl crystal (from “Photography
as a Tool”, Time-Life Inc., 1972, p. 77, with permission of the
publisher.
Radiolaria drawings by Haeckel from his monograph on the radiolarian
from the Challenger expedition of 1872-76 (from Gardner, M., 1978, with
permission of the publisher).
Volvox is one of the most beautiful aquatic algae. To see under the microscope,
these tiny green spheres, revolving slowly through the water is delightful.
Volvox has a topological problem, however. It reproduces asexually by
invagination and nipping off daughter colonies which grow and rupture
the parent. The process of invagination would place the flagellae on
the inside of the sphere of the daughter colony. This was a source of
bafflement until Mary Pocock, in the thirties, showed the immature colonies
inverting like a mathematical torus swallowing itself. They do this after
the 16-cell stage usually when the young colony is a hollow sphere but
one in which there is a small opening (phialopore) at one pole (Smith).
Not all highly symmetrical living forms are aquatic or microscopical;
Spaerotherium, the pill¼millipede and the armadillo can roll themselves
into nearly perfect spheres as defensive postures (see for example, Lawrence,
p. 98). These all have something in common with Escher's hypothetical
beast Pedalternorotandomovens centroculatus articulosus (Fig. 8) which
can
roll like a wheel when it wants to.
The beautiful double helix of DNA has replaced the familiar planetary
model of the atom of Niels Bohr as the symbol of science, yet as Bronowski
shows (p. 20) in a computer graphic display on how to draw a chalice
and the DNA spiral there are symmetry analogies going back to the Renaissance.
The Golden Section underlies much of the compositional structure of western
art, and the Fi¼bonacci series and logarithmic spirals occur in art,
mathematics, and nature as was lovingly pointed out by D'Arcy Thompson.
More recently it has been shown (Dixon) that the florets of a sunflower
- and many other plants - grow in spiral patterns that are fundamentally
linked to the theory of numbers and the golden ratio (r : 1 where T =
1.618034 ... ).
SYMMETRY IN PRIMITIVE ART
Gombrich in his authoritative book Art & Illusion, notes (p. 23)
that the primitive artist and the child tend to represent the human form
frontally, horses in profile, and lizards from above. These representations
tend frequently to be the most symmetrical, in which the bilateral symmetry
of most vertebrates is emphasised, and much so called "primitive" art
does, in fact, reflect this symmetry, although by no means all (Fig.
9).
The substrate of primitive art, if it is symmetrical itself, often seems
to impose itself on the form of the decoration; for example, decoration
of the human body is usually symmetrical, so too are decorations on carved
representations of the human body; carved trees, and gate posts and so
on. (Berndt, Pl. 12; 68; Gardner, H., p. 19, Pl. 22-1).
One should beware of a simplistic interpretation or explanation of primitive
art, though, as decorations frequently have a totemic significance not
apparent to our analytical eye.
Snow crystals by Kepler (1611) and Cassini (1600) (from D’Arcy
Thompson, On Growth & Form, Vol. II, p. 696, with permission of the
publisher).
CONCLUSION
In conclusion I have tried to cover an impossibly large subject. Aldous
Huxley in his collection of essays The Human Situation says (p. 182)
that man, in general, has an urge to order and an urge to meaning. I
agree; I see these as compulsions with ancient roots. Perhaps the former,
the urge to
order, is linked in a broad sense with the scientific tradition of describing,
categorising, experiment¼ing; and, since no amount of science is ever
likely to provide meaning in a spiritually comforting way, the urge to
meaning can be equated with the activity of creative art.
My theme then is that there is a universality in the aesthetic appreciation
of geometrical and symmetrical form which historically is pervasive in
art; but that artistic creation extends beyond the mere recording of
what is visually beautiful and regular in nature to the personal vision
and inter¼pretation of a Leonardo, a Blake, a Picasso. But, nonetheless,
there is profit where science can show new perspectives, tools, and ways
of seeing. For example, the traditional craftsman using the computer
could nowadays draw his designs for intarsia with greater ease and flexibility
than his Renaissance counterpart. Perhaps this sort of wedding could
produce a rebirth of skills long neglected. This is not to distract from
the genius of former times - on the contrary. We should always be open
to new ideas, tools and techniques. In stagnation lies creative death.
I have not touched on symmetry in music. Mozart, I have read (Gardner,
M., 1965), wrote a canon with a second melody that was the first one
both backwards and upside down so that two players could read the same
notes from opposite sides of the sheet; and Bach's palindromic canons
were used for contrapuntal effect.
I started by saying that symmetry is not a trivial matter and indeed
it isn't. Telling left from right is a problem for some people (which
can be hazardous when receiving directions in a motor vehicle from someone
who has this problem). Also, distinguishing handedness has been the subject
of psychological investigation which has shown the difficulty children
have discriminating between b & d and p & q (Corballis & Beale).
The great Helmholtz is said to have been largely "left-right blind".
If you remain unconvinced after all this fold your arms and now quickly
fold them the other way! Its not easy without deliberation. These arm-folds
are mirror images that are not superimpos¼able.
Looking glasses are so familiar to us we seldom realise their subtleties.
Why for example does a mirror reverse left and right but not up and down?
Trace the outline of your face in the misty bathroom mirror and you will
be surprised how small it is - half the size of your real face, and,
what is more the mirror image that looks back at you is not the one the
rest of the world sees. To see yourself as others see you look into two
mirrors at right angles. Now, having recovered from the surprise of seeing
someone who is somehow strangely different from the familiar "you",
slowly rotate the two mirrors through 90° and watch yourself turn
upside down!
There is fun in mirrors, handedness and symmetry. One could claim that
symmetry has fasci¼nated man since Adam said to Eve: "Madam, I'm
Adam", to which she promptly replied, "Eve". Had her name
been Iris no doubt she would have said "Sir, I'm Iris". The
name of a common Japanese make of car misses being a palindrome only
through lacking the letter "A" in front of it. There is also
the publication of the San Diego Zoological Society, "ZOONOOZ" -
a palindrome which also remains unchanged when turned upside down. Another
is the year 1691, attributed with magical powers in Robert Graves' poem
(Parker), which begins:
The Two Witches
O. sixteen hundred and ninety one, Never was year so well begun, Backsy-forsy
and inside-out,
The best of all years to ballad about.
A final example of things, that like Alice's looking glass images, "go
the other way": "Lines that are parallel meet at Infinity"
Euclid repeatedly, heatedly, urged. Until he died,
and so reached that vicinity: in it he
found that the damned things diverged.
Piet Hein, Grooks VI.
Escher’s curl-up animal (from Gardner, M., 1978, with permission
of the publisher).
Bookplate illustration of goannas (from “Australian Aboriginal
art”, ed. Ronald M. Berndt, Ure Smith, Sydney, 1964, with permission
of the publisher).
REFERENCES
BALTRUSAITIS, J., 1969. Anamorphic Art'. (Harry N. Abrams Inc.: New York).
BERNDT, Ronald M., ed., 1964. `Australian Aboriginal Art' (Collier-Macmillan:
London). BRONOWSKI, J., 1973. `The Ascent of Man'. (BBC: London).
CORBALLIS, Michael C. and BEALE, Ivan L., 'On Telling Left from Right',
Scientific American, 1971, Vol. 224, No. 3, p. 96.
COXETER, H.S.M., 1971. `The World of M.C. Escher'. (Meulenhoff & Co.,
bv: Amsterdam). DIXON, Robert, 'The Mathematical Daisy', New Scientist,
1981, Dec., p. 792.
GARDNER, Helen, 1975. 'Art Throught the Ages', 6th edn. (Harcourt Brace
Jovanovich, New York). GARDNER, Martin, 1965. 'Mathematical Puzzles & Diversions'.
(Pelican Books: Middlesex). GARDNER, Martin, 'Mathematical Games', Scientific
American, 1978, Vol. 238, Nol. 6, p. 18. GLASSER, L. 'Teaching Symmetry',
J. Chem. Education, 1967, Vol. 44, No. 9, p. 502).
GOMBRICH, E.H., 1960. 'Art & Illusion, A Study in the Psychology
of Pictorial Representation'. (Pantheon Books: New York).
HUXLEY, Aldous, 1978. 'The Human Situation, Lectures at Santa Barbara,
1959'. (Chatto & Windus: Lon¼don).
LAWRENCE, R.F., 1963. 'The Biology of the Cryptic Fauna of Forests'.
(A.A. Balkema: Cape Town). MACGILLAVRY, Caroline H., 1965. 'Symmetry
Aspects of M.C. Escher's Periodic Drawings'. (Published for the International
Union of Crystallography by A. Oosthoek's Uitgeversmaatschappij NV, Utrecht).
PARKER, E.W., selected by, 1971. 'Discovering Poetry 1', 2nd edn. (Longman:
London).
READ, H., 1936. 'The Meaning of Art', 2nd edn. (Faber & Faber: London).
SMITH, Gilbert M., 1950. 'The Fresh-water Algae of the United States',
2nd edn. (McGraw-Hill).
TEUBER, M.L., 'Sources of Ambiguity in the Prints of Maurits C. Escher',
Scientific American, 1974, Vol. 231, No. 1, p. 90.
THOMPSON, D'Arcy W., 1917. 'On Growth and Form'. (Cambridge University
Press: Cambridge). TORMEY, A. and TORMEY, Judith Farr., 'Renaissance
Intarsia: The Art of Geometry', Scientific American, 1982, Vol. 247,
No. 1, p.116.
3. ORIGINS OF THE GREAT DIVORCE - SCIENCE AND ART Dr
B. Chiswell, Scientist, Senior Lecturer in Chemistry and in the History
of Science, Univer¼sity
of Queensland, Hon. Secretary, Royal Society of Queensland.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony
rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images,
where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket
no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water.
from The Wasteland (Eliot 1922).
Down what long road had Western society travelled by 1922 to arrive at
this agony of T.S. Eliot? What was the rottenness that he saw at the
core of the modern technological/scientific soci¼ety?
The historian is concerned not with the rights and wrongs of society,
but with the accurate description of the road travelled by society. But
such description can never be a simple objective task; understanding
of the past requires subjective empathy with the travellers on the road;
for history is a study not simply of a collection of facts, but of facticity
in relationship to definite individuals and groups of individuals.
In the following discussion I will not deal with the minutiae of history,
but will take a broad general view of how a very large group of individuals,
namely Western Society, has, since the 17th century, changed its view
of Nature. My composition will demonstrate how such a change has led
to the Divorce of Science from Aesthetics and Art.
Let me acknowledge some sources for my views and some steps in the development
of such views.
Firstly, T.S. Eliot delineates most clearly the agony of modern man in
a mechanistic universe. Secondly, George Kubler's "The Shape of
Time" (Kubler 1962) opened my eyes to a new way of looking at Art
and Art History.
Thirdly, my lectures to students at the University of Queensland on the
History of Science have forced me to study the development of modern
science and of how its commitment to a me¼chanistic view of nature has
been seminal in the growth of our modern technological society. Such
a study, when cast in a human context, quickly demonstrates the divorcement
that arose between the Romantics of the 18th and 19th century and the
Technologists and Scientists of the Industrial Revolution.
From these sources I will proceed to argue the following thesis:
Seventeenth century Western Society perceived science as one of a number
of aesthetic pursuits; it was an art as were music, painting and literature.
All such pursuits were seen as expres¼sions of the prevailing concept
of nature; a concept of an ordered mechanical system (somewhat similar
to a complex clockwork mechanism), grand in its operation and perfect
in its form.
Having established this 17th century viewpoint, I will then move to discuss
the changes wrought in it by the Romantic Revolution of the turn of the
18th into the 19th century. This Revo¼lution was an important manifestation
of a profound readjustment of Western Society's view of Nature; a profound
readjustment associated with one of the greatest Revolutions ever experienced
by mankind - the Industrial Revolution. This change in our view of Nature
has been the major force leading to the divorce between aesthetics and
science.
In their standard work, History of Aesthetics, Gilbert and Kuhn (1953)
state the belief that, since the mid-19th century, aesthetics has narrowed
to cover only the arts of painting and sculpture (and to some extent
architecture). To them, literature appears to have been displaced from
the canons of things beautiful to man, while music, like science, is
not discussed as an aesthetic pur¼suit. Such an approach reduces aesthetics
to the study of some of the visual arts.
We may well not agree that modern aesthetics is as restricted as Gilbert
and Kuhn claim, but within the context of this study it matters little.
The question of relevance to us is not whether literature and music are
aesthetic pursuits, but whether modern-day science is perceived by modern¼day
man as possessing beauty - "that quality or combination of qualities
which affords keen plea¼sure to the senses (especially that of sight)
or which charms the intellectual or moral faculties" (O.E.D. 1959).
I believe that Gilbert and Kuhn are essentially correct in discounting
science as one of the aesthetic pursuits of modern man. Let me hasten
to add that I am not claiming that scientists today
do not see beauty in their work, but I am claiming that the great bulk
of humanity do not see modern science as a thing of beauty.
THE MECHANICAL WORLD VIEW OF THE AGE OF REASON
For much of the 17th and 18th century, Britain was in the Augustan period,
otherwise known as the Age of Reason.
Let me refresh your memory with some famous names:
Science Isaac
Newton F.R.S. 1642-1729
Robert Boyle F.R.S. 1627-1691
Architecture Christopher Wren F.R.S. 1632-1723
&
Design Earl of
Burlington 1695-1753
Painters William
Hogarth 1697-1764
Joshua Reynolds R.A. 1722-1792
Thomas Gainsborough R.A. 1727-1788
Writers Joseph
Addison 1672-1719
of Poetry Jonathan
Swift 1667-1745
and Prose Alexander Pope 1688-1744
Daniel Defoe 1660-1731
Joseph Fielding 1707-1754
John Dryden F.R.S. 1631-1700
Samuel Johnson 1709-1784
The most important feature to notice in the work of all these men is
their commitment to the concept of a mechanical universe, to an order
and rationality in both nature and in man. Pope's (1956) epitaph to Newton
sums up the coalsecence of views between literature and science:
" Nature and Nature's Laws lay hid in Night God said Let Newton be! and
all was light. or consider Johnson's (1759) Rasselas:
" The business of the poet ... is to examine, not the individual but the
species; to remark general properties and large appearances. He does
not number the streaks of a tulip, or describe the different shades in
the verdue of the forest"
As the President of the Royal Academy (of Art) Sir Joshua Reynolds (1769)
put it "the genuine painter forswears minutiae for loftiness and
grandeur". The artist must reveal "the perfect state of nature".
The two very famous scientists in my list above, Newton in Physics and
Boyle in Chemistry, described their scientific work in aesthetic terms
consonant with the artistic commitment of their work. Indeed their descriptions
are similar to the aesthetic language used by the other famous men upon
the list. It is well-known, for example, that Newton's major output was
in what we today would call theological writing, but we miss the point
if we assume that Newton had two sides - a Physical and a Theological.
To Newton, as to the Augustans in general, there was a prevailing sense
of beauty which could be seen in the grandeur of order of the mechanical
universe.
Boyle (1772) also described how he was constantly struck with the order
and discipline of God's work whenever "with bold telescopes I survey
the old and newly discovered stars and planets that adorn the upper region
of the world; and when with excellent microscopes, I discern in other¼wise
invisible objects, the unimitable subtility of nature's curious workmanship,
and when in a word, by the help of anatomical knives, and the light of
chymical forces, I study the book of nature ..."
In Faces of Modernity, Calinescu (1977) argues that Western man's concept
of beauty was basically constant from Grecian times through to the end
of the 18th century A.D. He claims that beauty was seen in the harmony
between man and nature (or God) which led to a view of harmony between
all pursuits of man. Whether Calinescu establishes this broad claim is
debateable, but there can be little doubt that he demonstrates the close
correlation of aesthetic approach of the Grae¼co-Roman and the Augustan
periods. In both periods there is a drive to explore the beauty of nature,
and to describe the perceived beauty in terms of the cyclical recurrence
of perfect forms which demonstrate the perfection of the finite mechanical
world.
THE REVOLUTIONARY AGE
In the year 1769 two important British patents were granted. Two patents
for machines that, with their progeny, were to change the face of the
western world. There is no reason to suppose that the registration of
the "births" of Arkwright's waterframe and Watt's separate
condenser (Cardwell 1972) attracted any greater attention than did the
birth of Schleiermacher in the previous year, or of the births of Beethoven
and Wordsworth in the year that followed. Yet all these births were revolutionary
in their outcome. The Industrial and the Romantic Revolutions are indeed
very closely connected.
"
Whatever else is said about the Romantic movement, no one can deny that
it really did hap¼pen. There really was a time in the early 19th century
when to be a Romantic meant more than to be a dreamer or a lovesick youth;
when an artist could accept the name with pride and take it to imply
as the writers Stendahl and Beaudelaire did, that he was courageously
facing the realities of the age" (Vaughan 1978).
It was Schlegel, Professor of Literature and F' e Arts at Jena, who,
in the opening years of the 19th century, is credited with introducing
the word Romantic and with postulating the opposi¼tion of the Romantic
to the Classical. He saw the Romantic as that which emphasised the associa¼tive
(symbolic) side of art, whereas the Classical dwelt on the formal aspects.
But it was Schleiermacher who was in the forefront of the Romantic Revolution
in his attack upon the Classi¼cal God of the Age of Reason. Like Wordsworth,
his God was personally internalized and under¼stood by reference to Nature.
Little surprise that he, like Wordsworth was accused of pantheism when
he attacked Enlightenment theology, calling it "the artifact of
calculating intellect ... (in which) ... everything elapses into callous
argumentation ... (and where) ... even the sublimest sub¼jects are made
pawns of controversy between competing schools of thought" (Schleiermacher,
1821).
Romanticism saw Nature (and God) in terms of individual, highly personal,
concepts of beauty and truth. Such a view was diametrically opposed to
the generalised form of Classicism's concepts of ideal beauty and truth.
The developing aesthetic of the 19th century moved rapidly away from
the societal-wide acceptation of certain artistic forms as being expressions
of beauty, to embrace the idea that beauty was the internalized response
by the individual to artistic material. Thus, to Scho¼penhauer (1819),
art had become a mode of expressing reality, and the more challenging
the indi¼vidual found this reality, the greater was the art.
The attack by the Romantics upon the prevailing concept of God was to
be expected; the Classical view of God was inimical to the Romantic spirit.
As beauty could no longer be found in art which expressed a societal
view of morality, the aesthetics of the 19th century concentrated upon
what made the particular artistic expression beau¼tiful. The idealist
Augustan belief, that beauty was found in art that pointed to moral order,
was discarded, and beauty came to be perceived as existing in the individual's
response to the art object. But science did not partake of this aesthetic
revolution during the 19th century, and, with one important exception,
has still not shifted its philosophical viewpoint. Science was, and still
is in general, committed to a mechanistic, non-personal philosophy. It
believes in the order of Nature, and in the reality that can be understood
by experimentation upon Nature.
Huxley (1869), introducing the opening number of Nature in 1869 revealed
the stance of 19th century (and 20th century) science, when he defined
science as "the progress of that fashioning by Nature of a picture
of herself, in the mind of a man". To science the reality of Nature
imposes its own "picture" upon the mind, and, as the individual
personality plays no part in what constitutes this reality, there can
be only one form of Nature common to the understanding of all men. For
Huxley (1868), "that man ... has had a liberal education ... whose
intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine with all its parts of equal
strength, and in smooth working order." Who can deny the crudi¼ty
of this identification of science with the triumphs of technology?
What a far cry are Huxley's statements from those of Wordsworth (1798)
some seventy years previously, when he so aptly summed the Romantic approach
to Nature in his famous lines:
" And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense
sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light
of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living air, And the blue
sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things"
Tintern Abbey, 1798
Thus, the Romantic Revolution hardened the commitment of science to the
mechanistic tradition. It may be arguable that science could have chosen
to follow the 19th century aesthetic spirit and have cast itself in a
Romantic mode; indeed such modern philosophers of science as Feuerabend
(1978) claim that it should make this transition now; but a new and developing
connection precluded such a choice being made. For, as the Industrial
Revolution progressed, there grew rapidly an ever ex¼panding interdependency
of science and technology (Musson and Robinson 1969).
Although many of the earlier inventions and discoveries of the Industrial
Revolution were basically "seat-of-the-pants" in style, during
the 19th century the scientist and the technologist in¼creasingly cooperated.
The full flowering of such cooperation is obvious in the modern industri¼alised
state. I have distinguished between scientist and technologist, for during
the 19th century, but decreasingly during this century, such a distinction
could be made. Whereas the scientist, like his forebears, studied Nature
to see how it worked, the technologist used the knowledge of how Nature
works to change such workings towards desired industrial goals.
Herein lies the origin of the great divorce. 19th Century aesthetics,
coupled to Romanticism, was based on a philosophy of the importance of
the individual and of the personal understanding of beauty and truth.
On the other hand 19th century science, coupled to technology, was divorced
from the artistic/aesthetic movement of the age and became conjoined
with the work-a-day world of the mechanic turned technologist.
C.P. Snow (1959) became famous, at least in part, for his championing
of the concept of the western world's Two Cultures. His cultures derive,
as we have seen, from the divorce between Classical science and Romantic
aesthetics; a divorce that Snow sees as springing from the very dif¼ferent
educational backgrounds of the Scientist and the Artist.
FORM AND SYMBOL IN ART AND SCIENCE
Form and symbol are concepts which the historian of art and aesthetics
uses when analysing works of art (Kubler 1962). The concepts are not
always readily separable in art, because the unity of work can make such
arbitary, critical constructs meaningless. Nevertheless, because generalised
concepts are essential for any verbal discussion, the terms have found
wide acceptance.
Form is the technique and the materials used in the work of art. The "formal" way
in which materials are used to express shapes and relationships; the
functional method whereby meaning and feeling are imparted to the work.
Symbol is the meaning and feeling in the work. The perspective of reality
offered and created by the form that has been used.
Kubler (1962) claims that Cassirer's definition of art as being "symbolic
language" has domi¼nated modern art studies; the Romantic aesthetic
has dealt with symbolic meaning as distinct from Classical form. It is
of very great interest to note that while aesthetics has dwelt upon symbol,
science and technology have increasingly concentrated upon form to the
exclusion of symbolic meaning. As Eliot (1934) pointed out nearly half
a century ago, there was no meaning for science and technology within
the then current aesthetic ethos.
" The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment,
Brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness, Knowledge of speech,
but not of silence;
All our knowledge brings us nearer to our ignorance, All our ignorance
brings us nearer to death,
But nearness to death, no nearer to God"
from Choruses from `The Rock" 1934
In the aftermath of Romanticism, Western man began to look at Nature
with the Romantic precept of seeing beauty with his own eyes. What he
saw was Nature transformed by industrializa¼tion, and like that great
prophet William Blake he disliked the "dark Satanic mills" of
the trans¼formation.
REFERENCES
BLAKE, William, Milton (preface). BOYLE, R., 1772. Works, Vol. 1, p.
167. CARDWELL, D.S.L., 1973. Technology, Science & History, Heinemann.
CALINESCU, M., 1977. Faces of Modernity, Indiana Univ. Press. ELIOT,
T.S., 1922. The Waste Land, Faber & Faber.
ELIOT, T.S., 1934. Choruses from `The Rock', Faber & Faber. FEYERABEND,
P., 1978. Science in a Free Society, New Left Books. GILBERT, K.E. and
KUHN, H., 1953. A History of Aesthetics, Dover. HUXLEY, T.H., 1868. A
Liberal Education, see Science & Education, undated, p. 80. HUXLEY,
T.H., 1869. Nature, Vol. 1, see The Popular Science Monthly, 1872, pp.
113-115. JOHNSON, S., 1759. Rasselas, Oxford, 1927.
KUBLER, G., 1962. The Shape of Time, Yale Univ. Press.
MUSSON, A.E. and ROBINSON, E., 1969. Science and Technology in the Industrial
Revolution, Manchester Univ. Press.
POPE, A., (date unknown), Intended for Sir Isaac Newton in Westminster
Abbey, quoted in Penguin Book of English Verse, 1956.
REYNOLDS, J., 1769. Discourses, Dent.
SCHLEIERMACHER, F., 1821. On Religion, trans. T.N. Tice, John Knox Press,
1969, p. 55. SCHOPENHAUER, A., 1819. The World as Will and Idea, trans.
Haldane and Kemp, 8th Edn., 1937. SNOW, C.P., 1959. The Two Cultures
and the Scientific Revolution, Cambridge Univ. Press. VAUGHAN, W., 1978.
Romantic Art, Thames and Hudson, London.
WORDSWORTH, W., 1798. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey,
on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour, July 13, 1798.
4. THE THRILL OF DISCOVERY
Dr. J.E.O Hagan, Research
Scientist and Public Relations Consultant; Hon. Secretary, Queensland
Division, ANZAAS,
Principal, John E. O'Hagan, Public Relations Consultancy.
ABSTRACT
Compared with the vast scientific literature published, there are but
few records of the emotional experiences of scientists related to their
discoveries.
Examination of the available reports however, mainly in biographies and
letters, re¼veals the often great ecstatic responses on the making of,
or confirmation of, new discover¼ies, amounting to a state not unlike
that attained in some recorded religious experiences.
There appear to be an even less number of reports on the feelings of
artists about their work. Perhaps they are content to have it revealed
in the work itself, which relies so much on emotional response. Technologists
appear to be even more reticent in sharing their responses.
However the available evidence reveals a common bond between all three
practitioners of intense feeling about their work which could form a
basis for mutual appreciation and co-operation.
"
EUREKA! EUREKA!!" - "I've found it! I've got it!!" To
discover - to behold the new, to be where no one has been before, to
find enlightenment where there has been darkness - is one of the most
overwhelmingly satisfying experiences a human can enjoy.
Archimedes, the celebrated physicist and mathematician of Ancient Greece,
had been commis¼sioned by King Hieron II to report on his new elaborate
crown which he had ordered to be fashioned of pure gold. Hieron suspected
the metal was a gold-silver alloy but how could this be proved?
Archimedes must have pondered at length on the problem. He knew the alloy,
if such it was, would have a different specific gravity from pure gold,
but how could he calculate this without melting the crown and casting
to a shape of regular geometric form to determine the volume?
He was musing on this problem as he went to the public baths. Lying in
the water, he suddenly realised the significance of the rise in the level
of the water in the bath - it represented the in¼creased volume of the
contents due to his submerged body. He could find the volume of the intri¼cate
crown in the same way!!
Without concern for clothing, Archimedes is reported to have rushed home
from the baths shouting - "EUREKA! EUREKA!!", no doubt to try
an experiment to test his hypothesis. The metal in the crown turned out
to be an alloy and the jeweller was executed, sad to say.
Hieron II is little remembered, but every schoolchild on first encounter
with science will ob¼serve the experiment of Archimedes using an irregular
body suspended in water, and deduce his Principle of Buoyancy - that
a body immersed in a fluid loses as much weight as the weight of fluid
displaced.
Not only is this the first record of non-destructive scientific analysis,
so common today, but also the first of innumerable times when science
has come to the aid of the law and of art in detecting falsehood.
But to get back to Archimedes - his most powerful emotions of surprise
and delight at his solution of the problem completely overruled his other
natural reaction to cover his body.
Such detachment is, of course, not confined to scientists. The novelist
J.B. Priestley expresses it so succinctly in his book "Delight" -
" The coming of the Idea. There is nothing piecemeal about its arrival.
It comes as the ancient gods and goddesses must have manifested themselves
to their more fortunate worshippers. (And indeed it comes from the same
place.) At one moment the mind knows it not. The next it is there, taking
full possession of the mind, which quivers in ecstatic surrender. - Lord,
let me live to welcome again with all the old abandon, not knowing whether
I am dressing or undressing, whether it is Tuesday morning or Friday
evening, the sunburst of the Idea!"
And apparently Priestley concurred with Albert Einstein's statement that
- "All religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree."
In the scientific literature as we generally know it, it is impossible
to find evidence of the emotional responses of the discoverer; he and
his editors carefully eliminate them. This is quite proper, since scientific
results should rest on knowledge, not feelings. So we have to go to biogra¼phies
and letters of scientists to find evidence of the excitement of discovery.
Thus Einstein - mistakenly thought by many to have been cold and impersonal
- having waited for many long
years for tangible proof of his theory expressed his suppressed emotions
when other scientists found that refined measurements of the motion of
the Planet Mercury confirmed his mathematics. He wrote, according to
Hoffman, -
" But the years of anxious searching in the dark, with their intense longing,
their alterna¼tions of confidence and exhaustion, and the final emergence
into the light - only those who have themselves experienced it can understand
that."
To his friend Paul Ehrenfest he wrote -
" Imagine my joy at the feasibility of the general covariance and at the
result that the equations yield the correct perihelion motion of Mercury.
I was beside myself with ecstacy for days."
Perhaps no wonder - he had succeeded the immortal Isaac Newton! Some
of this excitement of new discovery is conveyed by Bickel's report of
the first experimental use of penicillin, purified by the biochemist
Ernst Chain and injected into white mice previously infected with haemolytic
streptococci, of the type which causes childbirth fever and death.
" On the Sunday morning Florey stood in the laboratory with the evidence
of success be¼fore him. Four white mice lay still and dead in the bottom
of the cage. The other four were still living, and only one, which had
had a single, minute injection, looked unwell. - Florey was joined by
his two colleagues. Chain was thrilled and almost dancing with excitement;"
Edward Derrick, whose work led to the founding of the Queensland Institute
of Medical Re¼search, sought assistance from Macfarlane Burnet in identifying
an organism causing a typhoid-like illness in abattoir workers in Brisbane.
Derrick had developed a technique for specific diagnosis of the-disease
by studying the immunological response of guinea-pigs injected with blood
from the patient, but had not characterised the infecting organism. Burnet
injected mice with the organism and sectioned and stained their spleens.
Sections, according to Burnet -
" to our imense pleasure contained large numbers of tiny rods staining
in the typical fashion of rickettsias. There was no shadow of doubt:
we had identified the agent of `abattoirs fever'. Derrick and I were
both delighted - "
As well they might, since the disease was a widely-spread one throughout
the world and here was the knowledge to diagnose, and suggest treatment
for it. It is commonly referred to as Q fever. Louis Pasteur wrote, according
to Vallery-Radot, -
" When you have at last arrived at certainty, your joy is one of the greatest
that can be felt by a human soul."
Eve Curie related her mother's description of the parent's visit to their
dingy laboratory after the children had been put to bed -
" "Don't light the lamps!" Marie said in the darkness. Then she
added with a little laugh: Do you remember the day you said to me: "I
should like radium to have a beautiful colour?"
The reality was more entrancing than the simple wish of long ago. Radium
had some¼thing better than "a beautiful colour": it was spontaneously
luminous. And in the sombre shed, where, in the absence of cupboards,
the precious particles in their tiny glass receivers were placed on tables
or on shelves nailed to the wall, their phosphorescent bluish outlines
gleamed, suspended in the night.
"
Look ... Look!" the young woman murmured. - Their two faces turned
towards the pale glimmering the mysterious sources of radiation, towards
radium - their radium. - She was to remember forever this evening of
glow-worms, this magic."
Charles Darwin had an experience of enlightenment of similar impact -
" I can remember the very spot on the road, whilst in my carriage, when
to my joy the solution occurred to me."
Peter Kropotkin also expressed this feeling of transcendence -
" He who has once in his life experienced this joy of scientific creation
will never forget it."
An when the desired successful experiment or the required inspiration
does not come, the scientist can experience similar emotional feelings
of despair to what St. John of the Cross referred, in a religious context,
as "the dark night of the soul". But when the desired results
flow, the soul is back in grace and as Claude Bernard tell us -
" The joy of discovery is certainly the liveliest that the mind of man
can ever feel."
I have dealt mainly with scientists in this discussion, but I am sure
these feelings are shared by artists and technologists as well. My literature
search, although by no means a complete one, re¼vealed that they seem
less inclined to express
their feelings in writing. Artsitic expression is that of the emotions
anyway, and perhaps artists are happy just to have their joy expressed
in their work. Technologists are "doers" rather than writers,
and perhaps they are content to convey their thrils by having their work "shine
in use".
All three groups are capable of much more intense concentration on their
activities than the public at large, and this I believe, is partly why
they would appear to have much greater rewards emotionally. But is this
all they share, and is this not a reason why they should engage in more
mutual appreciation? Perhaps there is more.
C.P. Snow, a scientist as well as a creative writer, in his novel "The
Search", describes the emotions of a physical chemist when his results
were confirmed by another -
" Then I was carried beyond pleasure ... as though all the world, the atoms
and the stars, were wonderfully close to me, and I to them, so that we
were part of a lucidity more closer than any mystery.
I had never known such a moment could exist. ... Since then I have never
quite re¼gained it. But one effect will stay with me as long as I live;
once, when I was young, I used to sneer at the mystics who have described
the experience of being one with God and part of the unity of things.
After that afternoon, I did not want to laugh again; for al¼though I
should have interpreted the experience differently, I thought I knew
what they meant."
We need both the scientist and the artist to describe this Oneness, this
Unity. Newton's Principle of Universal Gravitation - "Every particle
of matter in the Universe is attracted to every other particle of matter
with a force inversely proportional to the square of their distances" -
beautiful though it is, needs Francis Thompson's poetry to complement
and extend it -
" All things by imortal power, Near or far,
Hiddenly
To each other linked are,
That thou canst not stir a flower Without troubling of a star;"
And Newton would not have been able to make his observations without
the help of technolo¼gists to prepare the materials for his instruments!
Long before Newton, during the Middle Ages when science and technology
were still classed as "art", and Leonardo could practice in
all three, St. Francis of Assisi made this statement -
" He who works with his hands is a labourer,
He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman,
He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist."
We should all aspire to be "artists" of one form or another,
and having experienced the thrill of discovery ourselves, may also be
able to shout - "Eureka! Eureka!!"
REFERENCES
ASIMOV, I., 1978. Asimov's Biographical Encylopedia of Science and Technology.
(David and Charles: Lon¼don).
BERNARD, C., 1865. An Introduction to the Study of Experimental Medicine
(English translation). 1927. (Macmillan: New York).
BICKEL, L., 1972. Rise Up to Life. (Angus and Robertson: Sydney).
BURNET, M., 1968. Changing Patterns: an Atypical Autobiography. (Sun:
Melbourne). CURIE, E., 1938. Marie Curie. Translated by V. Sheean. (Heinemann:
London). DARWIN, F., 1888. Life and Letters of C. Darwin. (John Murray:
London).
EINSTEIN, A., 1950. "Moral Decay", in Out of My Later Years.
(Philosophical Library: New York). FRANCIS OF ASSISI, St. n.d. Quoted
by J. Burton in Glass; Philosophy and Method. 1969. (Pitman: Lon¼don).
HOFFMANN, B., 1973. Albert Einstein Creator and Rebel. With the collaboration
of H. Dukas. (Hart-Davis, MacGibbon: London).
KROPOTKIN, P., n.d. Quoted by W.I.B. Beveridge in The Art of Scientific
Investigation. 1961. (Vintage: New • York).
PRIESTLEY, J.B., 1949. Delight. (Heinemann: Melbourne). SNOW, C.P., 1958.
The Search. (Macmillan: London). THOMPSON, F., 1937. Part of "The
Mistress of Vision" in The Poems of Francis Thompson. (Oxford: Lon¼don).
VALLERY-RADOT, R., 1948. Life of Pasteur. (Constable: London).
I am grateful to the above-mentioned publishers for permission to reproduce
material from their books.
5. Opening and viewing of Display ART IN SCIENCE AND SCIENCE IN ART su¼pervised
by Mr. Nigel Sabine, Curator, Civic Art Gallery and Musium, Li¼brary,
City Hall.
Presentation of artwork to Civic Art Gallery and Museum.
Session III Technology
1. Computer Controlled Electronic Musical Instruments demonstrated by
Mr. Colin Timms, Tutor in Recording Techniques and Electronic Music,
Queens¼land Conservatorium of Music.
2. "IS DESIGN ART?" - Mr Michael Bryce, Architect and Graphic
Designer; Principal, Bryce Design Consultants, Federal President, Design
Institute of Australia.
PREAMBLE
My contribution to today's symposium falls within the section on Technology
and I would like you to see the irony of this when I will be attempting
to explode a myth that is held to the bosom of every 'young' designer
graduate - at least in my spectrum of knowledge.
I am here at the invitation of your Scientific Convenor, Dr. John O'Hagan,
with whom I have had several interesting discussions on the interface
between art and technolo¼gy¼
It has led me to the terrible realisation that my past 20 years of practice
as a designer, during which I have strenuously denied the existence of
anything as bourgeois as ART in my design philosophy, have been a lie.
I stand here - a born again artist!
But unless you take this too literally, I will explain my realisation
in a more sequential
way.
A definition of 'art' and 'design' cannot be attempted without an analysis
of past and present values, perceptions and lifestyles; the influence
of major art movements and the realities of an industrialised society.
There is a viewpoint that design is the logical pregression from primitive
expressionism or 'art'; that the prevalence of artistic expression for
its own sake has given way to functionalism; that design is art made
functional.
In a consumer society it would be difficult to ignore the influence of
the marketplace. Both art and design are treated as commodities for sale.
The relationship between art and design, once dis¼tanced, has reached
a point of convergence. Traditional definitions of art which once only
acknowl¼edged the stereotype (paintings, sculpture etc.) now acknowledges
the machine age. Automobiles, home appliances, and tools, may now be
seen as art forms. At the same time, items that were once purely designed
for a function are now being used as vehicles for artistic expression.
Firstly, by defining design and then by looking for the art in it and
by a few illustrations proposing that there is a very shaky road to design
through art, but a firmer road to art through design.
This will mean a few definitions.
Sir Misha Black, Head of the Royal College of Art, arguably Britain's
foremost design school, and a lifetime advocate of function over form
said in 1970 (Black, 1970).
" All objects contain formal or aesthetic qualities. This is obvious enough
in the craft-based industries. In the ancient crafts of ceramics, textile
weaving and printing, glass blowing and so on, the relationship between
aesthetics and production is as old as the history of man. The new element
which causes much argument and some confusion, is the relationship of
aesthetics or art to the products of the light and heavy engineering
industries - To the design of a television set or radar electronic equipment,
electrical sub-stations and sewing machines, refrigerators and machine
tools."
Black, himself an architect, lashed back at that tenet of engineers.
Form inexorably follows function, and thus a solely scientific or technological
approach to engineering produces forms which are visually so satisfactory
as to eliminate the need for conscious aesthetic endeavour.
This he counters with the argument that society is filled with useful
objects which far from being aesthetically pleasing actually destroy
the "pleasures of city life" and set too low standards for
the developing countries.
The late Oscar Faber said in 1944 (in a paper delivered to the British
Institution of Civil Engi¼neers) (Black, 1970).
" The fallacy, which is very widely held, is that if a structure is honestly
designed to satisfy all its scientific or engineering requirements it
will of necessity be beautiful ... all I can say is that I wish it were
true, because most engineers can design a structure scientifically with
a constant factor of safety in all its component parts, and if that were
a guarantee that the result would be beautiful, the problem would indeed
be a simple one. Unfortunately, all that one can say about it is that
such
a structure may by chance be beautiful, but it will only be by chance".
I shall not bore you with a historical dissertation. It is enough to
say that industrial design as it exists today springs from two sources.
The first is the Arts and Crafts movement of the past centu¼ry based
on the theory and practice of William Morris in the second half of the
19th century. This led eventually to the establishment of the Bauhaus
in Germany in 1919; the influence of that great school still reverberates
throughout the world.
The second source is a group of American designers (Black, 1970, p.37)
who, in the great slump of the later 1920s, demonstrated that industrial
design could be a major factor in increasing the sales of specific products
even in an economic situation when total sales were catastrophically
reduced. Today industrial design is an established profession on an international
basis. The Interna¼tional Council of Societies of Industrial Design (ICSID)
federates 50 societies and councils of industrial design in 32 countries,
from USA to Japan, the USSR to Great Britain, Norway to Czechoslovakia,
Argentina to Australia. The federated societies have 12,000 members of
which 8,¼000 are professional designers.
The ICSID definition states:
" Industrial design is a creative activity whose aim is to determine the
formal qualities of ob¼jects produced by industry. These formal qualities
are not only the external features but principally those structural and
functional relationships which convert a system to a coherent unity both
from the point of view of the producer and the user."
There are many other definitions such as:
"
Industrial design is the design of artifacts intended for production
by industrial processes and in which the aesthetic and other human factors
play a significant role".
In Australia, Design is seen to cover the broad spectrum of made to useful
objects, fashion design being one of the more desirous claimants. It
is the Design leader, but interior and exhibition design and graphic
design are obvious contenders.
The highly technical pursuit of Imagery, in the form of film, television
and theatre design, are also seen as broadly subjective and art based.
Products and machinery such as motor vehicles and appliances easily fit
the Bill as Design in the technological sense.
The Design Institute of Australia defines 3 major categories of Designer.
These are: Graphic
Product (or industrial), and Interior
Within each of these headings, there are vast ranges of differences in
the objective or function¼al response and the subjective or decorative
response.
Some would say that it is possible to grade the level of design in a
progressive "Monkey to Man" - scale.
Were this true - it would make life for the designer a lot simpler.
" You want a product so you get a solution! Never mind fashion, the marketplace,
packaging, cost, consumer persuasions, value judgments, corporate personality
and so on.
The fact is that each object has a variable degree of creative and problem
solving decisions. Take for example a simple spoon may be treated as
an art form with the most simple function, to scoop.
Or it can be highly tooled to make an ergonomic solution fitting the
hand, the mouth and the content.
Thus a spoon can take many forms and still work as a spoon.
On the other hand a Camera must express many complex functions as concisely
and objectively as possible - its form follows its function.
Obviously, the more aesthetic and sensory latitude available within a
particular range of design opportunities, the closer they resemble those
offered by the practice of "fine-art". The less latitude, the
closer design becomes to the sciences, and to fields in which the margin
of aesthetic "choice" is truly marginal. The design of a traffic
light system has an aesthetic component, but it would need a very special
definition of aesthetics to embrace the many determining factors that
must finally settle the design outcome.
That there is a relationship between this form and art is the point I
will make further on.
A definition of Art cannot be attempted without an analysis of past and
present values, per¼ceptions and changing social patterns.
But let me highlight some of the major influences on design.
The Flemish School of Painting in the C12-13 perfected technical drafting
(Lampitt, 1972).
In this movement, attention to proportion and true perspective assumed
a large proportion of the art. Textures and lighting drew attention to
fabric and form.
Interiors were related to the frame of the painting. In A Portrait of
Jan Arnolfini & His Wife by Van Eyck. The viewer was taken into an
interior and shown a lifestyle. Products were seen as worthy of atmosphere.
Baroque and Romantic movements gave way to the Impressionists of the
late 19th Century (Monet, Degas, Cezanne).
Here the romance and the allegory were stripped away and common sense
and stimulation were used.
Objects were put before us, not as copies of reality, but as thought
provokers. Visual perception, colour theories and imagery stretched the
imagination.
The shock of Cubism was to be matched by the beginning of the modern
design movement in which functionalism was to lineage as an art form.
By the early 20th Century, Abstractism had reached its zenith, Wassely,
Kandinsky and Mon¼drian, made abstractions of patterns that had remarkable
similarity to emerging architecture, while Klee and Chagall placed individualism
above tradition.
It was at this time that the influence of Bauhaus that product of 1'920
Werkbund Germany in the pre-war period that established t
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