QUESTIONS, NOT ASKED, NOT DARED

by Paul Henrickson, Ph.D.

© 2005

I am inserting this section so that it might function, hopefully,

as a kind of guide, and encouraging helpmate, to those
individuals who offer their insights into the process of the
aesthetic response so that the reader might vicariously “make
the same trip” as the writer.

This process requires a certain degree of courage and humility

on the part of the writer and an open and magnanimous
gentleness on the part of the reader.

The Question Artists truly dare not ask and the

answer they
really fear to hear is so critically pertinent that for
inherent meaning to exist in further creative effort
courage must be located somewhere to ask and the
self-forgiving tolerance found (usually only in
extremis), to listen to the answer. This combination of
efforts ends up being the balm for the humiliated
soul.

It is not often that the subject of art criticism is

approached with the same mystic perceptions as
Bernini may have approached his “Ecstasy of St.
Theresa”. But, believe it or not, there is an element of
mysticism in the process of art criticism. At least, we
might express this way: the mystery that informs the
creator may be related to the mystery confronts the
observer.
Bernini: Saint Teresa in Ecstasy

From my point of view, however, it is of such vital

importance that if it is not approached with as much
concern for the legitimate expression of aesthetic
responses but remains content with the sophisticated
protective shawl of rhetoric our chance for the
survival of the civil experience of empathic union with
another being is lost. It is that which makes the art
experience unique…the empathic union, over space
and time and through inanimate material, between
one person and another. It is empathy which is the
catalyst for significant political movements such as
that which, in the expression of Abraham Lincoln,
allowed the American Civil War to take place with the
publication of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” by Harriet Beecher
Stowe, and a lying in state of the 92 year-old body of
Rosa Parks who had courageously given expression to
the need to widen the parameters of human dignity
by not giving up her seat in a bus to a white man.

Art criticism has for nearly two centuries, together

with its cancerous association with the commercially
motivated gallery system’s manipulation of aesthetic
perception, warped, twisted and shredded those very
tender qualities that lend exquisite value to human
responses. One might suspect a high correlation
between the decline in the quality of art criticism and
the rise in the acceptance of the most commonly
vulgar art forms. I am thinking of Koons, Kats and
Warhol. Therefore, we recognize the importance of
cultivated and developed criticism.

At the outset one might acknowledge the ability of

language to exceed that of vision in getting people to
behave…in moving them in the direction one wants
them to move. In the book “The Art Crowd” by Sophy
Burnham, I sensed some dissatisfaction with the
somewhat overblown distortions tainted, it seemed,
with some preconception, which, at the time I was
reading it, I had been unable to identify. Years later I
learned that she seems to have been a favorite with
what some social scientists describe as the
conservative right. I believe it must have been that
which I sensed was an unfortunate and misleading
focus.

Although she and Leonid Breznjev would agree with

the observation that one should not underestimate
the power of an image, that statement itself points up
the misguided use of the plastic arts as political tools.
My resentment of its use in attempting to get people
to do what they normally might not do has little to do
with political agenda , but everything to do with the
aesthetic thrill to be experienced through a politically
unattached vision. It is the act of depriving others of
the possible aesthetic nourishment available in a
work of art that I find reprehensible.

Now, at this point I should probably admit that when

Jose Ortega y Gassett wrote something called the
“Dehumanization of Art” I was quite distressed. I
very much enjoyed his style of writing and agreed
with very much of what he had to say, except when it
seemed he was condemning much, if not all, of non-
figurative work. For I have found it was the non-
figurative in figurative work that elevated the work to
the level of art as opposed to artifact.

I felt very much abandoned after I had read that by

Ortega Y Gassett, rather much the way I felt after
reading the Confessions of Saint Augustine which was
much too rich a fare for a fourteen year-old. It has
taken me several decades to begin, I think, to see
light at the end of the tunnel.

More recently after having read some of the

comments of Theodor Ludwig Wiesengrund Adorno on
the subject of Jazz I once again became perplexed as
to what the psychological filters were through which
Adorno had experienced this musical form which was
basically American in its origins. Although he
indicated it was jazz he was writing about I was
unable to recognize the jazz I thought I knew through
his description.

The impression I had had of Jazz was that it was, and

was intended to be, an extended and developed form
of improvisation requiring of its participants an on-
going, on the spot, invention. While there were
numerous technical requirements demanded of the
instrumentalist imposed upon him by the nature of
the instrument he played what he played was
available to the immediacy of his abilities to invent,
related and in response, it seemed, to what had
already preceded. So there were rules but these rules
were not predetermined ones, laid out conventionally
by some unknown determinant and seen as rigid
formulations, untransgressed by the obedient and
accurate performer. They, the sounds we hear, were,
if not exactly there by rules, they were, rather, the
immediate sensual responses the player cum
composer had to what he had heard, thus recognizing
the sensual aspects of the art involved.

In the instance of jazz the performer was always and

at the same time also the composer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meR5nk8WaLE

My first introduction to that concept of visual art

production came through Arthur Deshaies when he
taught at The Rhode
Arthur Deshaies: untitled. This work is the only one available to me for
inclusion here that approached what I remember having seen the artist do
and respond to when attempting to allow his nervous system to transpose
what he heard in a Mozart piece to a space-contained two-dimensional
plane surface enriched by the addition of a color spectrum and graphic
configurations. The leap from the auditory to the visual is what was
attempted by the artist in the late 1940’s.

Island School of Design nearly six decades ago. At the

time I could not truly and effectively follow what he
told and what he showed me for it diverted too much
from my expectations. I was a conventionally cautious
adventurer.

However, it was at about the same time that I also

had been introduced to aspects of music through the
efforts of Barbara Sessions, the first wife of the
American composer Roger Sessions. She, at that time,
was also a source at the Rhode Island School of
Design functioning there as the librarian. But it was in
her apartment on Beacon Hill in Boston that she tried
to outline for me some aspects of the structure of
music.

Apparently, what these individuals did was sufficient

to have me eventually deepen and broaden my
apperceptive appreciation for the organization of
sense data. What both Arthur Deshaies and Barbara
Sessions were trying to do was to help me become
aware, to begin with, of organization as such, that is
to say, that things heard and things seen as marks,
can be organized and that the important thing about
the activity of art creation was how one went about
organizing that material. The reasons that some find
it necessary to organize that material in the first
place is quite another, but equally fascinating,
question.

The point at which these Deshaies-Sessions lessons

come together is in the singular work of Beethoven’s
ninth symphony. I had, of course, from time to time,
heard exulting comments about this work and
glowing statements about how great a composer
Beethoven was and I imagine that I took these
exultations as a matter of course some what the way
one understands the meaning of other social, quasi-
religious ceremonies…not too seriously, but
meaningful formalities. But these descriptive
statements were not my experiences with the work
and my experiences with the work were very
meaningful indeed.

I do not intend to trivialize or minimize the

experience of listening to the Ninth Symphony when I
compare it to breaking open a warm breakfast
popover and watching the butter flow its way into the
exploded crevices of pastry or the experience of
watching toffee being pulled this way and that in ever
expanding and deepening vistas of space, or the
prayerful helplessness one feels in riding a complex
roller coaster up and down and around to the left and
to the right. These sorts of experiences in contrast to
those with which one is confronted when faced with
most of Andy Warhol and a host of other providers
are aesthetically rich experiences.

I should add, at this time, that it was a video tape of

the performance of Beethoven’s Ninth directed by
Kurt Masur of the orchestra of the Gewandhaus
Orchestra in Leipsig that was the catalytic source for
this understanding of the nature of aesthetic
comprehension. I was ecstatic when I became aware
of what my sensors were experiencing about the way
Masur enunciated, accented and revealed the
interwoven structure of that sound.

It is through such an array of aesthetic filters that we,

as analysts, view any aesthetic experience.
Understanding that this is what we do should lead us
to expect that a system of criticism that does not
nearly constantly recheck the validity of its responses
does disservice to itself and the community it serves.

I have found the process of developing a

comprehensive criticism, or better described as
analysis, of an individual’s creative efforts, even that
of a period or epoch, both so challenging and
fascinating that it might most accurately be described
as a process through which one gets reintroduced to
oneself…or, we might say, it is a process of exercising
empathy. I shall also elaborate that statement by
adding the observation that the process seems little
understood by those whose academic approach to
understanding experience depends on the learned
classroom lessons and not on the evaluation of one’s
own experience.

It seems an unlikely place for one to have learned

something about vocal production but at one time
being at loose ends and impoverished and staying for
a week-end in a strange city, I believe it was New York
City and the place was the Y.M.C.A. I attended an
improvised lecture given by a social and creative
nonentity. In its way the experience was a miracle.
This fellow in his late fifties had brought to the “Y” a
sampling of his collection of early recordings of
Caruso, Gigli, Melchior and Bjorling and in the period
of little more than 45 minutes of sounds coming from
scratchy somewhat wobbly early disk recordings
taught me, I cannot speak for the eight or nine others
who also happened to be there, what it meant to
listen in order to hear and to do so beyond the
interference of the mechanics of reproduction.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJeWUV-LIyE I don’t think this is the one I

had originally heard, but it should do.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJL1LqX9Uao I had tried to locate a video

by Gigli but was unsuccessful, but wanted, at least, to secure a vocal tone that approached
what I have in mind

When I questioned a later Cultural Affairs Officer, James Rutherford, as to the process of
making decisions as to who does get exhibited in The Governor’s Gallery, he told me that
he made the decision. I asked James what background he had in art and he replied that he
had had an undergraduate course in art appreciation. The secretary to the wife of the
Governor also helped in he selection of exhibitors and she had a Masters In Business
Administration. The Governor’s wife also helped decide whose work was to be
exhibited. “And what are her qualifications?” I asked. James whispered: “She’s the
Governor’s wife.”
Santa Fe, New Mexico provided several other
interestingly amusing, but tragic instances of
organized deception. On one, rather acceptable,
occasion Forrest Fenn, the then director of the Fen
Gallery together with John Connelly, the former
Governor of Texas who had been with John Kennedy
when he was assassinated brought together an
exhibit of fakes by the French faker Elmyr de Hory.
Forrest had been upset by one of my published
comments referring to one of his artists (Eric Sloane)as
an “illustrator”. Firstly, Forrest would never have
been upset had he known the difference, for he would
have seen it. Secondly, he would never have moments
later, had he known anything about art, asked me to
step into his private living room, hand me a postcard
with the reproduction of one of Gauguin’s Tahitian
works and, forbidding me to approach the
mantelpiece, ask me to tell him which of the two, the
post card or the painting over the mantle was
genuine. I was stunned by the question because it
was one totally impossible to answer intelligently
because it was one not asked intelligently.

Well, after all, Forrest was a retired Air Force Major

and I had no right to expect an intelligent question
from him in the arena of art, despite the fact that,
through his social charm, he had become immensely
successful. It was the charm, not knowledge, that
accounted for his success and what difference did it
make to the bottom line whether something was
genuine or not.

Forrest did make the statement that he would be just

as happy selling plumbing as art. However, the
association of a charming salesman and a politician
allegedly involved in the assassination of President
Kennedy in presenting for exhibition the works of a
known fraud seems to spell out a rather cavalier
attitude toward a legitimate aesthetic experience. It
works, of course, because much of the buying public
is also ignorant.
“Dear Mr. Sloane, I was glad to receive as a gift, your painting of sickles, which
symbolize the labor of people.

I fully share you opinion on the great importance that their ideological content of a
painting has in real art. That’s why the art which reflects mutual expectations of the
peoples, their expectations for peace and for peaceful labor, fore friendship and
cooperation, deserves the greatest recognition and respect.

I was glad to learn that the exhibit (sic) was highly appreciated by art lovers of our
country.

Wishing you further success.

(Signed) L. Brezhnev”

It might well be that Mr. Brezhnev is knowledgeable as an art critic, but

these comments are NOT art critical comments they are clearly
political and Mr. Sloane is at least mislead, if not also, at fault, for
having confused the two. On the other hand operhaps the only thing he
really wants is a buying public of Communists. But isn’t that something
of an oxymoron, an art buying public of communists?
More recently, this time in Europe, we have the
example of a French artist securing the support of the
French Ambassador. One can not be certain what
views the Ambassador might hold about this man’s
work for it is his job the give support to citizens of
France, BUT, in the minds of the general public, a
public generally ignorant of what makes for good art,
the association means that “if the government
supports his art it must be good.” I cannot help but
ask, at least myself, if M. L’Ambassadeur isn’t just a
little embarrassed at having to be so duplicitous.

Well, he doesn’t seem to be and it, the exhibition,

isn’t. It is one of the most offensive exhibitions ever
held anywhere. Personally, I am amazed and more
than bewildered that respectable people with,
presumably, a liberal education, could lend
themselves to such a pernicious fraud. As an educator
I must protest. As an artist I have been made ill.

Raphael Labro: “Maltese Goddess”

 LICATA, Sicily, ITALY
2 September 2007 from
6 pm at Zodiaco Gallery

ITALY-MALTA BIENNALE Satellite

Show

RAPHAEL LABRO receiving the

MALTA BIENNALE Special Award
from Dame Francoise Tempra
(Founder-President) & the City
of LICATA Award from Dott.ssa
Enza Prestino(Vice-President
Southern Italy), with (from left)
Penelope Labro. Dr Piero
Mancuso (Vice-President
Southern Italy) & Dott.ssa Rosy
Ballachino

Raphael Labro with Jean-Marc

Rives, French Ambassador to Malta

Here we have Labro, with Jean-Marc

Rives the French Ambassador to Malta
flanked by the Madame and Monsieur
former Maltese Ambassador to France.

There were several other photographs

of this nature which, to my mind,
seriously raises the question as to what
this exhibition was all about.
RAPHAEL LABRO conquered the art loving public
with his Maltese goddesses when he received a
SPECIAL AWARD by the President of the 2007
MALTA International (105 Nations) ART BIENNALE
(inaugurated on 19th May 2007 in Malta by the
President Emeritus of the Republic of Malta and
former President of the General Assembly at the
UNITED NATIONS, Prof.Guido de Marco), at the
opening of the satellite show in ITALY (last of the
2007 Malta Biennale satellite shows after CANADA,
USA, IVORY COAST, PORTUGAL, FRANCE and
GERMANY) on 2nd September 2007 in Licata, Sicily.

Malta Biennale Award Wining Yogi Goddess by Labro >>>

Where, I ask, is the critical attitude. I do not mean by this an attitude

of disapproval, I mean simply an intelligent and knowledgeable way of
looking at something.

I might credit that early experience at the “Y” with

having developed, in part, an understanding of the
personal approaches to vocal production inherent in
the work of Kirsten Flagstad, Maria Callas, Judy
Garland and Beverly Sills to which one might add the
adjoining adjectives, precision, emotion experienced,
emotion invited and ego-rooted frivolousness…and all
of these qualities, it is my belief, stem from the
personalities involved and not from the music.

The following excerpts of Garland and Callas, both

dramatic presenters may demonstrate the breadth of
expression allowed, varyingly allowed, despite the
restrictions imposed by musical notation.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=u3gi51ZJ0lI

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=rY6z7Au19Qo

It is my belief that the critic of the plastic arts must

attempt the same goal. The final product cannot be
separated from the personality producing it without
affecting some serious injury to both the process of
creation and its power to communicate.
Certainly one of the most plastic of plastic arts is the
cinema. I do envy, sometimes, its power to
communicate and it highly impressive successes have
without any doubt whatever caused me to wonder
why anyone would chose to be a painter, a sculptor or
a printmaker when one could spend one’s time more
effectively making films, the rewards are generally
greater in film making, but then, so are the losses,
but both of these are shared with others for the
cinema is an art form that requires cooperation and
one of the characteristics of the practitioners of the
other plastics arts is they prefer to be alone.

It would be difficult, for example, to imagine a Paul

Cézanne, Francis Bacon, Toulouse lautrec, Vincent van
Gogh, or a Michelangelo walking down the equivalent
of the red carpet in Cannes to receive an award from
a peer committee of appraisers. In fact, it would be
difficult to imagine a committee of competent judges
willing to function in the required capacity being
formed from among the population of concerned
persons although such attempts are made regularly.
It is, in fact, very, very difficult for me to imagine
Vincent Van Gogh in a tux.

Basically the difference between the film and the

other plastic arts is that film is an art medium
designed for a large audience and painting, sculpture,
prints and the like are more likely to be enjoyed by
one person at a time, or, at the most, by less than a
half dozen. Even if it is an item in constant public
view only a very few in attendance ever offer more
than a casual glance in its direction and then they
frequently fail to stay in rapt concentration for the
90+ minutes which is the usual length of a feature
film. Even a three-hour theatrical performance
frequently fails to have the impact of a well-organized
film.

I think this is true of the very famous work

“Prometheus” seen everyday by hundreds of people
at Rockefeller Center as well as thousands of other
works of public art.

Paul Manship: Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, 1934

They and those in museums and private collections

require, if they are to be looked at intelligently,
several minutes and often several repetitions of
minutes to be fully comprehended.

Time, as human beings measure it, and a certain kind

of mental concentration are required if works of art,
no matter what the genre, are to be understood and
legitimately and appropriately appreciated.

It is this factor of time and that of the special

concentration that brings about a change in the
observer, as Bernard Berenson might have phrased it
“a life-enhancing experience”.

It is relatively easier for the film to bring about a rapt

attention from the observer, in part because the
images are moving and the sound is captivating by its
own merits, than it is for a sculpture by Henry Moore
or a painting by Claude Monet to engage the
observer’s attention.

Henry Moore: Knife

Eduard Monet: Rouen Cathedral

We might pose the question, however, as to whether

there are changes that take place in the observer and
if there are what are they and how might they differ,
if they differ, from those brought about as a result of
a film which lasts 90 or 120 minutes. I recall having
listened to the radio program called I believe “The
Shadow” which has as its theme statement.. “Who
knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men…the
Shadow knows”. Thirty minutes, actually somewhat
less, exposure to some of those programs and I have
had memories and responses to subliminal clues that
have lasted a lifetime. Also, the experiences of fright
were shareable with one’s friends and a mocking
repetition of the “who knows what evil…” would be
enough to bind two boys together as friends or pals
for a significant period of their lives. I have
witnessed two strangers shedding much of their
reserve when it became clear that they both were
enthusiastic appreciators of the works of Paul
Cézanne…an unusual but actual event illustrative, I
think, of the importance of art works in the creation
of a civilizing bond of shared emotional experiences.
On the other hand I have, regrettably, more often
witnessed a division characterized by mutual hostility
develop between two people when it became clear
their resources for shared emotional responses were
very limited. I remember as a child on the 17th of
March, St. Patrick’s Day that should someone dare
wear orange they would be summarily beaten up. This
provides us with a very rudimentary illustration of
how information received visually can excite passions
and provide instruction.

On a somewhat higher level there have been

occasions when the visual experience alone dissolved
the body’s ability to support itself or to keep its
emotional responses in check. A retrospective
exhibition of Vincent van Gogh’s work accomplished
this at one time as did the interior of San Vitali in
Ravenna.
Vincent Van Gogh: “Starry Night”

San Vitali, Ravenna: 6th century Byzantine

In the area of film it was Federico Felini’s “Satyricon”

“Prospero’s Books” by Peter Greenaway and “Our
Hitler” by Hans-Jurgen Syvberberg which I have found
among the most effective filmic experiences.
Greenaway: “Prospero’s Books”

Sybergberg: “Our Hitler”

In short, the aesthetic response which this website

{www.tcp.com.mt} is supposed to be about, is a
highly complex, interrelated field of study which,
unlike many others, very nearly insists on self-
examination.

One must add that, with the self being so inseparably

involved, one cannot help but to develop in some
direction or another. The process is an adventure of
considerable fascination.

I hope all who happen upon this website get out of it

all that they can and as much as they need.

Have at it!
 Recently, I clicked with my mouse, on a video of a
crowd in Seattle demonstrating against the war in
Iraq and the generally expected one in Iran and as a
companion and I agreed, the music accompanying it
was actually interpreting the event for us.
<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOkn2Fg7R8w>ht
tp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOkn2Fg7R8w
This observation reminds me of Brezhnev’s response
to Jaime Wyeth in response to the Soviets’
antagonism to non-figurative art. It was “Do not
underestimate the power of an image”. I consider it
good advice and admit to being somewhat surprised
that a hard-nosed politician could have been
reflective enough to have arrived at the conclusion.
But that is a two way street and quite likely explains
why Eric Sloane….the American painter created an
image of a syckel and sent it as a gift to…. Who, of
course, sent a letter of appreciation back to Mr.Sloane
who, of course, and, in turn, made it public all,
presumably in an effort to boost his sales with the
impression that if world leaders understand my art
you common folk had better start buying it…somehow
a nore capitalistic approach to negotiating worldly
events than idealistic communism espouses…and the
Communist leader was, no doubt, fully aware of in
what he was a conspirator.

All this, in the base interest of deceiving the rest of

man kind. Satan is the father of lies we have been
told.

When I questioned a later Cultural Affairs Officer, James Rutherford, as to the process of
making decisions as to who does get exhibited in The Governor’s Gallery, he told me that
he made the decision. I asked James what background he had in art and he replied that he
had had an undergraduate course in art appreciation. The secretary to the wife of the
Governor also helped in his selection of exhibitors and she had a Masters In Business
Administration. The Governor’s wife also helped decide whose work was to be
exhibited. “And what are her qualifications?” I asked. James whispered: “She’s the
Governor’s wife.”

Georgia O’Keeffe, the American artist observing Clara

Apodaca, the wife of the then Governor of New
Mexico.