Derain's London: philosophy's true colors
There are limits to human understanding -- limits to pure reason.
This was the philosophic message of the earlier essay on Magritte's La
condition humaine. Inspired by Magritte's arresting image and
considering some aspects of quantum theory and differential equations I
argued that the mutual interaction of objects leads microscopically to
quantum indeterminancy and macroscopically to an inexorable
contingency. Hence, pure absolute determinism is not only boring, it is
wrong.
But the question remains: how is human understanding possible at
all? The question is deep and perennial but I'll venture a modest
suggestion through a link between the theory of relativity and Andre
Derain's Charing Cross Bridge. As is well known, one of the most
striking conclusions of special relativity is that the simultaneity of
events is limited to a local spatial domain. There is thus no universal
and absolute idea of time: what is simultaneous to me is not necessarily
simultaneous to you. Moreover, Einstein's theory of general relativity
tells us that space-time structure is not absolute; the shape of space-time
may vary from location to location. In other words, the curvature of my
space is not necessarily the same as yours. With relativity, however,
not everything is so relative. The essential aspect of relativity is not
actually its conception of space and time but rather that it holds as
invariant certain laws of physics. Under relativity, it is the laws of
physics that are invariant -- from this space and time become relative.
So what are the relevance of these ideas to Derain? Regarding the
Fauves in general -- Matisse, Derain, Braque, Vlaminick and others,
one notable characteristic is their innovative and liberal use of color.
The rich, vibrant colors of their paintings -- sometimes with no obvious
material connection to the original subject -- quickly inspired the art
critic Louis Vauxcelles to name them "les fauves" (the wild beasts).
Derain's Charing Bridge is a masterly representation of the Fauvist
ideal as the colors seem to take on a life of their own. Have you ever
seen the Thames (or any river for that matter) reflect in colors of red,
green, yellow, and blue. The buildings of Parliament have become
bright green while the rest of Whitehall street blue. Is this what London
looks like? Is this reality?
Derain's two month stay in London may have come at a particularly
crucial moment as he sought a change of scene and the tranquillity by
which he could further advance his art. In London Derain was initially
disappointed as he wrote: "...everything is dead here. In a restaurant
full of people, one cannot hear anything. I have seen a port with boats
that arrived, a group of workers that finished their work, and I thought I
was dreaming -- in all this, not a sound"; incredulouis to the "reality" he
thought he was dreaming. For the Frenchman Derain, unaccustomed to
British reserve, it was only natural to impute his own sense of reality --
Figure 1 Charing Cross Bridge, London, 1906 National Gallery of Art
a sense of joie de vivre -- onto calm and drab London. Thus, being true
to his art, he chose instead to depict reality, his reality, by daring and
vibrant colors that hint at a vitality beneath the London fog. In this
masterpiece Derain tried to capture two seeming polar images: human
society in the backdrop of a dreary London. Consonant with these
challenging artistic aims, it is no wonder that Matisse wrote
"L'exactitude n'est pas la verite."
Derain's Charing Cross Bridge is clearly an individual, rather
personal vision of London; it is a form of local understanding
conceptually similar to the ideas of relativity. Indeed, there is no
absolute standard which tells us the color of the Thames; even a banal
attribution of visible wavelength is insufficient as these would change
from sunrise to sunset. The colors, therefore are truly relative. On the
other hand, what Derain aimed to understand for himself and to convey
to others were the "invariants" of reality. One of these might be the the
vital liveliness of human society--what for Derain would be considered
a "law of human nature." The analogy to relativity is clear: while space
and time are relative to the observer, the laws of physics, nevertheless,
remain invariant.
Thus, we see possibilities for human understanding that while
relative also enables the potential for apprehending invariants. It is in
this spirit of searching for invariants that Socrates asks "what is virtue."
The contrary is also holds for all of us brought up with "Sesame Street":
"which one of these is not like the others?" From Derain's Charing
Bridge as well as the other Fauve works we learn that our perspective is
shaped individually and locally: life would seem to be a perpetual
Rorschach test. At the same time, however, artists and scientists -- and
indeed as all of us -- search for those evanescent invariants from which
true meaning yields.
A highly relative epistemology does not speak well, however, for
moral reasoning. The name of the "Fauves" as "wild beasts" is
significant in this regard as the critics realized that in this "wild,
unrestrained color" lay the seeds for artistic, if not, moral degradation.
The "Fauves" knew better because when they ask (as Matisse did)
"what do I want" the true artist aims in actuality for these invariants --
the poet's universal truth. And perhaps in the seed of these invariants
lies the road to progress. The question now: what are the invariants of
human nature?
Ogan Gurel