Art as a Concretization of Metaphysics

Last week, I had the special pleasure of attending my friend Barry's seminar entitled "Art as a Concretization of Metaphysics". The distance he traveled to deliver this seminar was far greater than the thousands of miles between Istanbul and Boston. The distance is also measured in years poured into maturing his understanding of Objectivism, of art, of beauty, of cultures, of the languages used to express them, of so much more—in short, of life itself.

Among the measures of success of his seminar were the many positive comments I witnessed as one student after another approached him after each class. Another measure included Mary, who, as a non-Objectivist with sharp disagreements with much of the philosophy, enjoyed Barry's seminar very much. That fact spoke well of the universality of his themes and how well he covered them.

One of those themes was to speak to this question: "What is it in the nature of man that gives rise to art, to his need for it across all times spanning all cultures?" Ayn Rand touches on this question in the Romantic Manifesto. Her description of the function of art can be read here. Barry's seminar did a solid job of fleshing out this idea, of showing how your metaphysical value-judgments affect your choices in things as simple as what to eat for breakfast to career decisions.

A critical point his seminar highlighted was this—man cannot not generalize. His interactions with the world over the course of his life covers countless details. Try to hold them all in your conscious awareness at once. You'll fail, of course. Generalization satisfies man's conceptual faculty, his need to sum up not only what he sees, but also his evaluations of what he sees.

Of course, summing up means leaving out some details. If you try to retain everything, you're back to the original problem—i.e., that you can't hold it all in your conscious awareness. What to leave out necessarily implies what to leave in—i.e., a selective recreation of reality.

There's much more to this topic, of course. Later, I'll refer you to Barry's seminar which should be available on CD some time soon. For now, I just want to make a note of something.

During the seminar, someone asked whether or not an exceptional personality could go without art to fuel his soul in his pursuit of some great value. Barry answered it well, though I don't have good notes on exactly what he said. As I thought more about the question, it dawned on me later that one way to respond would be to make this observation: can you pursue a great value without food or sleep? Yes, for a short time, in an emergency. But, barring an emergency, why would you want to?

Incidentally, this question, too, can give some insight to your metaphysical value-judgments—e.g., do you possess a malevolent universe premise or a benevolent universe premise? For example, do you think emergencies are the norm of life or the exception? Your answer will determine your answers to many concrete specifics—e.g., what career choices you make or what to have for breakfast?

Personally, I was moved by the way Barry ended his seminar. Being deeply reality oriented, he had to share with his class examples of the rubbish that passes for art today. Being deeply reality oriented, he also had to share with his class the hope for the future in romantic art via the romanticism upheld by Ayn Rand's powerhouse ideals. To put it another way, he showed things not only as they are but as they can and ought to be. It was inspiring.