Four small
tapestries are hanging on the wall; each was purchased individually
at different times from charity shops in Shetland, various local
outlets; all nonchalantly. Unintentionally, they form something of a
set, with two representing birds, one poppies, with the other
stitches delicately detailing Moscow's St Basil's roof line. Each
framed piece was discovered by chance and purchased for its
qualities, but not just as some random decorative wall art like that
seen in motel rooms. The ruby poppies and the red robins fill the
frame with a quiet vitality, just as one might see in a Japanese
print where two-dimensional space is filled with the vibrant patterns
of the subject. The blue wren has the lovely, light quality
suggesting the spirit of the bird; while the St Basil's piece
cleverly uses the white gauze as a winter's sky and snow, a little
like the way Matisse used the beige, raw canvas in one of his dynamic Dance paintings.
When casually
perusing these four works, it occurred to me that everything here has
been assembled by hand; that the various associated bits and pieces
too, were made, if not by hand, by the thinking and acting of man
using instruments made likewise.
One realises exactly
what Christopher Alexander# meant when he spoke of the millions of
decisions that have to be made by man in the making of even a small
portion of a city. Just with these four little pieces of ordinary
handicraft, one could envisage the multiplicity of decisions
necessary to achieve the outcome now assembled on the wall.
The gauze backing
and thread have to be made. This involves not only a process, but
decisions on materials, their source and supply; their form, density,
and colour, and more; along with determinations on the packaging and
promotion of the items for sale.
The selections of
the purchaser then include choices of the pattern and kit, followed
by the process of stitching where thread length, colour, thickness
and needle size, and more, all need thought about before the consideration
of technique, location, and the form of the stitch.
After completion,
the process of framing involves material, form, colour, size, type of
backing and glass, pins, tapes, and the doing.
At every minute step
there are minds in action managing ambitions for outcomes both as a
whole, and piecemeal: one might call it the intimacy of action.
'Experience' is another naming option, but the word is too broad, too
platitudinous, and involves possibilities that breach the point
wanting to be made, muddling matters: that real people making real
decisions are involved in achieving even simple, perhaps cliché
outcomes that are extraordinary.
It is this subtle
richness of responsibility that Christopher Alexander seeks to
expose. Good outcomes require constant, continuous, good thinking;
care at every step that can create a wholeness, a holiness that one
can experience in the everyday; something special and wonderfully
engaging of the spirit - 'uplifting' is the other hackneyed phrase,
but it is so.
These four ordinary
discards on the wall - again, someone, somewhere decided to give the
pieces away, just as we decided to purchase them - that probably cost
on average about five pounds each, embody a world of commitment in
action by fellow human beings that leaves one amazed. These lovely
pieces, fresh and delightful, will never make the multi-millions of
the fashionably heroic art auctions, but they are as important as any
of these 'masterpieces.'
One can delight in
their being here, first as fresh expressions of nature in the way
Ananda Coomaraswamy spoke of the traditional artist - how this person
sought to express the workings of nature, it's manner of operation,+
rather than its visually expressive, pictorial qualities or slick
distortions of these. Secondly, one can be happy that some folk have
made the effort to make these items.
It is not fair to
label these works 'naive,' but they are. It is their lack of pretence
that allows one to see them in this way; that desire just to act, to
reveal the stitched pattern on the gauze just because someone wanted
to. There is that marvellous, honest desire to do something that is
not fashionable ‘self-expression,’ but an expression of our
sensed world, it's revelation: the wonder of the flower; the beauty
of the bird; the amazing grandeur of architectural form in snow –
all matters touching nature. Might the crafts person who completed
the 'handiwork' be something like the Lascaux painter, wanting to
capture and reveal the wonder of life, to share this enchantment with
others, perhaps to manage power, as if words were not enough?
We need to get back
to understanding just what this experience is and how it is accommodated/accumulated/a-mused.* Christopher Alexander was concerned with just these issues
that come down to matters personal and moral - the intimacy of action
and it's innate responsibilities.
Too often today we
have distractions that allow us to ignore this basis of all acts. AI
and technology drag our attention and misplace responsibility
elsewhere, anywhere. A controlling authority, a love, must always lie
at the heart of the individual, our else it is a lie.
Alexander once
explained the concept enigmatically, as "Searching for God in
the middle of a football field." While this statement might
sound like the deranged words of a bigoted fanatic, one has to
realise just how, like all of Alexander's words, they are precise and
to the point. It is all about engagement, an involvement with both
reality and mystery; a constant seeking embodying a desire to
articulate the inexplicable.^
Tradition has told
us about these things, noting that if these matters could have been
explained more clearly they would have been by now. Perhaps the
Biblical 'Seek and ye shall find' is as close as one can get to
succinctly define the concept that does engage honesty, modesty,
simplicity, and a purity of intent: E.F. Schumacher called it 'good
work.' It has nothing to do with heroic, bespoke, self-expression.
The four little tapestries are exemplars of this idea that needs to
become our ideal.
Christopher
Alexander's point, like that of E.F. Schumacher's, has something to
do with the Buddhist view of action: when you are walking, know that
you are walking: when you are designing, know that you are designing
- know that you are thinking, assessing, deciding, acting responsibly
- responding to wholeness, its unfolding, with good work.
*
One could see the
aboriginal relationship with land in this same complex manner.
^
See
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2021/08/design-as-dreaming-hunt-not-hunting.html
#
see:
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2022/07/design-just-like-puzzles.html
and
https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2022/08/alexanders-method-looking-for-god.html
+
MANNER OF OPERATION
One has to note how
these little pieces are examples of art as understood by tradition.
The work exists just for itself, it's celebration of life and being,
of effort and commitment; it is completely anonymous, unpretentious,
allowing all thoughts to be only about the work and its qualities.
There is nothing of 'self-expression' or personal heroics here; there
is no brand to promote; there is no hype of matters unique, or any
envy of desire to own and invest here; to boast: there is nothing
stylish or fashionable here. The work is not bespoke; it is from a
pattern developed by 'anonymous' to be completed with care, skill,
and love by 'anonymous.' Names and personalities are irrelevant;
provenance is irrelevant; these associated origin stories mislead and
distract by structuring a conceptual diversion that deceives; we are
offered just the work itself, alone, and its relationship to the
world; it's delineation of one aspect of the world's 'manner of
operation.' It is through such works that we can again look at the
world and know it better: 'be quietly enriched' is another expression
of the experience of this intimacy of action. There is a fullness
here, Alexander's 'wholeness,' that engages the spirit with a fertile
modesty. Art is about this - the thing itself and the world; it has
nothing to do with personal preferences, heroes, heroics, or
promotional hype. One can see such efforts as being similar to the
works of the charlatan; the snake oil salesmen - c.f. the efforts of
Frank Gehry and Damien Hirst: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-gehry-talk-domes-cones-and-inspired.html.
As this is being
typed, a quilt stand stands in front of me. It, too, was an ad hoc
find, at the Lerwick refuse centre nicely named a recycling centre.
The little stand was brought home, stripped back, repaired, and
polished with orange oil to 'bring it back to life.' The phrase is as
clichéd as any cliché can be, but it says something true about art
- it's special relationship to life.
The piece is made of
oak; it has arched leg supports that carry the rails. These end
frames have a base shaped with twin feet that look like little
mirrored boots; the lower portion of dowel frame is engraved with a
spiral groove; the upper portion has been carved as barley twists, 3D
spirals that all have the same orientation; and the top is shaped as
a wooden arch that sits on turned base knobs. This 'trash' was made
by 'anonymous,' with a thoughtful caring that celebrated the portions
and parts of this hanging frame and their intersections. It's value
is not in cash; it lies in that intimacy of action that is centred in
the heart of man and the desire to celebrate experience: its sheer,
silent delight that is our being here in this universe, seeing that
it is good: When I consider the sun, the moon, . . . what is man? The
Psalmist poet is everyman; art celebrates this wonder of life; it's
mysteries; it is never self-expression or deliberately bespoke: lest
we forget.
THE WATERCOLOURS
The set of tapestries is hung adjacent to two watercolours.
These paintings can be viewed in the same way as the needlework.
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