Sunday, December 8, 2019

A North American Raga




A strange and beautiful piece of American folk. Robbie Basho's music is virtuous and eclectic, with influences ranging from country music to Indian raga.

Basho's (and John Fahey's) music has the same hypnotic quality that I find in listening to Bach's fugues: from a simple theme you are carried down a relentless stream of dense, interweaving lines that work together to create a harmonious unity. Heavily layered music like this has tremendous re-play quality because all of the parts simply cannot be taken in all at once, for they reveal themselves gradually with every listen.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

A Prairie Poem


A sky that unfurls past the horizon,
As a waving flag in the light of sun.
A canvas without any border
And curls forever into the distance.

A land with a single dimension:
Which no eye can encompass,
Whose immensity devours,
And whose language is sublime.

And the Rockies stand in silence watching
The vain pursuits of mortal men.
The Guardians of the West, and dawn of my dreams,
Soon I’ll know where these distant roads lead.

Monday, December 2, 2019

Symbols as Mediators


This post will probably be the first of many on this topic, and best serves as an introduction to my thought on the topic. Much of my thinking on symbols is derived from the writings of Plato, Plotinus, Augustine and Rene Guenon.

A fascination of mine has always been with the symbols that civilizations have long held in veneration. A Christian knows that the cross is not only a reminder the death of Christ, but its shape has an inherent power both over the spiritual and material realms. I would go as far as to say that the power of traditional symbols are not due to our view of them, but that it is inherent, and has its origin in the divine realm, or mind of God, which this world is an imitation of.

An early example of this is found in the book of Numbers in the episode in which the brazen serpent set up by Moses heals all who were bitten by the fiery serpents. Words too have been used as symbols, take for example the power believed to be inherent in the names of the gods in Hinduism, or the great fear and reverence the Jews of the Old Testament treated the name of God.

When viewed in a purely material context, the role of the symbol becomes inverted. If a picture of trees only represents the physical trees outside, then the symbol will only be less of a reality compared to what it symbolises. If this is the case, then the dismissive remark “it’s just a symbol” would be perfectly valid.

But when a symbol is viewed from more of a Platonic angle it becomes a manifestation of higher reality, namely of the ideal forms. In this view, the symbol is not only a lower representation of what it signifies, but itself is a higher reality when compared to the material world. What is communicated through symbols is also made present in a very real way, this is because, as a language, symbolism transcends discursive reasoning, and it makes itself known intuitively in a way that resembles the operation of purely intellectual creatures. A symbol is best understood as a mediator between the world of sense and the realm of ideas. This is why the symbols of antiquity often seem strange and abstract to us: their aim is higher than most can gaze. The inability of modern men to process and understand symbolism is only a symptom of the general modern worldview, which is severely limiting in its scope.

Interestingly, to a thinker like Plotinus, the material world itself can be viewed as a symbol: all things being a reflection of the ideal forms. In fact, one of the main goals of practicing Platonic philosophy is to train the eye to see in the changing material world the forms that give them actuality. While matter has the lowest place in the chain of being, it still is the result of the outpouring that has its origin in the unspeakable One.

However, the idea of the material world as one big symbol of its divine origin (whether the Holy Trinity, or the One) is not altogether simple. Certainly then there needs to be a hierarchy of symbols, and there are some things in this world which are probably not worthy of being contemplated as symbols of the divine (even if they really are in a distant way). But then again, even some of the more mundane things are actually very powerful symbols, think of the cosmic egg, the wheel of samsara, or bodily organs like the heart.

It is my opinion that a material symbol portrayed through art has more power to communicate divine realties than does the thing simply existing in the world. The veil of matter is not to be underestimated, and I think that representation through art, even though it uses matter, somehow breaks through this veil. And it is these symbols, which paradoxically seem the most “manufactured,” which best represent the immaterial. Perhaps this is because they are the most linked to man, who is himself a kind of mediator between the material and divine.