The Theft of Art as Satire

Metal left out in the open air is fair game it seems – electricity cables on the railway tracks, copper roof cladding, public works of art – the theft of any of them reprehensible, but it’s the last which hurts the most. The financial considerations aside, we know that the cables and the roof can be replaced, yet once Barbara Hepworth’s sculpture Two Forms (Divided Circle) was stolen, melted down and sent through the cruel diode of entropy, we know something special and intangible has been lost forever.

Two Forms (Divided Circle) by Barbara Hepworth

Two Forms (Divided Circle) in happier times.

The theft of public art is the theft of old family photographs, of heirloom jewellery and holiday knickknacks, and the theft of these items is more than the theft of the object alone, it’s the theft of our memories and our private heritage. You might say that if these items are valued only for the memories they represent, then why isn’t the memory alone sufficient?

Memories require prompts if they are not to dissipate into hazy recollections of once-had experiences, and and even if they didn’t, the recall is sweetened by the tangibility of these physical prompts. Where the theft of an heirloom marks the loss of private heritage, that of a public work of art threatens our shared heritage.

There’s little sense that can be made of it; as pointless to ask the petty thief why he doesn’t respect the privacy of the homeowner, as it is the art thief about his conscience. Our concerns are sadly orthogonal to theirs.

Any of these losses are upsetting then, but the only solace I can take, the only reinterpretation of those acts that might yield something of value, is to say: what if we view the theft of art as an act of political satire and an opportunity to reflect?

That there have been economic troubles recently hardly seems worth repeating, it’s been the backdrop to our news for five years now. What is newsworthy is that the economy continues to stumble – any slight rise is followed shortly thereafter by another lumbering, ungainly fall. The possibility of a full and complete recovery in the near future hardly seems plausible. Rather the question is, what will be the next contagion?

As a remedy, we’ve witnessed a regime of austerity and cuts to public finances, cuts which are at least as politically motivated as they are economically so. To give some indication, roughly 4.5% will be cut from the Arts Council England budget between 2013/2014 & 2014/2015, and certain councils, such as Westminster City, are cutting their arts budget completely!

Of course, some financial reality must be allowed to intrude, but what we must not permit is for this reduced budget to become the status quo, a baseline which is viewed as always open to further and further reduction, on the purported basis that it’s not important and not worth protecting.

To know the value provided by funding of the arts, we need merely remember the generous patronage provided by the House of Medici who inspired and sustained the Renaissance. My mention of this cultural outpouring from several centuries ago is no accident. We are blessed today with a dazzling wealth of music, art, theatre and literature provided by the masters of old. Da Vinci, Beethoven, Cervantes, Shakespeare, Picasso, Shostakovich, Brecht, Camus and the rest – we can not rely on past glories; we must not indefinitely draw down on this resource and make no contribution of our own.

Society today is the beneficiary of all societies past. To be stingy in funding art, or to refuse to fund it at all, is a selfish act, not just for today but for future generations. That which we leave behind, or fail to leave, tells a story about us as a society and culture, and we have only one chance to write this postcard to the future, which says “Here is our contribution to the project of humanity, please enjoy!”

The thing with art, the one constant of it, true whatever the form or genre, is that there exists no reliable method of selecting a priori only those potential artworks that will come to be deemed astounding in the future. Moreover, the only way to guarantee that there will be any art in the category is to produce lots of art. To say nothing of the fact that art should represent the full spectrum of experience today and not just a single stratum.

A final thought: whatever money was paid to finance the composition of music in the time of Beethoven, is surely more than justified by his music alone, when we consider the pleasure it has brought to the many millions of listeners in the following 200 years. That’s the context, and the timescales, in which we must approach this subject.

To return to the present day, the theft of art by criminals is in fact a piece of performance art all of itself, a horrifying piece of political satire, one that is to witness and relive. The disrespect shown by the thieves towards art mirrors that of our government. They both are chipping away at our past heritage and preventing the formation of new.

Though it can feel like we’re powerless to stop either of them, as long as the arguments in favour of the arts and its funding continue to be made, perhaps we can halt the slide and, one day soon, reverse it. Otherwise, though there’ll always be a philistine element in society – those ungrateful, uncultured few – the danger is that we, the rest of society, will sink to join them.

It’s a Wave

Today’s poem was “found” in the music of Radiohead, and is followed by some details of the writing process should you wish to find your own poem. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s a Wave

It’s a wave,
it is full up,
such names are here –
all eyes up,
here for you.

More!

What answers, there?
How old am I?
It’s our hate – if I must –
it will save us fast,
it will ensnare us,
or see through,
as if we lose.

What is happening?

For your women,
where you sneak up on us:
tomb.

It’s not here anymore,
it’s more evil,
it’s more evil.
It’s more evil,
more.
No good winner.

Lick your lips,
silent!
Well, next time I
will eat
you.

You were there,
you good men,
you all wavered,
stood in the road.
End.
No Moses…

Remember it,
no excuses
if you find suffering in it.

It’s more evil,
it’s more evil.
More evil voices,
they send me down.

The following video is of Thom Yorke singing the beautiful Radiohead song Videotape from their album In Rainbows, with one crucial difference – the recording is reversed.

Listening to this reversed Videotape/epatoediV, I attempted to find a poem by trying to “understand” the garbled audio. Some of the mirrored lyrics seemed to leap out quite naturally and I formed new interpretations almost automatically. Other sections of the song appeared impenetrable but taking a phrase as a whole it evoked a feeling or an idea, which could be translated into verse. The caveat implied in this is that any efforts to compare the audio with my words will almost certainly bring about contrary opinions and disagreement.

For proof of this, note that the finished poem contains far less of the structure and repetition of the original song. This creative process is apparently not entirely reproducible, even with the same writer, the same sounds, or perhaps sounds only slightly changed, will evoke a different thought at a different time. It’s clear then that everybody will find their own unique poem in this music, and there’s something quite pleasing about that.

As a final piece of trivia, fans of Radiohead will know that the band themselves have played around with reversed audio on the song Like Spinning Plates, its genesis in the reversal of another of their songs, I Will. If you want to listen to the original, correctly-oriented version of Videotape, and I recommend that you do, as it’s a fantastic, moving song, then here it is:

Who Should Write Poetry? (How Vaughan Williams Might Have Responded)

The English classical composer Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) was a great supporter of English folk music, systematically transcribing its pieces so that they would be preserved for the enrichment of future generations. Although part of the musical elite, he was far from being a musical elitist and believed that everybody should make their own music, no matter how simple, as long it were truly their own.

I think I feel the same way about poetry. There is absolutely no need to leave this to the professionals (although I do aspire to join that group), no need to wait deferentially for their elegantly expressed, finely constructed words to be delivered to us. No, it’s within all of us to express our thoughts, feelings and observations in verse, whether that’s a sonnet, haiku or plain blank. If you don’t capture the experience of your local life and history, then who will? Just as there is a great tradition in folk music, so should there be in poetry.

That being said, it shouldn’t be taken as a license to write lazily or sloppily, nor as an excuse to put forth insufficient effort. Just because the poem might be “simple”, doesn’t mean that it need be bad. I can’t know for sure that Vaughan Williams would agree with this application of his words to poetry, but I am hopeful.

For those regrettably unfamiliar with his music, might I suggest one of my favourites of his as a starter – Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis. The piece is in one part, but split across two videos here.

Like a YouTube mash-up before the internet age, this piece is genius reworking genius. Thomas Tallis is the master Renaissance composer, who wrote the 40-part motet Spem in Alium. Truly a staggering musical achievement, this piece is particularly sensational live, so you should immediately snap-up any opportunity that comes your way to see this in concert.

One of Tallis’ many other compositions is the theme Why Fum’th in Fight. Vaughan Williams took this haunting melody and transmuted already-glittering material into a precious object.

Now that you’ve heard these gems, it’s time to create your own works of beauty, and to do so true to yourself. Why not begin by writing your own fantasia, but in this case, based on a favourite line of verse.

Hail to the Haiku

Today is National Haiku Poetry Day in the US, an occasion on which to celebrate all things wonderful about haiku, particularly that written in English. The day is organised by The Haiku Foundation, so why not get involved by downloading their free haiku app and put a delightful selection of poetry in your hands, which you can take with you (almost) everywhere you go!

To give you a taste of what to expect, one of my favourites in the app, though I haven’t yet read them all, is this hard-hitting and stunning haiku by Raymond Roseliep. Enjoy!

the space
between the deer
and the shot

The Waste Land Found

Is it still found poetry if you find a whole verse of an existing poem?

The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot

Found poetry at London’s South Bank

Text:

The river sweats
Oil and tar
The barges drift
With the turning tide
Red sails
Wide
To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
The barges wash
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.

From The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot

For anyone who wishes to see this first-hand, the paving stone can be found on the South Bank of the River Thames, roughly halfway between the London Eye and Hungerford Bridge.