quinta-feira, setembro 08, 2016

Arte - ou a arte da ambiguidade
[Ou como é o nosso cérebro que finaliza as pinturas]


Leitor, a quem muito agradeço, enviou-me um vídeo interessantíssimo. Nele Eric Kandel, neurocientista que já recebeu um Nobel, disserta sobre um tema que me é especialmente caro. Arte.

O que é aquela coisa especial, difícil de verter em palavras, que transforma uma obra numa obra-prima?

O que ele diz agrada-me particularmente (afinal não sou uma maluca encartada!) pois, como bem sabe quem por aqui me acompanha, em arte, nomeadamente em pintura, prefiro a abstração ou o pouco explícito ao que é tão perfeito que parece uma fotografia. É que eu, quando olho para uma pintura, não procuro ver uma réplica de alguma coisa que existe mas, sim, alguma coisa que nunca vi, que não sei o que é, que não precisa de ser a representação do que quer que seja. 

Um àparte: Eric Kandel publicou um livro, Reductionism in Art and Brain Science e, para a capa, escolheu uma pintura de Mark Rothko.


Mas voltando à tese que ele explana no vídeo: a chave da questão, conforme abaixo poderão ouvir, reside na ambiguidade que permite que seja cada um, ao observar a obra, a adaptá-la (ie, a vê-la) tal como lhe parece.

Abaixo do vídeo, transcrevo, na íntegra, as palavras de Eric Kandel, pois talvez seja mais fácil de acompanhar. Vou juntar ao texto as duas pinturas que são referidas como exemplo.

How Your Brain Finishes Paintings
ou
How Art Can Inform Brain Science, and Vice Versa



The idea that a painting is not complete until the viewer responds to it was conceived of by Alois Riegl. He determined that as art evolved, you see there's a conscious attempt on the part of the painter to paint people who look at you, who interact with you.


Transcrição

We don't have a deep understanding of the Beholder's Response, but it's interesting that if you put together what we know from disorders of brain function and the normal physiology, we begin to understand an outline what the beholder's response is. And this is so important because in 1906 when Freud was active and Klimt, Kokoschka e Schiele, the artists, were active, there was a major person at the Vienna School of Artistry called Alois Riegl. And he said that the problem with art history is, it's going to go down the tubes because it's too anecdotal, it's too descriptive, it doesn't have enough of a science base. It's got to become more scientific. And the science it should relate itself to is psychology. And the key problem that it should address right off is the beholder's share. You have a painting, that painting is not complete until the viewer responds to it. 

It's obvious once you say it, you know, this is why it was painted in the first place. But he pointed out; this has become more explicit in the history of art. If you look at Renaissance art, particularly early Renaissance art, it's very inner directed. And he points to a painting in Florence of the Trinity in Santa Maria Novella painted by Masaccio, which has one of the early paintings to show you a wonderful sense of perspective. You see Christ on the cross, you see Mary and Joseph, they're turning toward him. God is above, he looks down, the two donnas at the side, they're looking -- they're all looking at Christ. It's a very inner directed picture and it doesn't really recruit the involvement of the beholder dramatically. But as art evolved, particularly when you move to Dutch art, which Riegl was very impressed with, you see that there's a conscious attempt on the part of the painter to paint people who look at you, who interact with you. And that made him aware of the fact of how important the beholder was and to try to understand how does the beholder's response works. 

He had two very gifted students, Ernst Kris and Ernst Gombrich, and they began to put this on a really rigorous basis. Ernst Kris said, "Great works are great because they are ambiguous." They allow for alternative readings. 

So you and I look at that Masaccio painting, we would have somewhat different responses to it which means that the beholder's share varies for each of us because we see somewhat different things in the painting. 

Now, what does that mean? He said, if that means that beholder's share varies, it means you and I must be creating different images in our brain about that particular portrait. So even though you and I are looking at the same object in the world, we are creating slightly different visual impressions in the mind. Emotional impressions in our mind are looking at this. And they began to document it. First he and then Gombrich showed you how you can trick the mind into alternate interpretations with illusions of various kinds. And they began to realize that when you look at a painting, you're undergoing a creative experience that is at least an outline similar to the painter.  


The painter exercises a dramatic amount of creativity in doing a portrait, but you, yourself, generate a fair amount of creativity in reconstructing it in your head and reconstructing it in a way that is unique for you and it's slightly different for me. This was a remarkable insight and has really given rise to the sort of the current understanding of what goes on in our head. 

The painting, the Mona Lisa, by Leonardo da Vinci is generally considered one of the greatest masterpieces in western art. And the reason it's so great is for the same reason we talked about before. It has a great deal of ambiguity. And ambiguity is what brings out difference of interpretation. It makes -- it contributes to work being great. And with her, one of the very specific points of ambiguity is the nature of her facial expression. Is she smiling or is she not? And there's been endless discussions about this. And we want to understand why does that ambiguity arise? And there are two major interpretations. One is, it's the form of painting that Leonardo used in which he purposely paints over the edges of the mouth, a technique called Sfumato smoke. So it's a little bit hazy and not clearly outlined, and that gives rise to the ambiguity. And Marge Livingston has made the point, it's how you focus on it. If you focus on it with central vision, which sees detail, you don't see the smile. If you focus on peripheral vision, which sees the broad outlines, you do better at seeing the smile.  
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5 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

Kokoschka e Schiele.

Um Jeito Manso disse...

Olá Anónimo,

Of course!!!!

Eu ao Klimt ainda fui (lá está Klink) mas os outros não apenas não os reconheci como não consegui perceber o que ele diz. Agora parece-me óbvio. Gracias!

Já lá corrigi.

Uma boa noite!

Anónimo disse...

É uma Anónima, hoje não está boa nas deduções.

Um Jeito Manso disse...

Olá Anónima!

Foi tão minimalista que pensei que era coisa de homem de poucas palavras...

Mas pelo style do seu remoque até estava capaz de adivinhar quem era...!

bea disse...

Bolas, eu pensava que não era uma grande descoberta, pensava mesmo que era assim, a arte sozinha e sem contempladores não está completa. Falta o sentido - os múltiplos sentidos que, parece, a ambiguidade lhe confere e que pelo visto, a tornam cara a vários níveis e vária em quem contempla. Mas se calhar não é bem disto que fala o senhor, que o meu inglês é uma pobreza. Também não faz grande diferença. Para mim, é.