Izya SHLOSBERG |
"...According to the article "Quest of Knowledge," on the dawn of
that which we altogether arbitrarily and doggedly call "human," in
primordial tribes the distribution of roles was more natural and
connected: a hunter was a warrior and he was a shepherd. An artist
was a priest, scientist and engineer. This experience gradually was
stored in the subconscious on a instinctive level already codified
as a mathematical formula. Seeing only the surface layer of this
experience we arrogantly called it primal. But even if this primal
consciousness was very fundamental, very sensitive, it used
abilities which are lost today. Look at how balanced and contemporary
the compositions of the primeval artist are, how poetic and musical
they are. Although by our modern perception we can discern only a
drawing, nonetheless our subconscious prompts us that the
codification here is more multi-faceted , that the primeval artist
created a whole complex which we understand first and foremost as
a drawing. Having said this, it is not surprising that many
musicians draw and write poetry magnificently, and poets illustrate
their own works, and play guitar during breaks.
Summing up the above mentioned points, the artist should be
looked upon as a conduit of archaic, elementary knowledge, which we
sometimes classify as knowledge from within, and art itself as a
codified reservoir and language of this knowledge.
Perhaps, therefore, we are very often interested in the
works of primitivists and contemporary artists working in archaic
styles. On the other hand we delight in the utilitarian streamlined
form of an airplane as perfect, that is, technical information
codified in a drawing again becomes engineering and the subconscious
automatically makes this connection with the esthetic "interpreter."
There is more to it. Thanks to working with the codified
information, the artist having been "infected " with it, begins to
express the appearance of extrasensory mutations - premonitions,
physiognomic abilities, etc. - in it. Certainly, in "troubled times"
(before revolutions, wars and cataclysms) art becomes more dynamic;
it changes. But there is nothing supernatural here. If you are in a
field, you know there is a very high probability that a brick will
not fall on you, that is, you have already foreseen some aspect of
the future. Artists, as a more emotional aspect of humanity, feel
this on the instinctive level. Apparently for early man it was
rather commonplace to "foresee" the appearance of an enemy,
earthquakes, etc. Perhaps that is why he, and not the dinosaurs,
survived..."
I. Shlosberg |
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