Bonsai

A bonsai (盆栽, literally "plantings in tray")is a tree that is carefully pruned and shaped to remain a diminutive size while mimicking the style and shape of mature, full-size trees. The Japanese art of bonsai began in the 6th century, when Japanese diplomats brought back penjing (盆景, literally "tray scenery") from mainland China, though the Japanese repidly developed their own aesthetics for the art.

From Wikipedia: "Generally speaking, tree penjing specimens differ from bonsai by allowing a wider range of tree shapes (more "wild-looking") and by planting them in bright-colored and creatively shaped pots. In contrast, bonsai are more simplified in shape (more "refined" in appearance) with larger-in-proportion trunks, and are planted in unobtrusive, low-sided containers with simple lines and muted colors." (It seems, however, that different regions of Japan developed different styles - by the late 1860s Tokyo and Kyoto had different styles when it came to bonsai, and neither approved of the other.)

In Utsubo Monogatari (Tale of the Hollow Tree, year 970), Japan's oldest full-length narrative (a literary style comparable to the epic), there is a passage that illustrates the Japanese mindset in this point in history fairly well: "A tree that is left growing in its natural state is a crude thing. It is only when it is kept close to human beings who fashion it with loving care that its shape and style acquire the ability to move one."

One has to say, though, that Japanese aesthetics are manyfold and intricate, considered in Western society as more of a philosophy than anything else while within Japan they are considered an integral part of life. A key point of Japanese aesthetics is mono no aware, a concept originated by Motoori Norinaga in the 18th century, which describes empathy towards beauty. In his Shibun Yoryo (The Essentials of the Tale of Genji, 1763), Norinaga describes it as such:

For instance, if a man, viewing beautiful cherry-blossoms in full bloom, appreciates them as beautiful, he is aware of mono no kokoro or the heart of the thing. Being aware of the beauty of the blossoms, he is moved by it. That is, he is sensitive to mono no aware. In contrast, if a man, whatever beautiful flowers he sees, does not feel them to be beautiful, he is not aware of mono no kokoro. Such a man is never moved by the beauty of the flowers. That is to say, he is not sensitive to mono no aware.

In Japanese culture, a main point of life is to appreciate ephemeral things such as the cherry blossoms, and this certainly extends to bonsai, for which there are many rules. These little trees are trimmed and shaped to best reflect wabi-sabi, perhaps the most important of Japanese aesthetic ideals. This ideal concerns the elegance in imperfection, simplicity and age. In art books, it is typically defined as "flawed beauty". Being moved by wabi-sabi is to be sensitive to mono no aware, and I hope you feel a part of these concepts when admiring the below bonsai from the Japanese collection of the National Bonsai & Penjing Museum at the U.S. National Arboretum.

Japanese Maple, in training since 1906

Hornbeam, in training since 1935

Japanese White Pine, training date unknown

These miniature trees are cultivated over decades, often more than a century, but I do have to giggle at the phrase "in training since"! An interesting turn of phrase to use for trees. It makes me think more of martial art than the art of careful trimming.

Turtles All the Way Down

Turtle from previous WIP!

After a lecture on cosmology and the structure of the solar system, William James was accosted by a little old lady.
"Your theory that the sun is the centre of the solar system, and the earth is a ball which rotates around it has a very convincing ring to it, Mr. James, but it's wrong. I've got a better theory," said the little old lady.
"And what is that, madam?" Inquired James politely.
"That we live on a crust of earth which is on the back of a giant turtle,"
Not wishing to demolish this absurd little theory by bringing to bear the masses of scientific evidence he had at his command, James decided to gently dissuade his opponent by making her see some of the inadequacies of her position.
"If your theory is correct, madam," he asked, "what does this turtle stand on?"
"You're a very clever man, Mr. James, and that's a very good question," replied the little old lady, "but I have an answer to it. And it is this: The first turtle stands on the back of a second, far larger, turtle, who stands directly under him."
"But what does this second turtle stand on?" persisted James patiently.
To this the little old lady crowed triumphantly. "It's no use, Mr. James – it's turtles all the way down."

—J. R. Ross, Constraints on Variables in Syntax 1967

The phrase 'turtles all the way down' seems to have originated in the form 'rocks all the way down', for which a similar story to the one above was printed in an unsigned anecdote about a schoolboy and an old woman living in the woods. (Unwritten Philosophy, 1838)

          In my school-boy days, when I loved better to rob birds'-nests and plunder orchards than acquire knowledge, I have often deserted the school-room and pursued the above-mentioned avocations in the forest, in my usual quiet manner. I recollect once, when having been lost in the intricacies of the wood, I stumbled upon a little hut. Being extremely thirsty, and rightly concluding that a spring would be found in its vicinity, I wended my way thither. I found it occupied by an old woman, of whom I requested a draught of water. It was soon furnished; and when I had despatched it, I was overwhelmed with questions.
          "Ar'n't you one of the 'cademy boys?" inquired she.
          "Yes, marm," was the reply.
          "Well, I declare!" ejaculated the old woman; "they say you learn queer things down there. Why, they say the world is round!"
          "The world, marm," said I, anxious to display my acquired knowledge, "is not exactly round, but resembles in shape a flattened orange; and it turns on its axis once in twenty-four hours."
          "Well, I don't know anything about its axes," replied she, "but I know it don't turn round, for if it did we'd be all tumbled off; and as to its being round, any one can see it's a square piece of ground, standing on a rock!"
          "Standing on a rock! but upon what does that stand?"
          "Why, on another, to be sure!"
          "But what supports the last?"
          "Lud! child, how stupid you are! There's rocks all the way down!"

The concept of the earth resting on turtles may have come from Hindu mythology, where the World Serpent, Shesha, is said to hold all the planets of the universe on his multitude of heads. The idea of several World Elephants holding up the Earth, they in turn standing on the back of a large turtle, may have come from confusion over the Sanskrit noun Nāga, which has the dual meaning of "serpent" and "elephant" (named for its snake-like trunk).

According to Bertrand Russell: "It is exactly of the same nature as the Hindu's view, that the world rested upon an elephant and the elephant rested upon a tortoise; and when they said, 'How about the tortoise?' the Indian said, 'Suppose we change the subject.'"

Balthasar Gracian - Aphorism #198

Aphorism #198: Know how to transplant Yourself

     There are nations with whom one must cross their borders to make one's value felt, especially in great
     posts. Their native land is always a stepmother to great talents: envy flourishes there on its native soil,
     and they remember one's small beginnings rather than the greatness one has reached. A needle is
     appreciated that comes from one end of the world to the other, and a piece of painted glass might outvie
     the diamond in value if it comes from afar. Everything foreign is respected, partly because it comes from
     afar, partly because It is ready made and perfect. We have seen persons once the laughing-stock of their
     village and now the wonder of the whole world, honoured by their fellow-countrymen and by the
     foreigners [among whom they dwell]; by the latter because theycome from afar, by the former because
     they are seen from afar. The statue on the altar is never reverenced by him who knew it as a trunk in the
     garden.

Balthasar Gracian

Aphorism #150: Know to get your Price for Things

        Their intrinsic value is not sufficient; for all do not bite at the kernel or look into the interior.

        Most go with the crowd, and go because they see others go. It is a great stroke of art to bring

        things into repute; at times by praising them, for praise arouses desire at times by giving them a

        striking name, which is very useful for putting things at a premium, provided it is done without

        affectation. Again, it is generally an inducement to profess to supply only connoisseurs, for all

        think themselves such, and if not, the sense of want arouses the desire. Never call things easy or

        common: that makes them depreciated rather than made accessible. All rush after the unusual,

        which is more appetising both for the taste and for the intelligence.

When I read Siddhartha, at the bottom of each page there was an offer for subscription to daily updates - one for a daily sonnet by Shakespeare, and one for a daily aphorism from Balthasar Gracian's The Art of Worldly Wisdom (Oraculo manual y arte de prudencia). I subscribed to both.

Today's update from the Balthasar newsletter I found particularly interesting because it still applies to marketing and consumerism today - it's a gem of wisdom we all perceive in our daily lives, but perhaps couldn't have put quite as concisely and adroitly as the Jesuit priest did. I only recently subscribed to this newsletter, but I was already aware that this work is considered as relevant today as it was in the seventeeth century. In the words of the website, "While Sun Tzu's The Art of War and Niccolo Machiavelli's The Prince are generally concerned with affairs of the state, The Art of Worldly Wisdom ranks among the most notable and popular works of philosophical advice. Gracian influenced other such timeless and notable authors as Nietzsche, La Rochefoucauld, Francois-Marie Arouet Voltaire, and Schopenhauer, who translated his works to German."

You can read all of the aphorisms here, or subscribe to a daily aphorism here!

Siddhartha

Today I came across a great piece of literature, and devoured it within a matter of hours. Exquisitely written (and translated), the novel I speak of is Siddhartha, Eine indische Dichtung by Hermann Hesse.

I came across the English translation online and found myself drawn in by it, and welcome you to read it as well! It is the tale of an Indian man on his way to enlightenment, to reach the state of Buddha. The entire novel is uploaded here for our enjoyment, and contemplation. I myself am not a Buddhist, but the novel is deep and thought-provoking, following the life of Siddhartha as he searches the way through various teachings, from the ascetics through the worldly teachings of a courtesan to the simple life of a ferryman, and at last finds enlightenment.

The world, my friend Govinda, is not imperfect, or
on a slow path towards perfection: no, it is perfect in every moment,
all sin already carries the divine forgiveness in itself, all small
children already have the old person in themselves, all infants already
have death, all dying people the eternal life. It is nor possible for
any person to see how far another one has already progressed on his
path; in the robber and dice-gambler, the Buddha is waiting; in the
Brahman, the robber is waiting. In deep meditation, there is the
possibility to put time out of existence, to see all life which was,
is, and will be as if it was simultaneous, and there everything is
good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, I see
whatever exists as good, death is to me like life, sin like holiness,
wisdom like foolishness, everything has to be as it is, everything only
requires my consent, only my willingness, my loving agreement, to be
good for me, to do nothing but work for my benefit, to be unable to ever
harm me. I have experienced on my body and on my soul that I needed sin
very much, I needed lust, the desire for possessions, vanity, and needed
the most shameful despair, in order to learn how to give up all
resistance, in order to learn how to love the world, in order to stop
comparing it to some world I wished, I imagined, some kind of perfection
I had made up, but to leave it as it is and to love it and to enjoy
being a part of it.--These, oh Govinda, are some of the thoughts which
have come into my mind.

I do highly recommend it, and am glad that I came across such an interesting piece of work today. I also read two short stories by O'Henry, of which I preferred the story The Last Leaf. It's... bittersweet.
So today was a very constructive day in terms of reading good literature! Have you read anything interesting lately? There's so much left for me to read and discover, but I find that I like these unexpected gems best.

Short Definition of Art and Aesthetics

AESTHETICS

“A set of principles concerned with the nature and appreciation of beauty.” Also, “the branch of philosophy which deals with questions of beauty and artistic taste.”

The definition of aesthetic, according to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, is: of or relating to art or beauty.

 

According to Oxford Dictionaries, an aesthetic is “a set of principles underlying the work of a particular artist or artistic movement”, such as the Cubist aesthetic. As such, aesthetic theory is often divided into branches such as art theory, film theory, and music theory.  

The word aesthetic is derived from the Greek αἰσθητικός (aisthetikos, meaning "sensitive, perceptive"), and had originally been used merely to mean “sensibility” or “responsiveness to stimulation of the senses”. It received its contemporary meaning of “taste” or “sense” of beauty by Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten.

The German philosopher first introduced the concept of good and bad “taste” (and as such, good and bad art) in his book Die Metaphysik. He defined “taste” as the ability to judge according to the senses, instead of according to the intellect.

Originally published in Latin in 1739, his concept received a lot of criticism from other philosophers, including Immanuel Kant, though the latter eventually came to conform to Baumgarten’s usage of the word and himself employed the word aesthetic to mean the judgment of taste or the estimation of the beautiful.

ART

Generally, art (or “fine art”) is when the artist’s skill is used to express his or her creativity, or to engage the audience’s aesthetic sensibilities. 

If this skill is being used in a functional object, it is more likely to be considered a craft rather than art; when the skill is being used in a commercial or industrial way it may be considered design instead of art, though the term “applied art” may also be appropriate. 

Typically, art implies no function other than to please the eye or communicate an idea.

For many centuries it was implied that all art aims at beauty, but art movements such as Cubism and Dadaism struggled against the conception that beauty is central to the definition of art – with great success. 

After the works of such artists as Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol one could believe that “art” is basically a sociological category, and that whatever art schools, museums and artists define as art is considered such regardless of formal definitions. After all, most people didn’t consider the depiction of a store-bought urinal or Brillo Box to be art until Marcel Duchamp and Andy Warhol (respectively) placed them in the context of art (i.e. the art gallery), which then provided the association of these objects with the associations that define art. 

However, there are other possible definitions, such as that suggested by proceduralists: That it is the process by which a work of art is created or viewed that makes it art, not any inherent feature of an object, or how well received it is by the institutions of the art world after its introduction to society at large. Leo Tolstoy, on the other hand, claims in “What is art?” (1897) that what decides whether or not something is art is how it is experienced by its audience, not by the intention of its creator. 

There are a number of other theories, ranging from the practical (the instrumentalist theory of art, Monroe Beardsley) to the obscure (“Art is an anti-destiny”, André Malraux). In general, one can agree that the definition of art is limited by both era and culture.