Even though Tolstoy was born into rural aristocracy in 19th Century Russia, he lost his mother at the age of 18 months and his father died when he was 9 years old. The loss of one parent (no less, two) interrupts a childhood, and the effects of such a loss are far reaching and life shaping. Fortunately for Tolstoy, a distant relative, Tatyana Yergolskaya, provided loving care for him and his siblings. In his diaries he writes: “... this influence consisted first in that ever since childhood she taught me the spiritual delight of love. She taught me this, but not in words: by her whole being she filled me with love. I saw, I felt how she enjoyed loving, and I understood the joy of love." (cited in Lavrin, Janko. Tolstoy: An Approach New York: Russell & Russell, 1946, p. 2).
Lavrin also observes that Tolstoy was obsessed with thoughts of death (not uncommon in children who lose a parent(s) at an early age). Lavrin writes: “the idea that death was preying upon [Tolstoy] all the time overcame him so powerfully that he refused to understand how people had failed hitherto to enjoy each passing moment, before everything was snatched away by death.” (Ibid, p. 4)
This combination: the loss of his parents at an early age; the unavoidable question of death intruding upon his life when the psyche is not yet mature enough to contend with it; and the counter balance provided by the unconditional love of a surrogate adult caregiver, all of this must have had a profound effect on Tolstoy’s world view, which would surely be reflected in his attitudes about art.
QUESTION: Does early childhood tragedy contribute to the making of a great artist?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
RESPONSE TO JASON’S QUESTION
Jason asked: "And also there is the view that some people hold that science and art are almost opposites, why is that?"
I like this question because it asks me to look at "science" in a different way, even though I may think I already know what science is, and even if I do not change my mind about what I think science is after I have looked at it differently. I think it is a worthwhile mental exercise to seriously consider if something about which I have long held an opinion, might actually be something else, or might be considered from a new and different perspective. So .... here goes.
Can science actually "be" art? My first instinct is to look at the method of "doing" art vs. the method of "doing" science. Both require critical thinking and creative perspective. A scientist who is designing an experiment has to think critically about the parameters of the population under scrutiny and what creative means may be at hand to measure those parameters to disprove (or prove) a hypothesis.
An artist who is designing a "product of art" (for lack of a better term) must also think critically about the whole of his or her subject, deciding what aspects of the whole universe will be framed in the outcome of the creative endeavor; and certainly, creative thinking is applied to use of the art medium in which the final product will be expressed, whether that be paint, marble, word, or music.
So it appears, thus far, that science and art are on a par with one another. But there are more pages to the book than method alone. I think we must also consider standardization, validation, and purpose.
In science, there are standard procedures, for example, the procedures for a double-blind, control group study of a randomly selected sample of the population under study. There are precise rules which must be strictly followed to avoid invalidation of the experiment results. Is there a similar precision demanded of art?
Any artist with a chisel in hand can tell you how lack of precision can reduce a work of art to a pile of rubble in a heartbeat; any musician will surely agree there is precision in the construction of music, whether the intended outcome is harmony or dissonance, and a painter’s brush strokes, though appearing to be carefree, are in fact the result of precise elements of style and technique developed over time by the artist. So as far as standardization is concerned, art and science are still on a par with each other.
A scientist’s results are under constant peer scrutiny and validation. Replication is the hallmark of good science. Science depends on the ability of experimenters to replicate a scientist’s experiment and produce the same or similar results, thereby validating the conclusions of the original experiment.
In the art world, such replication is called forgery and often results in unpleasant repercussion. Fortunately, there is another kind of art replication that is more amiable. It is said that imitation is the highest form of flattery. Therefore, art students begin to develop their own talent and style by copying the masters. This could be seen as a counterpart to scientific replication, and art and science are still on par.
But I think the last criteria to be considered will part the waters between science and art, and that is purpose. The purpose of science is clear and undisputed: science attempts to disprove an hypothesis. The statistical outcome of the scientist’s inquiry is measured in probability of chance. A scientist will create a hypothetical situation and then set about to prove that the hypothesis is false. If the statistical measurement of the experiment’s results show a 0.05 or less probability that the results occurred due to chance, the hypothesis is considered to be true, despite all the efforts by the experimenter to prove otherwise. (I know, it’s a convoluted approach to finding truth, but there you have it.)
Whatever theories are put forth about the purpose of art, I do not think any of them come close to the purpose of science. I agree that there are “artistic” aspects to the elements of science, but I do not think that makes science an art. In fact, it may be just the opposite.
I recently added a quote to my blog page by the poet, Piet Hein: “There is one art, no more no less, to do all things with artlessness.” I think Hein meant to approach all things as a child would, guileless, as if you were doing it for the first time. So my questions is: How can “artlessness” be a valuable trait for either scientist or artist?
I like this question because it asks me to look at "science" in a different way, even though I may think I already know what science is, and even if I do not change my mind about what I think science is after I have looked at it differently. I think it is a worthwhile mental exercise to seriously consider if something about which I have long held an opinion, might actually be something else, or might be considered from a new and different perspective. So .... here goes.
Can science actually "be" art? My first instinct is to look at the method of "doing" art vs. the method of "doing" science. Both require critical thinking and creative perspective. A scientist who is designing an experiment has to think critically about the parameters of the population under scrutiny and what creative means may be at hand to measure those parameters to disprove (or prove) a hypothesis.
An artist who is designing a "product of art" (for lack of a better term) must also think critically about the whole of his or her subject, deciding what aspects of the whole universe will be framed in the outcome of the creative endeavor; and certainly, creative thinking is applied to use of the art medium in which the final product will be expressed, whether that be paint, marble, word, or music.
So it appears, thus far, that science and art are on a par with one another. But there are more pages to the book than method alone. I think we must also consider standardization, validation, and purpose.
In science, there are standard procedures, for example, the procedures for a double-blind, control group study of a randomly selected sample of the population under study. There are precise rules which must be strictly followed to avoid invalidation of the experiment results. Is there a similar precision demanded of art?
Any artist with a chisel in hand can tell you how lack of precision can reduce a work of art to a pile of rubble in a heartbeat; any musician will surely agree there is precision in the construction of music, whether the intended outcome is harmony or dissonance, and a painter’s brush strokes, though appearing to be carefree, are in fact the result of precise elements of style and technique developed over time by the artist. So as far as standardization is concerned, art and science are still on a par with each other.
A scientist’s results are under constant peer scrutiny and validation. Replication is the hallmark of good science. Science depends on the ability of experimenters to replicate a scientist’s experiment and produce the same or similar results, thereby validating the conclusions of the original experiment.
In the art world, such replication is called forgery and often results in unpleasant repercussion. Fortunately, there is another kind of art replication that is more amiable. It is said that imitation is the highest form of flattery. Therefore, art students begin to develop their own talent and style by copying the masters. This could be seen as a counterpart to scientific replication, and art and science are still on par.
But I think the last criteria to be considered will part the waters between science and art, and that is purpose. The purpose of science is clear and undisputed: science attempts to disprove an hypothesis. The statistical outcome of the scientist’s inquiry is measured in probability of chance. A scientist will create a hypothetical situation and then set about to prove that the hypothesis is false. If the statistical measurement of the experiment’s results show a 0.05 or less probability that the results occurred due to chance, the hypothesis is considered to be true, despite all the efforts by the experimenter to prove otherwise. (I know, it’s a convoluted approach to finding truth, but there you have it.)
Whatever theories are put forth about the purpose of art, I do not think any of them come close to the purpose of science. I agree that there are “artistic” aspects to the elements of science, but I do not think that makes science an art. In fact, it may be just the opposite.
I recently added a quote to my blog page by the poet, Piet Hein: “There is one art, no more no less, to do all things with artlessness.” I think Hein meant to approach all things as a child would, guileless, as if you were doing it for the first time. So my questions is: How can “artlessness” be a valuable trait for either scientist or artist?
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