.............>> Once I start thinking like this, the evidence starts to scream at me from through the window. I call it natural aesthetics, but I don’t know if it’s a known idea. It’s Man that ruins the view, not God/Nature. And more, if God/Nature lays a hand on the works of man it usually makes it more pleasing. OK, there’s thousands of examples of exceptions, where man-made things are beautiful and pristine, but there’s millions of confirmations. A fence with ivy or without. Moss. Erosion. Chaotic burgeoning hedgerows. Natural farming methods. The softening of straight lines. (Straight lines! What bizarre quirk made us dislike those, other than this reason?) Rust. Patina. Further, perhaps the principle extends to subconscious associations. Here’s my own list of aesthetically preferred roof coverings, in ascending order (sad git!): Bitumen felt, concrete tiles, clay tiles, slate, thatch. Agree? Why on earth would we all have similar feelings about such a matter, unless we were reacting negatively to the degree to which the hand of Man was involved in them?
And it’s the hand of modern man that seems to piss us off, not that of our ancestors. Not surprising, I would suggest, since it’s from them that we got our quirky ideas. They and therefore we were moulded in a very different world from what we have now. The industrial revolution has been too much of a rush, and we haven’t adjusted to it yet. Why should we have, when our pre-industrial development stretched thousands of times longer. Thus, traditional manufacture is fine. Arrowheads are beautiful unless laser cut (why? It’s not just age, it’s more than that, surely?)
And when it comes to megaliths, they’ve got lots going for them in specifically aesthetic terms. The hand of our ancestors (traditional manufacture, marked by stone mauls not power tools, no straight lines) and the hand of God/Nature – erosion, lichen, leaning – in fact they may well look more appealing to us than they did to our ancestors. I wonder if they were impatient for moss to grow on them and tempted to distress them a bit – that’s what I’ve done with the concrete Buddha in my garden, and it was their genes that told me to!).
So, that’s my bid for world peace. The duality you fear from the use of the word spirituality is hardly an issue. You say: “beauty, the aim of aesthetics, is (for me, I mean) a highly spiritual thing!” I say, me too, when I react to beauty I’m reacting to the spirit of my ancestors who inhabited a world more close to nature. The further I get from their world, the more aesthetically displeased I am, and vice versa. There’s nothing wrong with the look of the modern world if only it was where we grew up but it isn’t. I’m from elsewhere, so me and my genes and my psyche find it very disturbing, not what we’re used to at all. Any time I catch a glimpse of the old country I’m pleased and I say “that’s beautiful”. It does me a power of good, stops me going insane. When you say beauty is “good for the soul” I say yes it is.
Nigelswift,
I know this is meant for Tom, just have to say it spoke to my soul completely. Put a lump in my throat it did! Some say how can we feel the ancients in places so disturbed by modern man and I agree to a point. But as you say and as I feel we are born from the ancients. We carry it in our blood and bones. Like a guitar string when plucked we resonate and feel the vibrations deep within. It is not as if we plan this, it happens naturally, maybe it could be explained scientifically but who really cares.... the point is that our body knows better than our head. There is wisdom in these here bones. Has anyone ever tested the electromagnetic energy surrounding sites?
Shestu
Nigel, once again I agree with you in a big way. Here's some more random thoughts... I love your talk about the harmony of colours:
"Out of my window there are a million greens, and none clash. There’s also oranges and purples, and those don’t either. Poets have said as much."
I've noticed that one with patterns too. Look at, say, the stones on a rocky riverbed. Don't they make a beautiful pattern? (I think so!) Pick one up and then cast it down again randomly on the ground. The pattern's changed slightly but its beauty remains the same. It would take prolonged, concentrated effort to rearrange the stones in a way that spoils the beauty of the pattern. And nature is full of such patterns - the leaves on trees etc. Not sure if I'm trying to say anything here except "Wow, man"!
I know what you're saying with "It’s Man that ruins the view, not God/Nature". I kind of agree. I live in a very beautiful place - indeed, its a designated Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. If you travel about three miles from here, though (over the VERY carefully positioned boundary of the AONB) then you will see, nestled into the verdant valley floor, a bloody great big grey cement works (currently disused) complete with huge phallic chimney. Places like this are strong evidence in support of what you're saying. I have just one hesitation, and that is that I find beauty in strange places. Have you ever seen Bladerunner? The opening shot of that film describes exactly what I mean. The city in Bladerunner is a vision of hell - its dark, dirty, polluted, overcrowded, all the rest of it. But that opening shot is a vision of beauty that thrills my soul, the city lights glistening in the darkness, jets of (horribly polluting, I assume) fire shooting into the sky. Ridley Scott (a northern soul) took his inspiration for his vision of the city of the future from a landscape really quite near to my home - the industrial hell around Hartlepool, Redcar & Cleveland. Jah Wobble's Deep Space recently did an album (Largely Live in Hartlepool & Manchester) whose cover is a picture of the British Steelworks at Redcar. Have a look...
http://www.30hertzrecords.com/largely.htm
That's the kind of beauty I mean. Those clouds of (probably hideously polluting) smoke with the coloured lights shining through them. From one perspective its as ugly as it gets, when you think about what its actually doing. But just look at it aesthetically - its beautiful. Ever walked through a city street crowded with traffic after dark in the rain? I'm sure you have - its like walking through fairyland, at times, don't you think? Coloured lights dancing over the glistening asphalt. Its like Grufty Jim wrote in his blog recently:
"Stand atop Parliament Hill at midnight, and look out over London... it's absolutely majestic. Shimmering and twinkling, and tranquil in a way that 8 million people living together shouldn't be.
The cool air is still,
o'er this jewelled landscape. Night -
on Parliament Hill."
http://www.cloud23.net/blog/
(sorry Jim, if you were trying to keep out of this!)
continued...