Toronto Royal Ontario Museum | ?m | ?s | Daniel Libeskind

I think that's exactly what he's saying.

"The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim." - Oscar Wilde.

Same goes with technique. If you see technique you're missing the message it was meant to convey.
 
... or, to trot out one of my favourite quotes yet again:

"Good design is 98% common sense, but what makes it fascinating is the other 2% - what some call aesthetics or the magic ingredient. You can't quantify this, you can only recognize it. When the magic ingredient is present, the quality of life is improved." - Terence Conran.
 
Maybe I just see Libeskind's work as too audacious in terms of its engineering to forget the work behind it. I don't think that will hinder my ability to appreciate the art of the place when it is finished though. Artifice can be nearly as beguiling as art.

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Metaphors appear quite a lot in the book excerpt, though I think he contradicts himself:

"Buildings with no metaphoric poetry are an endangered species. Few will know how to remember them regardless of how well they function. Occasionally, a building may elicit an unfortunate metaphor inconsistent with its intent: a library that appears to be a fortress, a hospital that resembles a shopping mall, or a school that looks like a prison."

*********

"What makes a metaphor good or bad? The Sydney Opera House becomes the sails of the boats surrounding its site, which juts into Sydey's harbour. While the metaphor has nothing to do with opera, it clarifies the design approach instantaneously, and certainly makes a contextual linkage to the site adjacent to a harbour almost always filled with ... sailboats. It's good because it's obvious: if it's bad it's because it doesn't explain much more about the opera house than its apparent resemblance to a sailing ship."

*********

"While metaphors are useful for describing many buildings before they are built, they are often forgotten arter the fact. People don't talk about Toronto's new city hall, for example, as clam shells of bureaucracy ( hard on the outside, soft with windows on the inside ) protecting a pearl - the council chamber - symbolizing democracy, but they once did. The form demanded an explanation and this is the metaphor that worked versus a more prosaic one. Much like the city hall metaphor, the ROM's crystal may be one that will fade as the building once again becomes simply the ROM. The addition had to become a crystal so we could understand it, but in time it will be more obviously an architect's signature creation, one beyond metaphor."
 
"If you see technique you're missing the message it was meant to convey."

That's rather absolute. Wasn't it you who not so long ago described letting your eye follow the brush strokes of a particular painting? Did that automatically compromise the alleged 'message'? Can't one choose at pretty much any moment to either 'look at' the technique in any given work of art or not? I understand and agree with the spirit of the statement, but I don't think it actually stands up in practice.

Also, technique can sometimes be part of - or all of - 'the message', no?

I really dig Libeskind's work, but those quotations contain generous ladlefuls of pure bullcrap, imo.
 
Libeskind's comment - that when you hear the music the technique disappears - rings true with me.

A year or two ago I heard a couple of bagpipers who were then playing on different streetcorners in Toronto. With one, you were aware of his faulty technique ( and, God knows, when bagpipes aren't played well you don't hear the music ), whereas the other bagpiper was note-perfect and emotionally connected to the stirring and sad lament he was playing - and that emotion was communicated to the listener.

Regarding the example you give, I was fascinated to follow David Milne's scratchy and taut watercolour lines because they were a window into his soul, but that didn't compromise what was primary - my connection to the art.

With visual art you can stop, go back to the previous room in the gallery, and focus on the technique of a painting that you recently saw - because it is always there in front of you. You can "rewind the tape". With a live concert you're moving through time with it, and each note is irretrievable once you've heard it. But the message is still primary. Those "time stood still" moments in concerts, or whatever, are wonderful. Lisa Rochon commented on one of those moments ( the Va Pensiero chorus from Verdi's Nabucco ) in her review of the opera house in June.

If art transcends technique then you won't notice technique because you're too caught up in the message. What would be the point of distancing yourself from it?
 
"What I mean is that if you hear the piano when you're listening to a performance, it's not a very good performance. When you hear the music, the technique disappears."

To quote fiendishlibrarian, that's borderline "bullshit gobbledygook." I don't think it's possible for a musician to listen to certain music and not hear the technique, or, not hear the piano. The technique is always there if you want to notice it. Are "time stood still," abstract emotional fantasylands only possible when you don't hear the piano? That's a little too subjective to answer conclusively.

The phrase could be "when the technique disappears, you hear the music" but they both imply that the technique must disappear for there to be music. If I listen to "Last Post" and the technique is flawless to the point where I stop paying attention, I may become emotionally separated from it and from the musician, but this absolutely cannot happen when I listen to some of the "Carnival of Venice" variations...in this case I may be more connected to the music (and the musician - what's so wrong with connecting art and artist, anyway?) precisely because of the technique.

Also, what if you hear the musician - does Glenn Gould's humming render his performances not "very good"?

Whether or not this example holds up when applied to architecture, I'm not sure. I'm not an architect or an engineer...when I see a building I don't imagine how the joints are welded or what kind of computer program it took to calculate the angles. Libeskind does. It's almost as if he's afraid computers will take some of the creative soul out of architecture and he wants to ensure they remain nothing more than simple tools. Or maybe his ego is worried that he'll gain an asterisk beside his name denoting computer-aided designs.
 
"If art transcends technique then you won't notice technique because you're too caught up in the message."

Agreed. But that's not always the desired effect.

"What would be the point of distancing yourself from it?"

None, necessarily, but it depends on the intent of the artist, does it not? Some art attempts to completely 'seduce' one, or to produce a 'pure art' effect in which one is completely absorbed into the work. In this case, technique 'should' disappear. But Wilde, for instance, is too sweeping in his quip: Brecht or Godard (both of whom, admittedly, came along after him), for example, incorporate intentional distanciation fundamentally into their aesthetic - they don't usually intend to make technique invisible, but rather frequently emphasize it. Their intent is different than what Libeskind is apparently assuming all artists seek to accomplish. He's just not correct on this point. Many post-impressionist artists heaped oil onto canvas in great globs, deliberately drawing technique quite unavoidably to one's attention. That's not to say that such works can't be equally emotionally evocative as 'seductive' or 'invisible-technique' art, because they can be, imo. They just accomplish this evocation in different ways, and with different aims and intended meanings. In other words, in some cases one can both perceive the technique and at once have it 'disappear' in a sense, whilst still getting caught up in the message. It seems to me that one need not necessarily supersede the other - they can co-exist and still deliver a message at full emotional or intellectual power. I don't think technique has to vanish for transcendence to occur.

There are just too many possible variables in the equation to sum up the whole shmiel in one lil' quotation. As mentioned, what does the artist intend? But perhaps even more importantly, who's looking or listening, and how are they doing so? Is one focusing at any given instant on the totality of the work or on a soloist? On just one corner of the canvas, or perhaps on a particularly graceful camera swoop? What's the viewer or listener's personal or previous artistic experience been? If it's music in question, does the listener play an instrument? This will surely affect perception and interpretation along with myriad other factors. One can also drift in and out, so to speak: one moment startled and dazzled by a musician's sheer dexterity and mastery, the next drawn into a sublime dream-state, and then perhaps back again. It all just depends on too many elements to be treated so reductively. Art can be almost anything one chooses, and can have almost infinite intents, evoking infinite possible kinds of reactions - declaring that detectable technique is just no good short-changes what art itself can be, as well as how it can be experienced, and limits the definition of artistic 'success' to only a single kind of effect: 'message-getting'.
 
To get a bit reductivist here: don't forget there's a difference btw/computer-aided *design* and computer-aided *construction*...
 
My contribution to this discussion is limited to my experience to literature, where it is impossible to separate technique from message, vis-a-vis Joyce, and, as mentioned earlier, Brecht...although to that I would include Kafka and D.H. Lawrence....modernism et al, etc....
 
a library that appears to be a fortress
This kind of discussion always reminds me of the Vancouver library, modelled after the Coliseum. Possibly the most inappropriate metaphor I can think of.
 
scarberiankhatru:

I don't think that musicians are blocked from hearing the message of a piece of music by their professional interest in observing technique either. That would be sad. Or that being a musician means that you automatically rise above mere technical skill, to have a greater understanding of the message. There are journeyman musicians who play the notes but don't get the bigger picture of the message - just as there are technically proficient designers or architects who don't have that "other 2%", that "magic ingredient", that Conran talks about.

In my own - non-musician - experience, those "time stood still" moments are indeed times when I didn't hear the piano. The piano, the brush, the pencil, the chisel are tools to achieve the end result.

And the flip side is that there's nothing sadder than a conceptual artist without ideas.

I'm not sure how any of this applies to architecture either. I know that technique was used to create the hall of our new opera house. And during the performances I attended the technique used to create the hall disappeared - the dark walls eliminated visual distractions and the excellent acoustics focused us on the music alone. But excellence of that kind is unforgiving too - bum notes from the orchestra stood out far more than at the Hummingbird Centre. The high standard of design in that place will demand high artistic standards of the performers - or else faulty technique takes the place of great performance.

I think that what Libeskind means is that there is a "computer aided design" look to some buildings. I know that when computer illustration began some 25 years ago it was very basic in style and you could spot it a mile away. The technique screamed at you. Technical people often get carried away with their skills and maybe assume that they can pass off their skills as the magic 2%, which of course they can't.
 
"I don't think that musicians are blocked from hearing the message of a piece of music by their professional interest in observing technique either. That would be sad."

I didn't say that - I was responding more to Libeskind's silly comment that technique automatically ruins the performance, that suspension of disbelief must be maintained so that "there is no piano," only music coming from the heavens and entering your mind while you're deeply lost in your own daydreaming, as if this type of message is the only thing to be gotten out of art. This is all really not a big deal - if you're watching a pianist, you're observing technique even you're not actively caring about it. I don't play the piano but time can most definitely stand still for 45 minutes while you're watching the hands of a pianist while he's playing Rachmaninov's 3rd piano concerto.

"Or that being a musician means that you automatically rise above mere technical skill, to have a greater understanding of the message."

Sometimes...it depends on the music. And not greater understanding - unless the message is the technique - but greater appreciation, maybe.

Then there's 3D stereograms...without observing technique you cannot find the message. Of course, these are done on computers, but so what?
 
Lest we forget, author Kelvin Browne is also a ROM employee - he's managing director of their Institute for Contemporary Culture.
 
Pics from this past Saturday:

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New glazing on the gift shop window.

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West crystal.

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Closeup - some sort of metal shim.

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Better look at the glazing.

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Both the entrance and east crystals are coming along.

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Interesting "notch" at the base of the linear windows.

AoD
 

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