"Temple" by KVANT-1

Design and illustration studio KVANT-1 (the Norwegian trio of Vegard Aarseth, Nicholas O’Leary, and Jan-Erik Sletten) created a fantastical photographic journey they call "Temple" in which a trio of mystics approach and enter a magical temple made from minerals (the entrance features enormous rounds of rose selenite) and crystals.

The team describes the visuals: "The scene is set in a land foreign to all where the definition is deliberately undefined. Built upon a disintegration of absolutes, the Temple is an interplay of seeming contradictions. Dark becomes light, stone becomes flesh, barrenness becomes life, grounded becomes weightless, solid becomes fluid. The unknown is one of the most potent fuels for imagination. And in the midst of the pandemic, partly as a form of escapism due to the restrictions, we set about exploring more of the unknown."

https://kvant1.no/

Santcum by Levi van Veluw

Late last summer 2019, artist Levi van Veluw created an incredible installation, Sanctum, shown at Tenuta Dello Scompiglio, an Agricola and art/cultural showcase outside of Lucca, Italy.

This intense, transcendent space resonates with me deeply for many reasons and on many levels. I will let the artist explain:

"The installation Sanctum, developed especially for Tenuta Dello Scompiglio, testifying of a fictitious religious conviction, engages all the senses of the visitor. The last room where visitors ended their journey in Kerguénnec, nell'installazione 'The relativity of the matter', becomes the starting point for a more elaborate proposition in the expositive space of Dello Scompiglio. Levi van Veluw based Sanctum on of the first religious buildings, the Tabernacle, also called the tent of meeting. This tent served as a place of worship and symbolized God’s presence amidst those who had gathered.

The interior of the Tabernacle consisted of 3 spaces: the Forecourt, the Holy Place and the Holy of Holies, sacred in ascending gradation. Like the Tabernacle, Levi van Veluw’s work features symmetry and harmony, to express the strive for divine perfection and reflect the divine holiness through the careful gradations of the three phases. As such, he plays with the age-old composition of the religious structure and thereby lures the spectator deeper and deeper into the Sanctuary.

After a long descent, a mysterious dark blue glow shines through a narrow crack in the wall. The visitor enters through this opening into a high-ceilinged, underground space, the forecourt. Massive columns emerge on both sides and mountains of coal lie scattered across the floor, while the path in the centre is kept open. Static forms set in repetitive sequences recall the structure of an ecstatic building, made to glorify an unknown higher purpose. The space slowly comes into view, an open passage at the end leads to what appears to be a ritual environment, the Sanctuary. Fragrant water flows through an ordered pattern of geometric incisions in the floor. At the centre, there is a chapel, composed of a detailed network of grids, boxes and openings, the Holy of Holies.

Is this an opening to a new world in which religion, again, plays an important role? Or does the artist use existing symbolisms to lure the mind into a new religion? These are questions the artist leaves the spectator with."

Please do take three minutes to watch this beautiful walk-through of the installation which will give you a clearer picture.

Many years ago, in what seems like another life now, I attended regular Friday night services at a Hindu ashram in Oakland, California. They were wonderful times, but the thing that sticks with me is the magnificent sensory experience of the main Meditation Hall. It was bathed in a low indigo-violet light and the heady smell of incense (delicious Nag Champa and Dhoop). After a video talk by the guru (or sometimes a live talk if the guru was in residence), we would chant or sing in Sanskrit (thankfully it was always projected in phonetic English on a wall), and I regularly had transcendent experiences in which I felt a unique consciousness shift. It was very special and van Veluw's Sanctum seems like it has a similar feeling with its deep, penetrating color and fragrant water, and the sense of a place that is a manifestation/representation, however limited it may be, of a state beyond the physical.

And this profound installation has been resurrected for a site specific presentation at Het HEM, a former ammunition factory, now a home for contemporary culture, in the Dutch city of Zaandam. The artist refers to it as a semi-permanent installation, so it seems to be an open-ended chance to see this marvelous piece.

"Sanctum is a deep blue chapel that appears to float in between two floors. The work invites for contemplation while examining what the architecture of the spiritual consists of. Why do we assign value to objects, to the tangible, within the immaterial realm of faith? What is the basis of our devotion to altars, relics and icons? In the colossal space of Het HEM, Sanctum tests the boundary between an artistic and a spiritual experience."

What the artist is really working with is the idea of symbols and stand-ins for ideas and states of consciousness that are beyond our physical world. These objects become the machinery of the sacred, while ritual is the technology of the sacred. Of course these things can be used in ways that are not so pure or transcendent, which is the basis of a great portion of human suffering. But in a pure form, objects and rituals can be illuminating and serve as a connection to a place in us to which we all, all of us, personally have access.

https://levivanveluw.com/

"The Eighth Elegy" from THE DUINO ELEGIES by Rainer Maria Rilke

For national Poetry Month, here is "The Eighth Elegy" from Rainer Maria Rilke's epic THE DUNIO ELEGIES (previously here).

Started in 1912, but not completed until after the First World War, the ten ELEGIES are mournful and plaintive, like a traditional elegy. But there is also an anxiety present, a longing, a yearning, an élan toward… something. They are questioning, restless. The ELEGIES seem to be trying to find answers, searching for a truth about what is real—searching for a wider truth. They are searching for new ways of thinking and being.

The Eighth Elegy truly captures the difference between existence and EXISTENCE by exploring the perspective of an animal. Rilke shows that, as humans, we are trapped where we are because we are self-aware, because we possess knowledge of time, of our beginning and our ending; almost as if thinking itself creates for us a type of prison (a very Buddhist idea, by the way). We know too much for our own good. But the animal looks out into the world and does not see “world”; instead the animal sees itself. When you are part of everything, there is no separation, no difference between “me” and “not-me.” This is what Rilke strives for: to see ourselves “in everything, healed and whole, forever.” This is a breathtaking idea.

The Eighth Elegy
by Rainer Maria Rilke
translated by Robert Hunter

Animals see the unobstructed
world with their whole eyes.
But our eyes, turned back upon
themselves, encircle and
seek to snare the world,
setting traps for freedom.
The faces of the beasts
show what truly IS to us:
we who up-end the infant and
force its sight to fix upon
things and shapes, not the
freedom that they occupy,
that openess which lies so deep
within the faces of the animals,
free from death!
We alone face death.
The beast, death behind and
God before, moves free through
eternity like a river running.
Never for one day do we
turn from forms to face
that place of endless purity
blooming flowers forever know.
Always a world for us, never
the nowhere minus the no:
that innocent, unguarded
space which we could breathe,
know endlessly, and never require.
A child, at times, may lose
himself within the stillness
of it, until rudely ripped away.
Or one dies and IS the place.
As death draws near,
one sees death no more, rather
looks beyond it with, perhaps,
the broader vision of the beasts.
Lovers, serving only to obstruct
one another's view of it,
approach the place with awe...
as if by accident, it appears
to each behind that precise spot
before which the other stands...
neither can slip behind the other
and so, again, the world returns.
We behold creation's face as though
reflected in a mirror
misted with our breath.
Sometimes a speechless beast
lifts its docile head
and looks right through us.
This is destiny: to be opposites,
always and only to face
one another and nothing else.

Could that surefooted beast,
approaching from a direction
different than our own, aquire
the mental knack to think as do we,
he would spin us round
and drag us with him.
But he is without end unto himself:
devoid of comprehension,
unselfscrutinized, pure
as his outgoing glance.
We see future; he sees
eternal completion.
Himself in all.

Even so, within the alert warmth
of that animal, the weight and care
of one great sadness dwells.
He is not exempt from an unclear
memory-which subdues us as well:
the notion that what we seek was once
closer and truer by far than now...
and infinitely tender.
Here... distances unending.
There... a gentle breathing.
After that first home, this one
seems windstruck and degenerate.
O bliss of the diminutive:
creature born from a particular womb
into womb perpetual.
O delight of the mite who
leaps on, embryonic, though
his wedding day impends!
All is womb to him.
But observe the lesser
certainty of the birds
who seem to know both
circumstances, by
very birthright, like
some Etruscan soul rising from
the cadaver of a sarcophagus
sculpted with its tenant's face.
Imagine the general bafflement
of anything born of the womb
and required to take flight!
Frightened by its very self, it
cuts the air with fractured arcs,
jagged as bat tracks, cracking
the porcelain sky of evening.

We are, above all, eternal spectators
looking upon, never from,
the place itself. We are the
essence of it. We construct it.
It falls apart. We reconstruct it
and fall apart ourselves.

Who formed us thus:
that always, despite
our aspirations, we wave
as though departing?
Like one lingering to look,
from a high final hill,
out over the valley he
intends to leave forever,
we spend our lives saying
goodbye.

"An Egypt That Doesn't Exist" by Rumi

An Egypt That Doesn’t Exist
by Rumi

I want to say words that flame
as I say them, but I keep quiet and don’t try
to make both worlds fit in one mouthful.

I keep secret in myself an Egypt
that doesn’t exist.
Is that good or bad? I don’t know.

For years I gave away sexual love
with my eyes. Now I don’t.
I’m not in any one place. I don’t have a name
for what I gave away. Whatever Shams
gave, that you can have from me.

--Translated by Coleman Barks with John Moyne

BEAUTY: Painting--Chris Sedgwick

Mystical symbols abound in the dense, allegorical work of Chris Sedgwick. These absorbing paintings are crammed full of ideas and concepts from astrology, alchemy, Jungian psychology, science, and genetic biology. He has even created his own code using colored dots to represent the letters of the alphabet and hidden messages are spelled out on banners above or around, and on cloaks and robes on characters in the tableux.

Top to bottom: title unknown; The Geometer; The Passing of the Ages; The Sunset Ritual; The Alchemical Divination of Soul Synthesis

For fascinating and detailed explanations about the symbology, visit his website and click on CONCEPTS.
http://www.crsedgwick.com/

Winter People

Visually apropos of the last post (Active Child's lovely snowy-floury video), and of the winter season upon us, here are gorgeous portraits of Swedish celebrities posing as magical, mystical Snow Queens, Snow Kings, Snow Angels, and Winter Folk, captured by the talented photographer Caroline Roosmark.


Top to bottom: Retired Swedish hockey player Jorgen Jonsson, singer Martin Rolinski, actress Eva Röse, actor and author Erland Josephson, alpine skier and gold medalist Anja Pärson, actress Josephine Bornebusch, actor Per Graffman, and actor Mikael Persbrandt.

http://www.roosmark.com/