Saturday, 26 October 2024

THE BRESSAY KIRK - A SIDEWAYS MINIATURE


 

It was first seen from the ferry when leaving Lerwick – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/01/passing-thoughts-leaving-lerwick-harbour.html The surprise was the typically distinctive pair of southern windows: it was a sideways kirk on Bressay. On discovering this, one only wanted to visit this church to inspect it more closely, but the advice was that it was in a poor state of repair.


The kirk viewed from the passing ferry leaving Lerwick - centre bottom of image.

Telephoto view of the kirk.

The first glimpse of the twin southern windows.

A couple of years later, a small booklet on this Kirk was discovered in a Lerwick charity shop; it was purchased. This tiny publication, edited by the Rev. James A M. Dowswell, and titled A Brief History of Bressay Church, its Ministers and its Bell, (circa 1999 - the end of the book published a schedule of ministers 1909 - 1999), was published to raise funds “to maintain and conserve our inheritance;” in particular, “to restore the bell.” The great irony is that the church is currently for sale. The cost of maintenance has been given as the reason for this dispersal of church properties; it seems that the commitment to history has been dropped; forgotten. Apparently the surrounding graveyard and its association with this place of worship, means very little for today’s church. There seems to be something disrespectful here; something a little rude to those past and present, with this sale of hallowed ground.


View from southeast.

View from southwest.


The text describes the classic sideways kirk as “the auld Kirk in miniature . . . the typical 18th early 19th Presbyterian church” that “dates from 1814.” Surprisingly, the booklet records that this Kirk “accommodated 370 ‘and no free sittings.’ ” What these last few words mean is uncertain; they are not explained; but the number that could be accommodated in such a small building is astonishing: such is the efficiency of this sideways planning.



The booklet notes that over the years, various changes were made to the Kirk: the choir and organ in front of the pulpit were relocated in 1957 and replaced by a table; and stained glass windows were installed either side of the pulpit. Also in 1957, it is recorded that work on the rear eastern gable end showed evidence of an external stair similar to that at Lunna. It was a stair that gave access to the gallery, made redundant in 1895, when internal stairs were fitted. The booklet further notes that electricity was eventually installed and the floor carpeted. With the reduction in congregation numbers over time, the gallery finally became used as a storage area.


The external stair was on the eastern wall.

The external stair at Lunna Kirk - the only access to the gallery seating.

In spite of its current state of disrepair, one would still like to see the interior of this “miniature” Kirk that could hold so many people. These sideways kirks are amazing examples of Presbyterianism – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2017/04/shetlands-sideways-churches-creativity.html: they do not express any grand display and are truly effective and efficient, both practically and symbolically. One could say that they are 'moral,' being equitable and having no waste, remaining both modest and democratic - committed and rigorous. We could learn much from them. It is a shame that the only thing today’s church can think of doing with them is to sell them off to avoid the challenge of maintenance. The cunning spin is that money will be better spent on God’s work rather than on maintaining old buildings. It is as if history doesn’t matter, and has no relevance. The booklet records the Kirk’s history in better times when the congregation thought it had a future.


View from the north.


One wonders what the dead might think of this change in attitude? What might be the response of those in the nearby graves and those who donated memorials in memory of loved ones? These folk must have thought that the memories would live on forever, and not ever be flogged off to the highest bidder. The community had to work hard to raise funds to purchase Lunna Kirk, a place that one might have thought was already a communal centre that the church could have donated to the local residents to care for: but no – graveyard or not!


Lunna Kirk.

Sadly, the booklet records that this little Kirk on Bressay once used communion cups engraved with the name of a past minister, William Umpray, dated 1628 - 1653. Now these too have gone out of use too. What is wrong with the church today? Little wonder that it seems to be losing its relevance.


Tingwall Kirk - listed on online property auctions.
Does one purchase the graveyard?

Thursday, 24 October 2024

IN OUR OWN IMAGE


Why do we work so hard to create robots that look and act and move as we do?





Why struggle to devise humanoid forms to do our work: to walk with legs like ours; to lift with arms like ours; to look with eyes in a face like ours; to talk like us? Are we really the most efficient form to get work done, or are we just intrigued to see if we can replicate ourselves - but with what aim? Are we interested in knowing more about ourselves, or just lazy? Are we, at heart, all really interested in having slaves do our work for us, with as much enthusiasm as we decry slavery?





Perhaps we are trying to overcome all the subtleties in human relationships and every complication and challenge that this brings? Are we keen to resolve everything with the throw of a switch to OFF for our own convenience?





We already spend much time and money on motor vehicles, both ICE and electric, because we see this as an efficient way of moving around, more efficient than walking. So, if the aim is efficiency, why do we make our robots walk? Why not give them wheels?





As for lifting, we have devised numerous more effective and efficient ways of lifting things than a pair of arms, so why do we struggle to replicate our limbs in robots? It would seem that efficiency and effectiveness has nothing to do with our intentions.




Surely this is more than vanity; but perhaps not? The situation appears to be so irrational that one does wonder about the ambitions. Surely this anthropomorphism is not driven by self-importance and power, like that which can be perceived with envisaged relationships with sex dolls. Here, the ability to respond emotively has gone, or, with AI, has been carefully programmed to suit the intention, leaving the sex master in total control of all emotions without having to wonder or care about any other. One can indulge in whatever fantasy one wants, without having to be concerned about, or to have to respond to another in any way.




Given the impact of social media on individuals with its concentration on the self, this latter proposition causes one to be concerned about things humanoid and robotic; to be worried about attitudes to relationships; to the simple cooperation and the love, care, concern, and responsibility this involves.




We learn much from others with what Martin Buber called the ‘I/Thou’ relationship; isolation and control are the antithesis of this situation, making everything self-centred; singularly less with its emphasis only on ME.




We need to become more accountable in every way. Our fixation with humanoid robots and AI is a serious concern: it tests the very basis of our social responsibility by ignoring it in favour of one's own interests and preferences.






Tuesday, 22 October 2024

ON ORIGINS & TRADITION


A tradition is a belief or behaviour passed down within a group or society with symbolic meaning or special significance with origins in the past.

Google Arts & Culture



One reads and seeks to understand, but sometimes it takes time to piece things together, such is the complexity of experience and the arrogant certainty of modernity. In spite of this, on the way, one boldly quotes one’s references on the basis of respect, without really knowing what is being spoken about beyond the suggestive, parroted words and their vaguely-assumed intentions.




So it is that one is able to recite the meaning in traditional art and architecture as being ‘remembrance,’ a resonate word with an endearing, poetic knowing that embraces a potential subtlety in things wondrous without one really knowing what or why. Indeed, remembrance, memory, has been a theoretical position in some recent architectural ideas, such as Post Modernism, (Charles Moore), and the thinking on habitation, places lost, (Peter Read), so the proposition from tradition seemed to fit in nicely with recent thought, suggesting that the modern world had substance too, rich with personal recall and its subtleties.




One speaks of this traditional relationship with some authority based on the source, its reliability, stature, and scholarship, while being quietly embarrassed about the lack of clarity in one’s own understanding. One finds oneself spruiking words and phrases that hold no known depth other than their everyday references. The circumstance embraces some degree of blind hope rather than any clear assertion, leaving even the speaker asking: remembering what in particular?




In spite of this void, one might go on to argue the relevance of memory in things everyday, like lost places, and induce a certain knowing sensitivity, but this never seems enough, being too personal, individualistic, because the texts continue on with their approach to finally embrace God in a way that becomes unacceptable to the ‘clever’ western intellect with its questioning of religious overtones that are seen to be mesmerising to any true clarity of perception. Religion is said to be the opium of the mind, (Marx’s famous quote was ‘people’), a moron’s crutch that lacks rigour; lazy, blind belief akin to superstition and witchcraft.



With time, one discovers in the texts that what is remembered is the ‘origin,’ and, in the same way as before, one is able to respond to the question with a word that usually comes with the informed proviso that this notion has nothing to do with our current concept of things ‘original,’ bespoke, or of persons being ‘original’: uniquely creative, special, one of kind; action involving personal genius.+ Now the phrase is that tradition involves the remembrance of origins. One moves on into other matters as if this might be enough without one really knowing what this all involves as a lived experience beyond speech. What origins? Modernism might see this as being functions and purpose, some archaeological similarity, or a cultural reference, again giving some apparent substance to our era’s strategies that mock tradition as a conservative weakness, preferring the ambitions of progress, a blind racing forward into ever-different and ever-better futures that are seen to be superior to everything else old and staid.**



Traditions are beliefs or behaviours that are passed down through a society or group and have symbolic meaning or significance.

Google




Here the thinking that searched out some sense in symbolism as understood by tradition can help us see matters with more clarity, because tradition frames modernity as action that has gone astray; that has lost its way. Even this understanding of symbolism has gone through years of struggle to be more clearly comprehended beyond the mere spoken word. The texts tell us that the symbol is the thing experienced in part; it is not an applied reference or relationship, but a real, lived matter that embodies the presence of an aspect of a reality made explicit in part as the symbol, the portion of the thing itself manifested as perceivable fact in/as a thing experienced.




The dictionary of symbols rationalises the experience: it explains with too much certainty.

In seeking to understand this circumstance, the matter was pondered and explored in https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/06/country-outside-inside-place.html: the example of wine tasting was used to illustrate the point. It is this way of knowing that can help us with ‘origins.’ Our understanding of being original involves things singular and intimately skilful, having to do with unique personal approaches and an individual’s genius: all matters that we are told are follies of the true spirit of things original as understood by tradition.+



What we need to realise is that the notion of the origin holds its sense and orientation in symbolism. The symbol refers to a part, a segment of its origin; e.g., the lion is a symbol of the sun, one of its aspects. We can say that the lion’s sense of power and awe, its glory, has its origin in the sun; that, in this example, the sun is the origin: the thing unique, singular, bespoke, in part; the source that the symbol references.



Here, to expand this notion, one can refer to the pattern of relationships spoken of as the tree -see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/06/country-outside-inside-place.html - which involves infinite multiples of origins shaping a ‘wholeness,’ which is yet another word we use willy-nilly with an arrogance of the intellect, often cleverly turning things into the sound match ‘holy,’ closing the matter of tradition and its logic with a ‘meaningful’ phonetic game that suggests some native spiritual integrity framing an unchallengeable hierarchical status.



Things do in fact move into matters ‘holy’ in the sense of wholeness, with everything relating to its origin which finally is the ‘One’ referenced by Islam, in the same manner in which Islamic patterns arise from the point; but here we back off; we are in the realm of religion again, in particular, Islam, for much of the thinking comes from this understanding of the world: not that this understanding is unique or exclusive. We see various positions take dogged stances on the correctness of belief that becomes the basis of hatred and war, intolerance, when it is possible to see these positions themselves as aspects of the same reality: different ways of understanding mystery and wonder. Lopez tells of the Eskimo shaman who, when asked about his beliefs, said that they did not believe; they feared; and even these positions are interfused as experience.





One can see belief being related to fear, with belief blinding, blocking the raw reality of fear that is prepared, alert, expecting the calamities of a lived life, a circumstance that can be seen as being an awareness of origins. Belief grasps a different interpretation with propositions about origins that tumble on into an explanatory revelation enabling one to cope with existence and experience that fear confronts.



The situation is something like the experience of beauty. Barry Lopez, in Arctic Dreams, tells of vistas so beautiful, they could make you cry; and of icebergs so beautiful, the make you afraid: two responses to the origin. It has become a commonplace understanding that all things are related; that all religions are one. Origins have to do with the notion that everything is a shadow.## Tradition holds its meaning in remembering this, by pointing to the origin - the One. The Zen fable tells of the finger pointing to the moon: one can see the finger or become aware of its gesture and see the moon, the origin that tradition wants us to remember with its ‘pointing.’




Stepping back from origins, we have, over the years, also engaged with the workings of the craftsman, method, similarly spruiking words that we claim, from our sources, to be so, to be relevant and meaningful without knowing anything substantial about the experience and its explanation. The craftsman is said to start by concentrating, etc., seeing the whole and then taking steps to reveal it, to implement the perception. Tradition emphasises the importance of this not being personal genius; modesty and humility are involved; reverence, with a willing involvement like that of the hunter being aware of the taking of life, thanking the hunted for its life, and apologising. There is a knowing beyond skill and tasks. Craft and design are not dissimilar to the hunt: see Maps and Dreams, (Hugh Brody), and Arctic Dreams, (Barry Lopez), on the hunter: the sensing of the environment, the wholeness of things that includes the hunted, that which is sought. The craftsman works with the understanding of origins, sensing the role as revelation; incorporation, while being aware of wholeness, its embodiment, and the responsibility this task entails as an act of inclusive grace rather than grand self-expression of personal perceptions.




The discovery from the readings on tradition is that it is better to copy than invent; but why? Again, quietly embarrassed we hope the question is not put, that the authoritative statement will suffice. The understanding of the symbol again helps us: the true revelation copied is better than any ad hoc invention, no matter how clever this might be; better than any intellectual guess in spite of its stark, eye-catching difference, because the copy will, at the very least, reference the origin that the bespoke outcome will know nothing about. Even if the designer knows little to nothing about the origin that the copy is alluding to, the reference is there rather than the pretentious void. The personal guess is the making of a shadow that has no substance as its origin, a mere folly, a fantasy, a figment of a disturbed mind even if it might be ‘interesting’ and ‘entertaining’ in its stark, surprising difference: (see NOTE B).




We do need to know about these things to give some order and substance to our understanding of matters beyond a rote reading using our own assumed values, if we are to be properly informed in a way that can change things everyday meaningfully, because it is too easy to play games with words and presume there is substance and value in the void.



The craftsman knows of the relationship with the revelation of origin, and respects tradition and its rules, being aware that it is better to copy a revelation than blindly invent something different that can be spoken about using all the same words as those above that describe tradition, giving the circumstance some apparent relevance and meaning, when there is truly nothing but self-centred and personal whims that traditions defines as distortions; perversions.# It is important to know the relationships rather than the words so that the experience can be comprehended and lived rather than intellectualised and rationalised into a shrewd analytical game for academic promotion.




By understanding that tradition is about embodying the remembrance of origins, we are able to truly see its relevance and importance, even if we struggle or fail to experience it. Likewise with the craftsman: we can at least prepare ourselves to act similarly if we so choose, and know why, instead of proclaiming ourselves to be geniuses, free to express ourselves and our apparently unique understandings of things different, bespoke and personal, as if self-praise and self-promotion might be a useful guide to action.



At least we might begin to put ourselves on a path that might be able to include the integral richness held in tradition, that marvel which is revealed in the everyday with a humility and integrity lacking in today’s search for a bespoke, catchy, grand display that seeks to reveal the special genius of the individual while ignoring all origins. As with the craftsman, it is better to copy, to follow, than to start strolling blindly along paths unknown, no matter how clever we believe ourselves to be. We need to know that we are only playing with shadows for the shadows’ sake, and their intriguing, mesmerising engagement that promotes an individual’s name as a brand.





An awareness of the One* lies at the heart of traditional action and understanding. Our fear of this world is not the fear of the Eskimo, but the shunning of reality blinded by the belief in and love of the self as hero/god, a commitment that mocks tradition as conservative gobbledygook.




The stark contrast with tradition and the ways of the West cannot be more extreme: the gap is explained as ‘progress.’ Hollow words are now used to frame suggestions of meaning in circumstances that seek only to heighten self-importance and self-praise in the deceit that engages photographic ploys too. We appear to delight in such subterfuge which tradition is able to tell us lacks depth, coherence, and integrity, being the equivalent of playing with shadows that have no source or substance; an effort that is a pure, indulgent, egocentric delight totally at odds with the experience of the wonder of tradition of which Martin Lings said, we cannot marvel enough.


. . .

In conclusion:

When we talk about tradition, we can now say that it is about the remembrance of origins and know what, how, and why. In the same way we can understand the attitude of the craftsman and the particular approach that, using the same notion as that need to copy, we could adopt likewise: wise is the important word here, for latent in things traditional is a wisdom that is truly beyond words; of origins remembered . . . lest we forget that about which we remain so astonished. It is up to us if we might choose this path or maintain our aimless self-promotion of clever shadows and slick fingers pointing to nothing at all.



It is this relationship that clarifies the important matter involving the understanding of traditional art and architecture: that it must be viewed within the cultural vision that made it. Bringing our own, modern aesthetic approaches to the reading of tradition, e.g. https://phys.org/news/2024-10-scientists-secret-girl-pearl-earring.html, and https://www.theguardian.com/science/2024/oct/03/real-art-in-museums-stimulates-brain-much-more-than-reprints-study-finds, and https://theconversation.com/why-a-portrait-of-a-former-nrl-great-could-spark-greater-concussion-awareness-in-australia-238882, only overlays our own intentions and expectations onto the shadows, with our perceptions being the equivalent of seeing patterns in clouds; of admiring and analysing the pointing finger. It is clear how this modern approach can only mislead, in spite of its rational certainty. This understanding also highlights the shallowness of modern art and architecture, its prosaic limitations, with an intensity similar to that with which it emphasises the meaningful beauty in Islamic tiling patterns.



The traditional understanding that something cannot be beautiful if it is not functional and does not comply with the required proportions and rules, can be seen to be a proposition with more rigour and necessity than merely adhering blindly to a past for the sake of convention, or a lack of imagination.



One seeks a sensing of tradition to better know what one is looking at, searching for some comprehension of content in its context, not to offer a new approach for today’s muddle, because each era has its own strengths and weaknesses in its being - its way.



We need to understand tradition so that we might gain some idea of how such authority, intensity, and integrity came to be embodied in things traditional that we are happy to display in museums and galleries, and laud in history. At the very least we need to acknowledge the stark difference with today’s approach and show some recognition of this gap with humility and modesty, characteristics not alien to the beginnings of this authentic work.



**

The meaning of Icarus’s defiant and incautious bravado was never addressed in my physics seminar. . . . I longed for a direct experience with the world.

Barry Lopez, Horizon, Vintage, London, 2019.

#

Tom Heath’s argument that mere copying of tradition perpetuated narrow, ill-informed thinking about matters that new technology and science have transformed, ignores the strength of symbolism and its origins, leaving the new world in a meaningless void shaped by rational analysis that has cast a scepticism over things symbolic and meaningful in a disparaging manner that demeans it as the backwards-looking act of a thoughtless fool, a drug-induced idiot.



We need to rediscover the importance of symbolism. Our engagement with things has become concentrated on ourselves as the originators, the creators, a situation that highlights our self-importance, framing our selves as gods, geniuses; bespoke heroes. If it does nothing else, an understanding of tradition can highlight how insignificant and frivolous our art and architecture has become. We are truly shaping shadows, playing fancy games with fantasies while arguing that these interesting diversions are truly meaningful: see beer can art: Beer can artwork accidentally thrown in bin by staff member at Dutch museum - https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/oct/08/beer-can-artwork-lam-museum-thrown-out-all-the-good-times-we-spent-together




##

Abū Bakr Sirāj ad-Dīn The Book of Certainty The Islamic Texts Society, Cambridge, 2015.

p.37

. . . when, in connection with the dhikr, the Qur’ān speaks of the mathal – ‘example’ or ‘symbol’ – it is referring to the essential or ‘vertical’ likeness between higher and lower domains, such as those already mentioned between the Heart and the soul. A symbol is something in a lower ‘known and wonted’ domain which the traveller considers not only for its own sake but also and above all in order to have an intuitive glimpse of the ‘universal and strange’ reality which corresponds to it in each of the hidden higher domains. Symbols are in fact none other than the illusory perfections of creation which have already been referred to as being guides and incentives to the traveller upon his journey, and they have the power to remind him of their counterparts in higher worlds not through merely incidental resemblance but because they are actually related to them in the way that a shadow is related to the object which it casts. There is not the least thing in existence which is not such a shadow . . . Nor is there anything which is any more than a shadow.


NOTE A

Using the same process as that outlined here, and adopted in the blog, https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/06/country-outside-inside-place.html; one might ask: So what are songlines?

As a beginning, one might suggest a knowing, lived understanding of a named coherence, a continuity in the experience of places and meaning in tradition; but much more is needed: symbolism is involved.



+

NOTE B

Tradition highlights the absurdity of our fear of copying, of what we call 'plagiarism'; of always demanding to be 'original' by being different, encouraging the bespoke urge to express nothingness that is rationalised as my special, personal genius, there to be admired by all. It is this understanding that seeks to give ‘deep meaning’ to a couple of beer cans – and it is your fault, your weakness, if you fail to comprehend this valued circumstance because the display is in an art gallery. At least the cleaner knew what to do with it.



Perhaps one could add 'inventive' shadows to the cans to further enrich the experience?


This strategy leaves us only with an intriguing variety of fanciful, 'inventive' shadows: