I ventured into the loft today to bring down this large original for my daughter’s bedroom wall. It’s the kind of piece that isn’t fashionable these days, but I’ve always thought it had an interesting quality of atmosphere or (to borrow from Wassily Kandinsky) innerer klang even.
I figured, if we experience Kandinsky’s innerer klang (see yesterday’s post), we must definitely experience its opposite. And then I reflected, why should these concepts be confined to the art world, after all is not life, art. Or as the American writer and politician John Gardner put it, “Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.”
It seems, to me, that we are now suffering from life with a surfeit of, what I will call, outerer klang and not enough of the innerer variety. A world where appearances matter, more than much else as far as I can tell. Where the magic of a child’s world is redacted to a list of functional levels at school and where spin and smoke and mirrors make us so dizzy and sick we just don’t have the energy to care about the things we might anymore.
I could go on, but I won’t, otherwise I would be klanging too much as well!