(soft orchestral music)
- At any time between 1750 and 1930,
if you had asked educated people
to describe the aim of poetry, art, or music,
they would've replied, beauty.
(soft orchestral music)
And if you had asked for the point of that,
you would've learned that beauty is a value
as important as truth and goodness.
(soft orchestral music)
Then in the 20th century, beauty stopped being important.
Art increasingly aimed to disturb
and to break moral taboos.
It was not beauty, but originality,
however achieved and at whatever moral cost
that won the prizes.
(soft opera music)
Not only has art made a cult of ugliness,
architecture too has become soulless and sterile
and is not just our physical surroundings
that have become ugly.
Our language, our music, and our manners
are increasingly raucous, self-centered,
and offensive, as if beauty and good taste
have no real place in our lives.
One word is written large on all these ugly things,
and that word is me.
My profits, my desires, my pleasures,
and art has nothing to say in response to this
except yeah, go for it.
I think we are losing beauty,
and there is a danger that with it,
we will lose the meaning of life.
(soft orchestral music)
(lively orchestral music)
I'm Roger Scruton, philosopher and writer.
My trade is to ask questions.
During the last few years,
I have been asking questions about beauty.
Beauty has been central to our civilization
for over 2000 years.
From its beginnings in ancient Greece,
philosophy has reflected on the place of beauty
in art, poetry, music, architecture, and everyday life.
(lively orchestral music)
Philosophers have argued that through
the pursuit of beauty,
we shape the world as a home.
We also come to understand our own nature
as spiritual beings.
But our world has turned its back on beauty,
and because of that, we find ourselves
surrounded by ugliness and alienation.
I want to persuade you that beauty matters,
that it is not just a subjective thing,
but a universal need of human beings.
If we ignore this need,
we find ourselves in a spiritual desert.
I want to show you the path out of that desert,
and it is a path that leads to home.
(lively orchestral music)
(lively piano music)
The great artists of the past
were aware that human life is full of chaos and suffering,
but they had a remedy of this,
and the name of this remedy was beauty.
(lively piano music)
The beautiful work of art brings consolation in sorrow
and affirmation in joy.
It shows human life to be worthwhile.
(lively piano music)
Many modern artists have become weary
of this sacred task.
The randomness of modern life, they think,
could not be redeemed by art.
Instead, it should be displayed.
The pattern was set nearly a century ago
by the French artist Marcel Duchamp
who signed a urinal with a fictitious signature,
R. Mutt, and entered it for an exhibition.
His gesture was satirical
designed to mock the world of art
and the snobberies that go with it.
But it has been interpreted in another way,
that showing that anything can be art.
Like a light going on and off.
(light music)
A can of excrement,
or even a pile of bricks.
No longer does art have a sacred status.
No longer does it raise us to a higher moral
or spiritual plane.
It is just one human gesture among others,
no more meaningful than a laugh or a shout.
- I think they're making fun of us.
It's a pile of bricks.
- Art once made a cult of beauty.
Now we have a cult of ugliness instead.
Since the world is disturbing,
art should be disturbing too.
Those who look for beauty in art
are just out of touch with modern realities.
Sometimes, the intention is to shock us,
but what is shocking first time round
is boring and vacuous when repeated.
This makes art into an elaborate joke,
though one that by now has ceased to be funny.
Yet the critics go on endorsing it,
afraid to say that the emperor has no clothes.
Creative art is not achieved just like that,
simply by having an idea.
Of course, ideas can be interesting and amusing,
but this doesn't justify the appropriation
of the label art.
If a work of art is nothing more than an idea,
anybody can be an artist,
and any object can be a work of art.
There is no longer any need
for skill, taste, or creativity.
(mischievous instrumental music)
- What you are also attempting to do,
as I understand it, was devalue the art
as an object simply by saying,
if I say it's a work of art,
that makes it a work of art.
- Yeah, but even the word work of art,
you see, is not so important for me.
I don't care about the word art
because it's been so,
you know, discredited, in such a word.
- [Joan] But you in fact contributed to the discrediting,
didn't you, quite deliberately?
- Deliberately yes.
So I very want to get rid of it
because in a way, many people today
have done away with religion.
- People accepted Duchamp at his own valuation.
I think he did not get rid of art.
He just got rid of creativity.
However, Duchamp's works are still influencing
the course of art today.
Artist Michael Craig-Martin,
who taught several of the young British artists
whose work dominates the art world,
followed Duchamp's example with his own seminal work
called An Oak Tree.
This consists of a glass of water on a shelf
with a text explaining it is an oak tree.
When I first entered St. Peter's
and confronted Michelangelo's Pieta,
for me, that was a transporting experience.
My life was changed by this.
Do you think that someone can have the same experience
with Duchamp's urinal, or perhaps,
with your oak tree, which is after all a similar thing?
- I know that when I was a teenager,
and I first came upon Duchamp,
and I first came upon the ready mades,
I was absolutely stunned in amazement.
I don't think people are overwhelmed
by a sense of beauty when they see the urinal.
It's not meant to be beautiful,
but that doesn't mean that there isn't something about it
that doesn't captivate the imagination,
and I think captivate the imagination
is the key to what an artwork seeks to do.
Duchamp felt that art had become
too interested in techniques,
too interested in optics.
He felt that it had become
intellectually and morally corrupt.
Now his reason for making an artwork
that didn't fit the system was not cynicism.
It was in order to say I'm trying to make an art
that denies all of the things
that people say art should have
because I'm trying to say the central question of art
rests somewhere else.
- I take that point that things had to change.
Duchamp was trying to change them,
but what was he trying to change them to?
- Well, he could never, in his wildest dreams,
have imagined what would happen would happen,
or that he himself, I'm sure he had no idea,
how central the thing was that he had stumbled upon,
that he had come upon,
essentially that a work of art
is a work of art because we think of it as such.
I also think it's important to say
that the notion of beauty has been extended
to include things that would not have been thought of.
That's part of the artist's function,
is to make beautify, make one see something as beautiful,
something that nobody thought was beautiful
up until now.
- Right, like a can of shit.
- Well, I'm not sure that it's beautiful,
but if you take an example
that's not trying to be beautiful,
if you take say Jeff Koons,
Jeff Koons has some things
which are truly astoundingly beautiful.
- [Roger] It's like so much kitsch to me,
but kitsch with sugar on.
- [Michael] This is the subject matter of his work,
not the substance of his work.
- What is the use of this art?
What does it help people to do?
- I think it hopefully allows people
to see the world in which they are living
in a way that gives it more meaning to them,
and it's not the world of an ideal world
of some other world, some better place,
but of the here and now,
of the world that they're in,
and are trying to live more at ease
within the world that they're given.
(discordant instrumental music)
- So the art of today shows us the world as it is.
The here and now and all its imperfections.
But is the result really art?
Surely something is not a work of art
because it offers a slice of reality,
ugliness included, and calls itself art.
("Cello Suite Number One" by Bach)
Art needs creativity,
and creativity is about sharing.
It is a call to others to see the world
as the artist sees it.
That is why we find beauty
in the naive art of children.
Children are not giving us ideas
in the place of creative images,
nor are they wallowing in ugliness.
They are trying to affirm the world as they see it
and to share what they feel.
Something of the child's pure delight in creation
survives in every true work of art.
But creativity is not enough,
and the skill of the true artist
is to show the real in the light of the ideal,
and so, transfigure it.
This is what Michelangelo achieves
in his great portrayal of David.
But when we encounter a concrete cast of the David,
perhaps it's part of some garden arrangement,
it is not beautiful at all,
for it lacks the essential ingredient of creativity.
(upbeat electronic music)
(soft instrumental music)
Discussions of the kind I have been having are dangerous.
In our democratic culture,
people often think it is threatening
to judge another person's taste.
Some are even offended by the suggestion
that there is a difference between good and bad taste,
or that it matters what you look at
or read or listen to.
But this doesn't help anybody.
There are standards of beauty
which have a firm base in human nature,
and we need to look for them
and build them into our lives.
Maybe people have lost their faith in beauty
because they have lost their belief in ideals.
All there is, they are tempted to think,
is the world of appetite.
There are no values other than utilitarian ones.
Something has a value if it has a use,
and what's the use of beauty?
All art is absolutely useless wrote Oscar Wilde,
who intended his remark as praise.
For Wilde, beauty of a value higher than usefulness.
People need useless things
just as much as, even more than
they need things with a use.
Just think of it.
What is the use of love, of friendship, of worship?
None whatsoever.
And the same goes for beauty.
Our consumer society puts usefulness first,
and beauty is no better than a side effect.
Since art is useless, it doesn't matter what you read,
what you look at, what you listen to.
♫ I see you baby
♫ Shaking that ass
We are besieged by message on every side,
titillated, tempted by appetite,
never at rest, and that is one reason
why beauty is disappearing from our world.
♫ Shaking that ass
Getting and spending, wrote Wordsworth,
we lay waste our powers.
♫ Shaking that ass
In our culture today,
the advert is more important than the work of art,
and artworks often try to capture our attention
as adverts do, by being brash or outrageous,
like this bejeweled platinum skull by Damien Hirst.
Lie adverts, today's works of art
aim to create a brand, even if they have no product to sell,
except themselves.
(crowd chattering)
(somber orchestral music)
(building collapsing and shattering)
Beauty is assailed from two directions,
by the cult of ugliness in the arts
and by the cult of utility in everyday life.
These two cults come together
in the world of modern architecture.
(somber orchestral music)
At the turn of the 20th century,
architects, like artists, began to be impatient with beauty
and to put utility in its place.
The American architect, Louis Sullivan,
expressed the credo of the modernists
when he said that form follows function.
In other words, stop thinking about
the way a building looks
and think instead about what it does.
Sullivan's doctrine has been used
to justify the greatest crime against beauty
that the world has yet seen,
and that is the crime of modern architecture.
(tense instrumental music)
I grew up near Reading,
which was a charming Victorian town
with terraced streets and Gothic churches
crowned by elegant public buildings
and smart hotels.
But in the 1960s, things began to change.
Here, in the center, the homely streets were demolished
to make way for office blocks, a bus station, and car parks,
all designed without consideration for beauty,
and the result proves as clearly as can be
that if you consider only utility,
the things you build will soon be useless.
This building is boarded up
because nobody has a use for it.
Nobody has a use for it
because nobody wants to be in it.
Nobody wants to be in it
because the thing is so damned ugly.
(somber instrumental music)
Everywhere you turn, there is ugliness and mutilation.
The offices and bus station have been abandoned.
The only things at home here
are the pigeons fouling the pavements.
Everything has been vandalized.
But we shouldn't blame the vandals.
This place was built by vandals,
and those who added the graffiti
merely finished the job.
Most of our towns and cities have areas like this
in which buildings erected merely for their utility
have rapidly become useless,
not that architects learned from the disaster.
(explosion)
(glass crashing and shattering)
When the public began to react
against the brutal concrete style of the 1960s,
architects simply replaced it
with a new kind of junk, glass walls
hung on steel frames with absurd details
that don't match.
Result is another kind of failure to fit.
It is there simply to be demolished.
(funky music)
(light music)
In the midst of all this desolation,
we find a fragment of the streets that were destroyed.
Once a forge, now a cafe.
People come here from all around
because it is the last bit of life remaining,
and the life comes from the building.
(light music)
This returns me to Oscar Wilde's remark
that all art is absolutely useless.
Put usefulness first, and you lose it.
Put beauty first, and what you do
will be useful forever.
It turns out that nothing is more useful
than the useless.
(light music)
We see this in traditional architecture
with its decorative details.
Ornaments liberate us from the tyranny of the useful
and satisfy our need for harmony.
In a strange way, they make us feel at home.
They remind us that we have more than practical needs.
We are not just governed by animal appetites
like eating and sleeping.
We have spiritual and moral needs too,
and if those needs go unsatisfied, so do we.
(soft orchestral music)
We all know what it is like
even in the everyday world
suddenly to be transported by the things we see
from the ordinary world of our appetites
to the illuminated sphere of contemplation.
A flash of sunlight, a remembered melody,
the face of someone loved, these dawn on us
in the most distracted moments,
and suddenly, life is worthwhile.
(soft orchestral music)
These are timeless moments
in which we feel the presence of another and higher world.
From the beginning of Western civilization,
poets and philosophers have seen the experience of beauty
as calling us to the divine.
Plato, writing in Athens in the fourth century BC,
argued that beauty is the sign
of another and higher order.
Beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, he wrote,
you will be able to nourish true virtue
and become the friend of God.
Plato was an idealist.
He believed that human beings are pilgrims
and passengers in this world
while always aspiring beyond it
to the eternal realm where we will be united with God.
God exists in a transcendental world
to which we humans aspire,
but which we cannot know directly.
But one way of glimpsing that heavenly sphere here below
is through the experience with beauty.
This leads to a paradox.
For Plato, beauty was first and foremost
the beauty of the human face and the human form.
The love of beauty, he thought,
originates in eros, a passion that all of us feel.
We would call this passion romantic love.
For Plato, eros was a cosmic force
which flows through us in the form of sexual desire.
But if human beauty arouses desire,
how can it have anything to do with the divine?
Desire is for the individual living in this world.
It is an urgent passion.
Sexual desire presents us with a choice,
adoration or appetite, love or lust.
Lust is about taking, but love is about giving.
Lust brings ugliness, the ugliness of human relations
in which one person treats another
as a disposable instrument.
To reach the source of beauty,
we must overcome lust.
(playful instrumental music)
(somber instrumental music)
This longing without lust is what we mean today
by platonic love.
When we find beauty in a youthful person,
it is because we glimpse the light of eternity
shining in those features
from a heavenly source beyond this world.
(soft instrumental music)
The beautiful human form is an invitation
to unite with it spiritually, not physically.
Our feeling for beauty is, therefore,
a religious and not a sensual emotion.
(soft instrumental music)
This theory of Plato's is astonishing.
Beauty, he thought, is a visitor from another world.
We can do nothing with it save contemplate
its pure radiance.
Anything else pollutes and desecrates it,
destroying its sacred aura.
(soft instrumental music)
Plato's theory may seem quaint to people today,
but it is one of the most influential theories in history.
Throughout our civilization,
poets, storytellers, painters, priests, and philosophers
have been inspired by Plato's views on sex and love.
If we are to just look in the poetry corner
as to then books by people who have tried to express
the Platonic vision of the erotic,
let's see who there is.
Thomas Malory's Morte d'Arthur, John Donne Here and There,
Gawain and the Green Knight, Chaucer,
especially The Knight's Tale,
The Poems of the Pearl Manuscript,
incredible expressions of the Platonic love here,
Cavalcanti, who is the master of Dante,
and Dante himself definitely,
oh Spencer of course, The Fairy Queen,
Dafydd ap Gwilym, to take the Welsh version of it all,
The Women Troubadours, Christina Rosetti.
I don't believe it more Victorian about it.
Ah, so it goes on.
(soft instrumental music)
The early Renaissance painter Sandro Botticelli
illustrated the theory in this famous painting,
which shows the birth of Venus, goddess of erotic love.
Venus looks on the world from a place beyond desire.
She is inviting us to transcend our earthly appetites
and unite with her through the pure love of beauty.
Botticelli's model was Simonetta Vespucci.
Botticelli loved her until the end of her short life
and actually asked to be buried at her feet.
She represented to him Plato's ideal.
This was beauty to be contemplated but not possessed.
(soft instrumental music)
Plato and Botticelli are telling us
that real beauty lies beyond sexual desire,
so we can find beauty not only in a desirable young person
but also in a face full of age, grief, and wisdom,
such as Rembrandt painted.
(soft instrumental music)
The beauty of a face is a symbol
of the life expressed in it.
It is flesh become spirit,
and in fixing our eyes on it,
we seem to see right through into the soul.
Painters like Rembrandt are important
for showing us that beauty is an ordinary,
everyday kind of thing.
It lies all around us.
We need only the eyes to see it
and the hearts to feel.
The most ordinary event can be made
into something beautiful by a painter
who can see into the heart of things.
(soft instrumental music)
So long as the belief in a transcendental god
was firmly anchored in the heart of our civilization,
artists and philosophers continued to think of beauty
in Plato's way.
Beauty was the revelation of God
in the here and now.
This religious approach to the beautiful
lasted for 2000 years.
But in the 17th century, the scientific revolution
began to sow the seeds of doubt.
(soft instrumental music)
The medieval church accepted the ancient view
that the Earth lies at the center of the universe.
Then, Copernicus and Galileo proved that the Earth
circles the sun, and Newton completed their work,
describing a clockwork universe
in which each moment follows mechanically
from the one before.
(soft instrumental music)
This was the Enlightenment vision
which described our world
as though there was no place in it
for gods and spirits,
no place for values and ideals,
no place for anything save the regular clockwork movement
which turned the moon around the Earth
and the Earth around the sun
for no purpose whatsoever.
(soft instrumental music)
At the heart of Newton's universe
is a God shaped hole, a spiritual vacuum,
and one philosopher in particular
set out to fill this vacuum.
That is the Third Earl of Shaftesbury.
(light instrumental music)
Science explains things, but, thought Shaftesbury,
its account of the world is in one way incomplete.
We can see the world from another perspective,
not seeking to use it or explain it,
but simply contemplating its appearance
as we might contemplate a landscape or a flower.
(light instrumental music)
The idea that the world is intrinsically meaningful,
full of an enchantment, that it needs no religious doctrine
to perceive answered to a deep emotional need.
Beauty was not planted in the world by God,
but discovered there by people.
(soft instrumental music)
Shaftesbury's idea encouraged the cult of beauty
which raised the appreciation of art and nature
to the place once occupied by the worship of God.
Beauty was to fill the God shaped hole
made by science.
(soft instrumental music)
Artists were no longer illustrators
of the sacred stories who worked as servants of the church.
They were discovering the stories for themselves
by interpreting the secrets of nature.
Landscapes which used to be mere backgrounds
to holy images became foregrounds
with the human figure often lost in their folds.
(soft instrumental music)
But for Shaftesbury, it does not need a work of art
to present us with the beauty of the world.
We simply need to look on things
with clear eyes and free emotions.
Shaftesbury is telling us to stop using things,
stop explaining them and exploiting them,
but look at them instead.
Then we will understand what they mean.
The message of the flower is the flower.
(light instrumental music)
Zen Buddhists have said similar things.
Only by leaving all our interests and business to one side
do we encounter the real truth of the flower.
Seeing things that way, we discover their beauty.
(soft instrumental music)
The greatest philosopher of the Enlightenment,
Immanuel Kant, was profoundly influenced
by Shaftesbury's idea.
Kant argued that the experience of beauty
comes when we put our interests to one side,
when we look on things not in order to use them
for our purposes or to explain how they work
or to satisfy some need or appetite,
but simply to absorb them and to endorse what they are.
(soft instrumental music)
Consider the joy you might feel
when you hold a friend's baby in your arms.
You don't want to do anything with the baby.
You don't want to eat it, to put it to any use,
or to conduct scientific experiments on it.
You want simply to look at it
and to feel the great surge of delight that comes
when you focus all your thoughts on this baby
and none at all on yourself.
(soft instrumental music)
That is what Kant described
as a disinterested attitude,
and it is the attitude that underlies
our experience of beauty.
To explain this is extremely difficult
because if you haven't experienced it,
you don't really know what it is,
but everybody listening to a beautiful piece of music,
looking at a sublime landscape,
reading a poem which seems to contain
the essence of the thing it describes,
everybody in an experience like that
says yes, this is enough.
(soft piano music)
But why is this experience so important?
The encounter with beauty is so vivid,
so immediate, so personal that it seems
hardly to belong to the ordinary world,
yet beauty shines on us from ordinary things.
Is it a feature of the world
or a figment of the imagination?
Most of the time, our lives are organized
by our everyday concerns, but every now and then,
we find ourself jolted out of our complacency
in the presence of something vastly more important
than our immediate desires and interests,
something not of this world.
From Plato to Kant, philosophers have tried
to capture the peculiar way in which beauty dawns on us.
Like a sudden ray of sunlight
or a surge of love.
For Plato, the only explanation of such an experience
was its transcendental origin.
It speaks to us like the voice of God.
And Kant too in a much more sober way
believed that the experience of beauty
connects us with the ultimate mystery of being.
Through beauty, we are brought into the presence
of the sacred.
We can understand what such philosophers mean
if we reflect on what we feel in the presence of death,
especially the death of someone loved.
We look with awe on the human body
from which their life has fled.
We are reluctant to touch the dead body.
We see it as not properly a part of our world,
almost a visitor from some other sphere.
And the same sense of the transcendental
arises in the experience that inspired Plato,
the experience of falling in love.
("Les Contes d'Hoffmann" by Offenbach)
This too is a human universal,
and it is an experience of the strangest kind,
the face and body of the beloved
are imbued with the intensest life,
but in one crucial respect,
they are like the body of someone dead.
They seem not to belong in the everyday world.
Poets have expended thousands of words
on this experience which no words
seem entirely to capture.
But these great changes in the stream of life,
the urge to unite with another person,
the loss of someone loved,
are moments that we understand as sacred.
(discordant instrumental music)
If we look at the history of the idea of beauty,
we see that philosophers and artists
have had good reason to connect the beautiful and the sacred
and to see our need for beauty
as something deep in our nature,
part of our longing for consolation
in a world of danger, sorrow, and distress.
(discordant instrumental music)
Today, many artists look on the idea of beauty with disdain,
a leftover from a vanished way of living
which has no real connection with the world
which now surrounds us.
(discordant instrumental music)
So there has been a desire to desecrate
the experiences of sex and death
by displaying them in trivial and impersonal ways
that destroy all sense of their spiritual significance.
(discordant instrumental music)
Just as those who lose their religion
have an urge to mock the faith that they have lost,
so do artists today feel an urge
to treat human life in demeaning ways
and to mock the pursuit of beauty.
This willful desecration is also a denial of love,
an attempt to remake the world
as though love were no longer a part of it,
and this, it seems to me, is the most important feature
of our post-modern culture,
that it is a loveless culture
determined to portray the human world as unlovable.
(soft instrumental music)
Of course this habit of dwelling
on the distressing side of human life isn't new.
From the beginning of our civilization,
it has been one of the tasks of art
to take what is most painful in the human condition
and to redeem it in a work of beauty.
(man screaming)
- Oh you are men of stones.
Had I your tongues and eyes,
I'd use them so that heaven's vault should crack.
She's gone forever.
(lively piano music)
- Art has the ability to redeem life
by finding beauty even in the worst aspect of things.
Mantegna's crucifixion, displaying the cruelest
and most ugly of deaths,
achieves a kind of majesty and serenity.
It redeems the horror that it shows.
In the face of death, human beings can still show
nobility, compassion, and dignity,
and art helps us to accept death
by presenting it in such a light.
(quick piano music)
What about things which are not tragic
but merely sordid or depraved?
Can art find beauty even here?
(frantic instrumental music)
This painting by Delacroix
shows us the artist's bed in all its sordid disorder.
He too is bringing beauty to a thing that lacks it
and bestowing a kind of blessing
on his own emotional chaos.
Delacroix says, see how these sweat stained sheets
record the troubled dreams,
the tormented energy of the person who has left them,
and how the light picks them out
as though they are still animated by the sleeper.
The bed is transformed by the creative act
to become something else,
a vivid symbol of the human condition,
and one which makes a bond between us and the artist.
(lively cello music)
Some people describe Tracey Emin's bed in that way,
but there is all the difference in the world
between a real work of art
which makes ugliness beautiful
and the fake work of art
which shares the ugliness that it shows.
This is modern life presented
in all its randomness and disorder.
- [David] What is it that makes that art
rather than just a rumpled bed?
- Well, the first thing that makes it art
is because I say that it is.
- [David] You say that it is.
- I say that it is.
- [David] The second thing is the Tate says it is.
But what do you want the viewer,
the visitor to the gallery to say?
You presumably don't want him to say
I think that's beautiful.
- No, no one's actually said that, only me.
- You think it's beautiful?
- Yeah I do. - You do think it's beautiful.
- I think it beautiful yeah.
Otherwise, I wouldn't be sharing it.
- How can this be a beautiful work of art
if it makes no attempt to transform
the raw material of an idea?
It is just one sordid reality among others,
literally an unmade bed.
(light instrumental music)
We are back with the question
raised by Duchamp's urinal
whether anything can be art.
This question occupies both the would-be innovators
and the traditionalists like Alexander Stoddart,
a monumental sculptor whose works stand in public places
around the world as well as in the Queen's gallery
at Buckingham Palace.
A defender of conceptual art
might say that an idea can be beautiful,
so that there's nothing wrong with conceptual art as such.
- Yes, but this is in everybody's field of endeavor.
The lawyer can come up with a beautiful idea.
You know, the statesman, the medic.
Let's cure cancer, a beautiful idea,
but he doesn't say he's an artist in the back of that.
Conceptual art, of course, is entirely world bound.
It is in fact a kind of art that's exhausted
in its veritable description,
so you need to just say,
half a cow in a tank of formaldehyde,
and you're really all the way there.
The object itself then can be dumped.
Tracey Emin's bed is a perfect example of that.
If you walked past a skip in some scheme
and you saw that bed lying there,
you would walk on, but of course,
if you saw even just the torso
of the Apollo Belvedere lying in that skip,
you would be arrested by it,
and you may even climb in and try to retrieve it.
Many students come to me from sculpture departments,
secretly of course, because they don't
want to tell their tutors that they've come
to chat with the enemy,
and they say I try to become a model figure,
and I modeled it in clay, and then a tutor came up
and told me to cut it in half
and dump some diarrhea on top of it,
and that will make it interesting.
- It's what I feel about the kind of
standardized desecration that passes for art these days
is actually a kind of immorality
because it is an attempt to obliterate
meaning from the human form in some way.
- Well it's intent to obliterate knowledge.
(light instrumental music)
- The art establishment has turned away
from the old curriculum
which put beauty and craft at the top of the agenda.
Those like Alexander Stoddart who try to restore
the age old connection between the beautiful
and the sacred are seen as old fashioned and absurd.
(light instrumental music)
The same kind of criticism is aimed at traditionalists
in architecture.
One target is Leon Krier,
architect of the Prince of Wales' model town
of Poundbury.
(light instrumental music)
Designing modest streets, laid out in traditional ways,
using the well tried and much loved details
that have served us down the centuries,
Leon Krier as created a genuine settlement.
The proportions are human proportions.
The details are restful to the eye.
(light instrumental music)
This is not great or original architecture
nor does it try to be.
It is a modest attempt to get things right
by following patterns and examples
laid down by tradition.
This is not nostalgia, but knowledge passed on
from age to age.
Architecture that doesn't respect the past
is not respecting the present
because it is not respecting people's primary need
from architecture, which is to build
a longstanding home.
(lively instrumental music)
I have shown some of the ways
in which artists and architects
have followed the call of beauty.
In doing so, they have given our world meaning.
(lively instrumental music)
The masters of the past recognized
that we have spiritual needs
as well as animal appetites.
For Plato, beauty was a path to God
while thinkers of the Enlightenment
saw art and beauty as ways in which we save ourselves
from meaningless routines
and rise to a higher level.
But art turned its back on beauty.
It became a slave to the consumer culture
feeding our pleasures and addictions
and wallowing in self-disgust.
(lively instrumental music)
That, it seems to me, is the lesson
of the ugliest forms of modern art and architecture.
They do not show reality, but take revenge on it,
spoiling what might have been a home
and leaving us to wander unconsoled and alienated
in a spiritual desert.
Of course it is true that there is much in the world today
that distracts and troubles us.
Our lives are full of leftovers.
We battle through lies and distraction,
and nothing resolves.
(lively instrumental music)
The right response, however,
is not to endorse this alienation.
It is to look for the path back from the desert,
one that will point us to a place
where the real and the ideal may still exist in harmony.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
In my own life, I have found this path
more easily through music
than through any other art form.
Pergolesi was 26 when he wrote the Stabat Mater.
It describes the grief of the holy virgin
beside the cross of the dying Christ.
All the suffering of the world
is symbolized in its exquisite lines.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
Given that Pergolesi was suffering from tuberculosis
when he wrote the Stabat Mater,
he is that son dying on the cross too.
In fact, he died within a few months
of the work's completion.
This is not a complex or ambitious piece of music,
simply a heartfelt expression
of the composer's faith.
It shows the way in which deep and troubling emotions
can achieve unity and freedom through music.
The voice of Mary is written for two singers.
The melody rises slowly, painfully,
resolving dissonance only to be gripped
by another dissonance as the voices clash,
representing the conflict and sorrow within her.
- [Catherine] Why don't I just give you, bar 18?
- [Roger] Okay, good idea.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
- Here we have a very simple and sacred text.
The mother stands grieving and weeping at the cross
on which her son is hanging.
That's really all that you have to say.
- And a completely unmusical person
would be immediately get the message
that it's a piece of grieving, wouldn't they?
There can be no possible doubt about that.
- The music takes over the words
and makes them speak to you
in another language in your own heart.
- Well it means that today, in our secular world,
that it can delight and move
without people having to know.
- [Roger] Yes, exactly.
- What it's about.
- We learn without the theological apparatus
that there is this thing called suffering,
and that it's at the destiny of all of us,
but also is not the end of all of us.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
In this film, I have described beauty
as an essential resource.
Through the pursuit of beauty,
we shape the world as a home,
and in doing so, we both amplify our joys
and find consolation for our sorrows.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
Art and music shine a light of meaning
on ordinary life, and through them,
we are able to confront the things that trouble us
and to find consolation and peace in their presence.
This capacity of beauty too redeem our suffering
is one reason why beauty can be seen
as a substitute for religion.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
Why give priority to religion?
Why not say that religion is a beauty substitute?
Better still, why describe the two as rivals?
The sacred and the beautiful stand side by side,
two doors that open onto a single space,
and in that space, we find our home.
("Stabat Mater" by Pergolesi)
- [Broadcaster] And our Modern Beauty season
continues on Monday night with large scale
pieces of public art challenging the six finalists
of the School of Saatchi at nine.
Next tonight on BBC Two, this week's
Have I Got News For You
complete with extra bits.