Leonardo
Artists against War and Fascism: Papers of the First American Artists' Congress (1930) byMatthew Baigell; Julia WilliamsReview by: Frances PohlLeonardo, Vol. 21, No. 1 (1988), pp. 98-100Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1578434 .
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works by artists who do indeed have an understanding of some branch of
learning apart from their own creative field and who use this learning first to understand and then to explicate for others the theoretical basis of their art. Not that the latter need be any less
portentous than the former-especially when they are based on an evolutionary perspective which parades the history of art in review and, by placing the author in the final chapter, suggests (tacitly) that he is indeed at the current leading edge of the world's stylistic development. (F.E. Smith once remarked that Winston Churchill was writing his autobiography disguised as a history of the Universe!)
Karl Gerstner's The Forms of Colour is in the latter category though it must be said straight away that the book is
engagingly modest in tone and discusses an area of learning that will be of great interest to many readers of Leonardo. His
subject is "the interaction of visual elements", in particular the elements which go to make up abstract art of the Constructivist variety. Writing firmly in the Pythagorean tradition expressed in Plato's "Timaeus", Gerstner is concerned with the innumerable patterns in nature which are assimilated to the patterns of
geometry. In his case, the patterns of geometry include not only the geometry of physical space but also the geometry of colour space-that is to say, 'harmonic'
relationships between colours manifested in their positions in some abstract three- dimensional description or 'space'. In- deed it is precisely the connection between these two sets of relationships in works of art that provides Gerstner with the material for his own polychrome relief sculpture.
Given the author's starting point, it is not surprising that, along with a good deal of interesting factual material on
pattern-making (which connects up a
perceptive account of some of the great Islamic decorations at the Alhambra in
Spain with some fascinating byways in recent studies of graph theory and topology), the book also addresses the time-honoured concern for the ultimate hidden geometrical substrate, the har- monices mundi. Much of this tradition is German and the familiar names of Kepler, Goethe and Runge are somewhat surprisingly joined by Wilhelm Ostwald, winner of the Nobel prize for chemistry and, later, originator of one of the most
works by artists who do indeed have an understanding of some branch of
learning apart from their own creative field and who use this learning first to understand and then to explicate for others the theoretical basis of their art. Not that the latter need be any less
portentous than the former-especially when they are based on an evolutionary perspective which parades the history of art in review and, by placing the author in the final chapter, suggests (tacitly) that he is indeed at the current leading edge of the world's stylistic development. (F.E. Smith once remarked that Winston Churchill was writing his autobiography disguised as a history of the Universe!)
Karl Gerstner's The Forms of Colour is in the latter category though it must be said straight away that the book is
engagingly modest in tone and discusses an area of learning that will be of great interest to many readers of Leonardo. His
subject is "the interaction of visual elements", in particular the elements which go to make up abstract art of the Constructivist variety. Writing firmly in the Pythagorean tradition expressed in Plato's "Timaeus", Gerstner is concerned with the innumerable patterns in nature which are assimilated to the patterns of
geometry. In his case, the patterns of geometry include not only the geometry of physical space but also the geometry of colour space-that is to say, 'harmonic'
relationships between colours manifested in their positions in some abstract three- dimensional description or 'space'. In- deed it is precisely the connection between these two sets of relationships in works of art that provides Gerstner with the material for his own polychrome relief sculpture.
Given the author's starting point, it is not surprising that, along with a good deal of interesting factual material on
pattern-making (which connects up a
perceptive account of some of the great Islamic decorations at the Alhambra in
Spain with some fascinating byways in recent studies of graph theory and topology), the book also addresses the time-honoured concern for the ultimate hidden geometrical substrate, the har- monices mundi. Much of this tradition is German and the familiar names of Kepler, Goethe and Runge are somewhat surprisingly joined by Wilhelm Ostwald, winner of the Nobel prize for chemistry and, later, originator of one of the most widely used colour systems, in which simple symmetries and complementarities can be picked out as generators of harmonious colour combinations.
Ostwald was, it turns out, interested in extending his systematisation of colour
widely used colour systems, in which simple symmetries and complementarities can be picked out as generators of harmonious colour combinations.
Ostwald was, it turns out, interested in extending his systematisation of colour
into geometry generally, and Gerstner uses Ostwald's now-forgotten investiga- tions into networks as generators of patterns as the pivotal point of the book, linking the great tradition of pattern- making with some twentieth-century formal preoccupations, notably in the work of the Swiss artist Hans Hinterreiter.
However it is Wassily Kandinsky who provides Gerstner's own inspiration. In particular Gerstner is interested in Kandinsky's ideas on the relationship between primary colours and simple geometric forms. Kandinsky's notion that there is a 'natural' relationship between yellow and the triangle, red and the square, and blue and the circle-the classic example of Platonistic speculation in this field-causes Gerstner some problems since it leaves out green. Moreover, it is untidy in the way it relates a series of discontinuous geometric forms to the continuum of the spectrum of visible light with which it is supposed to have some important connection. Gerstner's solution to this analogical puzzle is to introduce a further series of forms-the octagon and two pointed and one rounded star-shapes-which form a more felicitous sequential counterpart for the six dominant hues in the colour circle. On the basis of this proposition and its extension into computer-generated hybrids he has developed the series of works in coloured relief which are the real subject of the book.
These are lavishly illustrated and will raise a question in the minds of readers who may find the text obscure and irrelevant and the assumptions arbitrary and capricious: Does it matter what is the theoretical basis if the works themselves are beautiful?-which they are. Gerstner attempts to answer this question by a further chunk of theory, again of a familiar Platonistic variety. Geometry is
important not just because it is the basis of form but because it is the ground of all beauty, of which the archetype is music. This is the original Pythagorean con- flation of discoveries about relationships in primary geometric forms (right-angled triangles and the like) with unrelated discoveries about the lengths of string in tuned musical instruments such as the lyre. Colour is brought into this conversation through the ideas of Newton, who explained his discoveries of pure colours in the spectrum in terms of the seven notes of the musical octave,
into geometry generally, and Gerstner uses Ostwald's now-forgotten investiga- tions into networks as generators of patterns as the pivotal point of the book, linking the great tradition of pattern- making with some twentieth-century formal preoccupations, notably in the work of the Swiss artist Hans Hinterreiter.
However it is Wassily Kandinsky who provides Gerstner's own inspiration. In particular Gerstner is interested in Kandinsky's ideas on the relationship between primary colours and simple geometric forms. Kandinsky's notion that there is a 'natural' relationship between yellow and the triangle, red and the square, and blue and the circle-the classic example of Platonistic speculation in this field-causes Gerstner some problems since it leaves out green. Moreover, it is untidy in the way it relates a series of discontinuous geometric forms to the continuum of the spectrum of visible light with which it is supposed to have some important connection. Gerstner's solution to this analogical puzzle is to introduce a further series of forms-the octagon and two pointed and one rounded star-shapes-which form a more felicitous sequential counterpart for the six dominant hues in the colour circle. On the basis of this proposition and its extension into computer-generated hybrids he has developed the series of works in coloured relief which are the real subject of the book.
These are lavishly illustrated and will raise a question in the minds of readers who may find the text obscure and irrelevant and the assumptions arbitrary and capricious: Does it matter what is the theoretical basis if the works themselves are beautiful?-which they are. Gerstner attempts to answer this question by a further chunk of theory, again of a familiar Platonistic variety. Geometry is
important not just because it is the basis of form but because it is the ground of all beauty, of which the archetype is music. This is the original Pythagorean con- flation of discoveries about relationships in primary geometric forms (right-angled triangles and the like) with unrelated discoveries about the lengths of string in tuned musical instruments such as the lyre. Colour is brought into this conversation through the ideas of Newton, who explained his discoveries of pure colours in the spectrum in terms of the seven notes of the musical octave, since he too was inclined to believe in the music of the spheres. The final step is to bring in a list of emotional states which are supposedly related in some iso- morphic way to both colour and form. Gerstner's last chapter is headed
since he too was inclined to believe in the music of the spheres. The final step is to bring in a list of emotional states which are supposedly related in some iso- morphic way to both colour and form. Gerstner's last chapter is headed
"Correspondences", an allusion to Baudelaire's famous sonnet in which all sensations and emotions are related to the hidden geometric architecture of the universe.
It would take another book to demolish Gerstner's theoretical position and replace it with one that would please scientifically minded readers more, but what would be the point? To attempt to extricate some undoubtedly fascinating geometric discoveries from the meta- physical speculation in which they are buried would lead merely to yet another book on mathematical theory.
To set the explanatory framework for the undisputed (if often overstated) "Correspondences" between different sensory modes and between the senses and the intellectual apprehension of reality, not in an invisible geometry of the world, but in the possibilities of synaesthetic metaphor immanent in structural similarities in the architecture of different species of mental software, would merely bring the theoretical model
up to date. Either way the works themselves would still stand. It is doubtful though whether another, more
truly scientific book would provide the same inspiration for artists as the time- honoured tradition within which Gerstner works. For that is its real
justification-not as truth but as inspira- tion. The Forms of Colour is a worthy addition to the confessional genre and intellectual purists should treat it as such. Few scientists would be capable of
producing anything like such an extended
background to their own work and it would therefore be a pity if its circulation were confined to artists. It is impeccably produced (though alas without an index) by MIT Press.
ARTISTS AGAINST WAR AND FASCISM-PAPERS OF THE FIRST AMERICAN ARTISTS' CONGRESS (1930) Matthew Baigell and Julia Williams, eds. Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick, NJ, U.S.A., 1985. 300 pp., illus. Trade, $23.00.
Reviewed by Frances Pohl, Art History Department, Pomona College, 333 College Way, Claremont, CA 91711, U.S.A.
"Correspondences", an allusion to Baudelaire's famous sonnet in which all sensations and emotions are related to the hidden geometric architecture of the universe.
It would take another book to demolish Gerstner's theoretical position and replace it with one that would please scientifically minded readers more, but what would be the point? To attempt to extricate some undoubtedly fascinating geometric discoveries from the meta- physical speculation in which they are buried would lead merely to yet another book on mathematical theory.
To set the explanatory framework for the undisputed (if often overstated) "Correspondences" between different sensory modes and between the senses and the intellectual apprehension of reality, not in an invisible geometry of the world, but in the possibilities of synaesthetic metaphor immanent in structural similarities in the architecture of different species of mental software, would merely bring the theoretical model
up to date. Either way the works themselves would still stand. It is doubtful though whether another, more
truly scientific book would provide the same inspiration for artists as the time- honoured tradition within which Gerstner works. For that is its real
justification-not as truth but as inspira- tion. The Forms of Colour is a worthy addition to the confessional genre and intellectual purists should treat it as such. Few scientists would be capable of
producing anything like such an extended
background to their own work and it would therefore be a pity if its circulation were confined to artists. It is impeccably produced (though alas without an index) by MIT Press.
ARTISTS AGAINST WAR AND FASCISM-PAPERS OF THE FIRST AMERICAN ARTISTS' CONGRESS (1930) Matthew Baigell and Julia Williams, eds. Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick, NJ, U.S.A., 1985. 300 pp., illus. Trade, $23.00.
Reviewed by Frances Pohl, Art History Department, Pomona College, 333 College Way, Claremont, CA 91711, U.S.A.
The 1930s have been the focus of considerable scholarly attention over the past half-century. Despite this fact, there are still large gaps in our knowledge of this very complex and crisis-ridden
The 1930s have been the focus of considerable scholarly attention over the past half-century. Despite this fact, there are still large gaps in our knowledge of this very complex and crisis-ridden
Current Literature Current Literature 98 98
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decade. Artists Against War and Fascism, edited and with an introduction by Matthew Baigell and Julia Williams, helps fill one of these gaps. In 1935, in
response to the serious economic crisis and the spread of fascism, the American Artists' Congress was formed. The papers presented at the first meeting of the
Congress in February of 1936 in the Town Hall of New York City were
subsequently gathered together and
published in an edition of 3,000. While these papers have been constantly referred to over the years, few complete copies still exist, and no reprints were ever issued. Baigell and Williams, both art historians, have performed a considerable service to the art historical community, therefore, in overseeing the re-publication of these documents.
Artists Against War and Fascism contains an introductory essay, the
papers of the first meeting of the
Congress, a selection of black and white illustrations of the work of various
Congress members, a list of Congress exhibitions (with the texts of seven of the
catalogues) and short biographies of the
speakers at the first meeting. Together these documents allow an evaluation of the ideals, if not the accomplishments, of the organization.
As Baigell and Williams point out, the
language of the Congress was often the
language of the Soviet Union and the Communist Party of America (CPUSA). While, according to the authors, it is difficult to determine the exact extent of CPUSA influence in the organization, what is certain is that the Congress was founded in direct response to Stalin's 1935 Popular Front initiative. Worried about the growing military buildup under Hitler in Germany, Stalin abandoned his
anti-capitalist rhetoric and called upon all Western democracies to band together to resist fascism.
Such conciliatory overtures on the part of the Soviet Union necessitated certain
changes in the programs of cultural
organizations founded by the CPUSA. The John Reed Clubs, set up in the late twenties and early thirties, were dis- banded because their militant call for a
proletarian art and working class revolution could not be assimilated into the new Popular Front strategy, a
strategy embodied in the slogan "Communism is Twentieth-Century Americanism". CPUSA members were now directed to take a lower profile in organizations and to work in concert with other left-of-center political groups. They were a significant presence, therefore, in the founding meetings of the American Artists' Congress.
The Congress lasted from 1935 to 1942. At its peak in 1939 it boasted a membership of approximately 900 artists. It sponsored exhibitions and symposia in support of Republican Spain and other countries struggling against fascism and lobbied for artists' political and economic rights. While its political interests were well-defined, it was relatively silent on the type of art it felt would most effectively serve the anti-fascist cause. Professional artists of all styles and media were welcomed into the group and aesthetic differences were downplayed in the interests of political solidarity. At the first Congress meeting art-making itself was not discussed to any great extent. The criticisms that were voiced were directed at Italian and German artists who worked in concert with Hitler and Mussolini rather than at such politically and stylistically conservative American artists as Thomas Hart Benton or Norman Rockwell.
While reading through the Congress papers one gains a sense of the urgency and the idealism that permeated the 1936 meeting. Lewis Mumford's impassioned plea for artists to use their talents to stop the spread of fascism resonates with an awareness of the very real and imminent danger of world military conflict. Dictators fear artists, claimed Mumford, because they fear free criticism. Artists must exercise their free will, therefore, in order to "upset the whole Fascist program" (p. 64).
In another impassioned speech, Stuart Davis warned against domestic fascism. He called upon artists to open their eyes to the suppression that existed within the U.S., a suppression "shrewdly screened with such slogans as 'Back to the Constitution' and 'Save America for Democracy', and hypocritical appeals to Americanism and love of country" (p. 68). Rockwell Kent, in a particularly eloquent presentation, argued that Americans should "seek justification for war only after [they] shall have established here in America such a paradise for all as may truly deserve the shedding of blood for the preservation of its integrity" (p. 74).
Joe Jones listed some of the censorship that had already taken place in the U.S. art world in the first half of the 1930s, including the destruction of Diego Rivera's Rockefeller Center mural in New York City and the rejection of the murals designed by Ben Shahn and Lou Block for the Riker's Island Penitentiary in New York City. "The most openly Fascist act, however," stated Jones, "took place in Los Angeles, where Police Captain Hynes and his notorious Red Squad broke into a
John Reed Club exhibition, smashing sculpture and portable murals. To show their feelings they put bullet holes through the heads of Negroes portrayed in the murals, but spared two figures, a Ku Klux Klan member and a judge" (p. 76).
Mumford, Davis, Kent and Jones, spoke, along with a number of others, at the public session of the Congress meeting. There were four closed sessions as well, held in the New School for Social Research, which included discussions of topics such as nationalism, art audiences, government sponsorship of the arts, union organizing and the experiences of artists in Mexico. The best-known and most-quoted essay from these closed sessions is Meyer Schapiro's "The Social Bases of Art". Unfortunately, not all who have used Schapiro's essay have ac- knowledged its position within the Congress meeting. Many have focused on his examination of the social necessity of modern art, seeing in it a key for their own art historical investigations of the socially organized relationships that have constrained practitioners of such an art.
Useful as this reading of Schapiro has
proven to be for the study of art history, it has not allowed for a full recognition of the political call to action that his words contained. He criticized artists and writers who found the apparent anarchy and individualism of modern culture
"historically progressive". Such a con-
ception was "restricted to small groups who are able to achieve such freedom
only because of the oppression and
misery of the masses" (p. 112). According to Schapiro, modern art in 1936
cannot really be called free, because it is so exclusive and private; there are too many things we value that it cannot embrace or even confront. An in- dividual art in a society where human beings do not feel themselves to be most individual when they are inert, dream- ing, passive, tormented or uncontrolled, would be very different from modern art. And in a society where all men can be free individuals, individuality must lose its exclusiveness and its ruthless and perverse character (p. 113).
With the help of the Baigell/Williams text we are able to locate Schapiro's essay within the context of the 1936 meeting and to appreciate more fully the
significance of his words. It is tempting to point to Schapiro's
statements, and those of many of the other Congress speakers, as possible rallying cries for artists today or, at the very least, to see the efforts of the American Artists' Congress as proof of the longevity of political engagement
Current Literature 99
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among artists in this country. Indeed, Baigell and Williams comment that the Congress papers "are an important document in the political history of American art to which additional chapters have been added in the 1970s and 1980s concerning feminism, street art, racism, and criticism of United States policies concerning nuclear weapons and third-world countries" (p. xii).
At least one contemporary art critic, however, has questioned the importance of these papers and the historical events they record. Hilton Kramer, in an essay for the New York Times Book Review, dismisses the Congress as a mere puppet organization of Moscow and the CPUSA, one that failed, even in its limited endeavours, to produce anything aesthe- tically or politically worthwhile. Ulti- mately it dissolved "in dishonor and disarray" in 1942. "It is an odd sort of mentality," he states, "that, from the comfortable purlieus of academic life, beckons us now to admire this sorry chapter in American cultural history- and, indeed, to echo its spirit of 'activism' in 1986" [1].
There are, admittedly, certain problems with espousing the American Artists' Congress as an organizational prototype for contemporary artists interested in political activism. Baigell and Williams, themselves, point out that "the congress, in the cause of unity against fascism, contributed to the eclipse of Social Realism in painting in the late 1930s, making radical political art a victim of a left-wing artists' group". They also point out that, "ironically, for an artists' congress, its words, not its images, are of interest today" (p. 39). The words are important, however, for they reveal the efforts of a group of artists both to comprehend and to redefine their position in society through an under- standing of the economic basis and political implications of art making. It is this method of investigation, the kinds of questions asked, that is of such significance for artists today.
That the Congress failed to weather the political storms of the late thirties and early forties or to solve the financial problems of American artists does not render the words or actions of its members historically or politically irrele- vant. It would be a sad day, indeed, for American history and art history if, as Kramer seems to desire, only 'happy'
among artists in this country. Indeed, Baigell and Williams comment that the Congress papers "are an important document in the political history of American art to which additional chapters have been added in the 1970s and 1980s concerning feminism, street art, racism, and criticism of United States policies concerning nuclear weapons and third-world countries" (p. xii).
At least one contemporary art critic, however, has questioned the importance of these papers and the historical events they record. Hilton Kramer, in an essay for the New York Times Book Review, dismisses the Congress as a mere puppet organization of Moscow and the CPUSA, one that failed, even in its limited endeavours, to produce anything aesthe- tically or politically worthwhile. Ulti- mately it dissolved "in dishonor and disarray" in 1942. "It is an odd sort of mentality," he states, "that, from the comfortable purlieus of academic life, beckons us now to admire this sorry chapter in American cultural history- and, indeed, to echo its spirit of 'activism' in 1986" [1].
There are, admittedly, certain problems with espousing the American Artists' Congress as an organizational prototype for contemporary artists interested in political activism. Baigell and Williams, themselves, point out that "the congress, in the cause of unity against fascism, contributed to the eclipse of Social Realism in painting in the late 1930s, making radical political art a victim of a left-wing artists' group". They also point out that, "ironically, for an artists' congress, its words, not its images, are of interest today" (p. 39). The words are important, however, for they reveal the efforts of a group of artists both to comprehend and to redefine their position in society through an under- standing of the economic basis and political implications of art making. It is this method of investigation, the kinds of questions asked, that is of such significance for artists today.
That the Congress failed to weather the political storms of the late thirties and early forties or to solve the financial problems of American artists does not render the words or actions of its members historically or politically irrele- vant. It would be a sad day, indeed, for American history and art history if, as Kramer seems to desire, only 'happy' chapters in American cultural history received our scholarly attention.
REFERENCE
1. Hilton Kramer, "The Big Red Paintpot",
chapters in American cultural history received our scholarly attention.
REFERENCE
1. Hilton Kramer, "The Big Red Paintpot",
New York Times Book Review, 27 April 1986, p. 19.
MEDIEVAL RELIGION AND TECH- NOLOGY by Lynn White, Jr. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 1986. 360 pp., illus. Paperback. ISBN: 0-520- 05896-8.
Reviewed by Vladimir Tamari, 4-2-8-C26 Komazawa, Setagaya-ku, Tokyo, Japan 154.
A thousand years of the 'dark ages' in Europe is a long time, and we should be grateful for the light this book sheds on various aspects of life in that period between the fall of the Roman Empire and the first stirrings of the Renaissance. Armed with impeccable scholarship and with an inventive and witty approach, the author of these 19 essays illuminates chosen topics ranging from the invention of the parachute and the pointed arch to the relationship between culture and technology.
The effect of technology on methods of warfare can be seen in the momentous effects that the introduction of the stirrup had on Medieval history. This very simple device hung from the saddle allowed the rider to support himself on the horse with both knees, freeing the arms to hold the lance firmly. This made possible the effective use of the cavalry charge, with devastating effect during the Crusades. Similarly the invention of the cannon made the ancient methods of fortification useless and led to the invention of the bastion. The sense of panic among the leaders of those days is made almost palpable: the English feared a French invasion by way of Scotland, and the town of Berwick had to be fortified. Queen Elizabeth appointed an Anglo- Italian commission to draw up the plans for the expensive new defences. White wryly comments that "it is doubtful whether the 'Cartesian' mentality, which assumed that mathematics is the key to reality, would have become dominant if
Europe had not been assiduously bankrupting itself by building new military defenses in which assurance of safety was achieved less by tangible masses of masonry than by abstract geometrical patterns of lines of fire".
New York Times Book Review, 27 April 1986, p. 19.
MEDIEVAL RELIGION AND TECH- NOLOGY by Lynn White, Jr. University of California Press, Berkeley, CA, 1986. 360 pp., illus. Paperback. ISBN: 0-520- 05896-8.
Reviewed by Vladimir Tamari, 4-2-8-C26 Komazawa, Setagaya-ku, Tokyo, Japan 154.
A thousand years of the 'dark ages' in Europe is a long time, and we should be grateful for the light this book sheds on various aspects of life in that period between the fall of the Roman Empire and the first stirrings of the Renaissance. Armed with impeccable scholarship and with an inventive and witty approach, the author of these 19 essays illuminates chosen topics ranging from the invention of the parachute and the pointed arch to the relationship between culture and technology.
The effect of technology on methods of warfare can be seen in the momentous effects that the introduction of the stirrup had on Medieval history. This very simple device hung from the saddle allowed the rider to support himself on the horse with both knees, freeing the arms to hold the lance firmly. This made possible the effective use of the cavalry charge, with devastating effect during the Crusades. Similarly the invention of the cannon made the ancient methods of fortification useless and led to the invention of the bastion. The sense of panic among the leaders of those days is made almost palpable: the English feared a French invasion by way of Scotland, and the town of Berwick had to be fortified. Queen Elizabeth appointed an Anglo- Italian commission to draw up the plans for the expensive new defences. White wryly comments that "it is doubtful whether the 'Cartesian' mentality, which assumed that mathematics is the key to reality, would have become dominant if
Europe had not been assiduously bankrupting itself by building new military defenses in which assurance of safety was achieved less by tangible masses of masonry than by abstract geometrical patterns of lines of fire". Precursors of electron beams and the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI)?
The economy and political life of Europe was in shambles during much of this period, and the life of prayer and the search for salvation took up much of
Precursors of electron beams and the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI)?
The economy and political life of Europe was in shambles during much of this period, and the life of prayer and the search for salvation took up much of
people's energies and imagination. But far from being an obstacle to the progress of science, religion often proved to be a catalyst. The intricate organs that filled the glorious cathedrals with music depended on such mechanisms as the crank, a pivotal innovation (excuse the pun) in machine design. The very first appearance of the crank outside of China was in an illumination for Psalm 64 about "evildoers who whet their tongues like swords". In the illustration the wicked are shown using the old method of drawing the sword over a whetstone, while the righteous sharpen theirs on a circular stone turned by the crank. An early example of the human trend to equate technical progress with moral superiority.
Developments that might take months in our modern time-scale of fevered technological development were drawn out over centuries in those earlier times. Some 300 years elapsed between the grinding of lenses for the monk Roger Bacon and the invention of the telescope by a contemporary of Galileo and the subsequent scientific revolution that led to. The church clock necessary for the orderly performance of the daily cycle of prayers led to the development of ingenious and intricate mechanisms, which still appear in our modern contraptions.
To be sure, many of these develop- ments came to Europe by way of trade with China or India, or through contacts with the Arab civilization then flourishing in Spain or the Eastern Mediterranean. But the Europeans seem to have adopted these gadgets and ideas with a zest all of their own. Leafing through these essays one is made to feel the birth pangs of that peculiarly modern sin of 'technolust'. This term appeared recently in an article about computer buffs eager to acquire all the latest programs or hardware, but it aptly describes our modern mad rush to equate technology with happiness or security. One can trace this tendency back to the age of colonialism and the industrial revolution, through the note- books of Leonardo da Vinci, and to unknown individuals like the German who built the water-powered mill used to manufacture wire, which appears in a sketch by Diirer. In the essay entitled "Medieval Legacy in the Wild West" we learn that the Americans added a new twist to wiremaking by using barbs.
people's energies and imagination. But far from being an obstacle to the progress of science, religion often proved to be a catalyst. The intricate organs that filled the glorious cathedrals with music depended on such mechanisms as the crank, a pivotal innovation (excuse the pun) in machine design. The very first appearance of the crank outside of China was in an illumination for Psalm 64 about "evildoers who whet their tongues like swords". In the illustration the wicked are shown using the old method of drawing the sword over a whetstone, while the righteous sharpen theirs on a circular stone turned by the crank. An early example of the human trend to equate technical progress with moral superiority.
Developments that might take months in our modern time-scale of fevered technological development were drawn out over centuries in those earlier times. Some 300 years elapsed between the grinding of lenses for the monk Roger Bacon and the invention of the telescope by a contemporary of Galileo and the subsequent scientific revolution that led to. The church clock necessary for the orderly performance of the daily cycle of prayers led to the development of ingenious and intricate mechanisms, which still appear in our modern contraptions.
To be sure, many of these develop- ments came to Europe by way of trade with China or India, or through contacts with the Arab civilization then flourishing in Spain or the Eastern Mediterranean. But the Europeans seem to have adopted these gadgets and ideas with a zest all of their own. Leafing through these essays one is made to feel the birth pangs of that peculiarly modern sin of 'technolust'. This term appeared recently in an article about computer buffs eager to acquire all the latest programs or hardware, but it aptly describes our modern mad rush to equate technology with happiness or security. One can trace this tendency back to the age of colonialism and the industrial revolution, through the note- books of Leonardo da Vinci, and to unknown individuals like the German who built the water-powered mill used to manufacture wire, which appears in a sketch by Diirer. In the essay entitled "Medieval Legacy in the Wild West" we learn that the Americans added a new twist to wiremaking by using barbs. Much of modern electrical technology and communication as well as some types of military defences depend on such wires, and it is instructive to see how the physical, social and even theological needs of people of the distant past led to
Much of modern electrical technology and communication as well as some types of military defences depend on such wires, and it is instructive to see how the physical, social and even theological needs of people of the distant past led to
Current Literature Current Literature 100 100
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