Sunday 20 August 2017

Platonic Solids


OK my last blog was perhaps a bit too much 'in your face'. Sorry but there are times when I just can't help it. I'm going make amends, kind of, by a modest act of giving. I am about to give a lesson. A lesson on Platonic solids, or polyhedra, which is their proper name.

Polyhedra, which as an imaginative student of Maths, I used to imagine as a many-headed Hydra (hydra ~ hedra) covered in azure, emerald green and blood red feathers (poly ~ Polly, the parrot in Flaubert's Polly), polyhedra are nothing more (and nothing less) than 3-dimensional objects whose every face - every single one - is a regular polygon. The same polygon.

There are any number of polygons as you please. Not so with polyhedra. There are, as we will see, only five of them. We'll see how come only five. We will also take a quick leap outside, into 4- 5- and higher-dimension space. How many can we spot with mathematical eyes?

We will even look at what we mean by space, 3-d space, and the polyhedra within them. How do these relate to the space they are embedded in? Is it a case of distillation or representation? Art as representation is what a long train of thinkers that stretches all the way from Aristotle to the present have presented as the core essence of Art. Not for me. I prefer to think of Art as distillation.

Would that be compensation enough? All of the above?

Well, it will have to. This frustration that I feel has as it source something which is not my doing and which not I but someone else can possibly redress. There will be other occasions for me to burst out on the reader and there's precious little I can do about it except for these very modest amends. I ask your forgiveness in advance. Now, for the lesson.

PLATONIC SOLIDS:

Do they exist?

Construct one and see for yourself. We could easily construct one whose faces are square. You need a total of six squares arranged in a crucifix formation with 4 making the vertical stem and, at the second square from the top, put a square on either side as the arms of the crucifix. Then simply fold the squares along the lines they share with the neighbouring square so that they are at 90 degrees to each other. And there you have it:



They are known as Platonic because in the Timaeus, where Plato unfolds his carefully wrought and elaborate account of the formation of the universe, these solids make an appearance as the elementary building blocks. Four of them stand for four different elements of the material world - earth, water, air and fire. The fifth element, which in India, China and Tibet was associated with the void and in preSocratic Greece with aether, had all but disappeared from the Classical classification of the basic elements so Plato just associates the 5th Platonic solid with the arrangement of the constellations in heaven. The scraps, so to speak.

So, we have  the cube - the one we constructed above - which stands for the Earth, the tetrahedron for Fire, the octahedron for Air and the icosahedron for Water. The 5th solid, with the obscure use of arranging the constellations in the heavens, is the dodecahedron. Here they are:


Tetrahedron (Fire)


The association with fire is probably due to the fact that the shape of the solid has very sharp corners, evoking the prickliness of fire.


Cube/Hexahedron (Earth)

 The cube offers maximum stability with its centre of mass symmetrical about its six faces. That alone should make it a perfect match with the Earth, which for the geocentrically-minded Greeks was the center of the universe. It is interesting to note here that the origins of geoncentricism are attributed to this quality of the earth - the earth is the solid ground beneath our feet. Our ancestors had no choice but to embrace geocentricism.


Octahedron (Air)


Why air? I have no idea, or rather, too many to decide on one. 


Icosahedron (Water)



Water. Maybe because the 20 faces make it slip through the fingers, just like water drops.




Dodecahedron (The Heavens)


Notice that the faces of the solids are regular polygons. This is part of the definition of the polyhedron - a 3-dimensional  geometric object whose faces are made up of the same regular polygon.
Now for the scheme, it goes like this:


SHAPE                                    VERTICES                                       EDGES                             FACES

Cube                                               8                                                        12                                     6

Tetrahedron                                   4                                                        6                                       4

Octahedron                                    6                                                        12                                     8

Icosahedron                                   12                                                      30                                     20

Dodecahedron                               20                                                      30                                      12


Where by vertix we mean the point where the lines meet on the surface i.e. the part you would use if you wanted to stab someone in the eye with a polyhedron, the edges are the lines that connect the vertices and the space enclosed by edges is what we mean by a face.

Now, just by studying the table you start getting the suspicion that there might be some pattern here. Compare the icosahedron with the dodecahedron and the octahedron with the cube - if you exchange the no of vertices with the number of faces, the number of edges stays the same. If we trust the Ancient Greek's intuition that there are only five of these solids, there might be a defining pattern which as a characteristic of polyhedra might even tell us why there can be only five of them.

This pattern was discovered by Leonard Euler and has since been known as the Euler characteristic:

                                                   V - E + F = 2,

with V for vertices, E for edges, F for faces

We now need to prove this. How? Graph theory:)

Graph theory is basically the study of 2-dimensional pathways - given a number of objects, which the theory models as nodes or points, we study the pairwise paths connecting the nodes. If you study graph theory well enough, you might even find a position as apprentice to a fishing-net mender.

 Let's think of our polyhedra as graphs with the vertices as the nodes. The edges of the solid would then be the pathways. What about the faces? We will let the space enclosed by the edges correspond to the faces, but we will also count the space outside the graph as a face. This will allow us to transform polyhedra into graphs, enabling us to study them a bit more easily.

This is how we do it. Take a top view of the object. Consider the cube. Imagine we lit a light on top of a glass cube and look at the projection of the cube on the flat surface under the cube. It would look like this:




Count the number of vertices (the nodes of the graph), the edges (the paths of the graph) and the faces (the spaces enclosed by the paths of the graph) and see that the number is preserved, even for the faces where the top face of the cube corresponds to the space outside the graph.

So what we have here is what is known as a mapping - the graph is not a polyhedron. It inhabits a totally different space - 2nd dimensional and unmetered. But it bears a correspondence with the solids in terms of number of edges, vertices and faces.

OK. Let's prove that V - E + F = 2

We start with the simplest graph imaginable - just one node standing alone like the navel of a null universe. We have

                            1 - 0 + 1 = 2

Correct!

Now lets consider the graph of the cube:

We will start dismantling the graph by removing edges and checking that the Euler characteristic remains constant. Take away one edge.We have removed an edge but we have also removed a face, meaning that V - E + F remains the same. Why? Well,we have V - E + F. If we remove a face and  an edge it becomes V - (E-1) +(F-1) = V - E + 1 + F - 1 = V - E + F -1 + 1 = V - E + F +0 = V - E + F.



So we can go ahead and remove all the edges around the perimeter of the graph and be sure V - E + F does not change. Next, we'll remove the edges left standing awkwardly alone on the outside. When we remove one edge we will also remove a vertex, so once more Euler's characteristic remains the same.  As an exercise prove that ( V-1) - ( E - 1) + F = V - E + F. Then go ahead and remove all.

We are left with this:




Remove an edge. We have also removed a face (in fact, we have reduced the faces to the bare minimum of one), so the characteristic stays the same. Now remove a node and an edge at once. Once again, the characteristic stays the same. Now you prove it all the way! Continue till we get the single node/vertex/navel of a desert universe. In this manner all graphs of polyhedra can be reduced to this single node, preserving at all times the Euler characteristic.Therefore we can conclude that Euler's pattern is correct and a necessary characteristic of all polyhedra.

The question now is - what does V - E + F  = 2 tell us about the possibility that there might be only 5 possible polyhedra? OK, time we said goodbye to graph theory and rolled up our sleeves for some algebra.

*The algebra we'll use is elementary but I understand that school education has a way of scaring people off doing Maths for the rest of their lives. If you are one of those victims, you can skip the following algebraic argument and accept the fact that V - E + F = 2  implies that there can only be 5 combinations possible.  You do not have to feel bad about it. This argument has been  conceived and reviewed by generations of mathematicians - it is logical and intelligent to assume that is correct without going through the mill yourself.  In any case, when we discuss higher dimensions, I won't provide a proof of the claim I'll make.
 
First, we'll add two variables:

Nv as the number of edges meeting at each vertex

Nf as the number of edges that enclose a face

Let's now study the relationship between Nv and E, that is, the relationship between the number of edges meeting at every vertex and the total number of edges.  Each edge connects two vertices, therefore if we multiply Nv by V we will have counted the edges twice. To get the right answer then we would have to divide (Nv x V) by two to get

E = (Nv x V)/2

and by a similar argument (keep in mind that each edge touches two faces)

E = (Nf x F)/2

 Manipulating these equations we get

V = 2E/Nv  (1)   and    F = 2E/Nf   (2)

Substituting (1) and (2) into V - E + F = 2 we get

2E/Nv - E + 2E/Nf = 2

and simplifying

1/Nv + 1/Nf = 1/2 + 1/E,

which implies that

1/Nv + 1/Nf > 1/2 since E > 0

Now we have the following facts:

Nv >/= 3, since you need a minimum of 3 edges to enclose at each vertex in a 3-d object and
Nf >/= 3 since you need a minimum of 3 edges to enclose a face

1. Starting with Nv >/= 3, we have 1/Nv </= 1/3, meaning 1/Nf > 1/2 - 1/3 = 1/6, meaning Nf  can be 3, 4, 5

2. By exactly the same argument, Nv can be 3, 4 or 5.

So, this is what we have discovered - that the number of edges connecting vertices or enclosing faces on polyhedra can only be 3, 4 or 5. Lets see what that means in terms of combinations possible.

a) When Nf = 3, 1/Nv > 1/6 implying that Nv < 6 i.e. Nv = 3, 4, 5
b) When Nf = 4, 1/Nv > 1/4 implying that Nv < 4 i.e. Nv = 3
c) When Nf = 5, 1/Nv > 3/10 implying that Nv < 10/3 i.e. Nv = 3

As you can see, there are only 5  possible combinations and these correspond to:

Nf                                   Nv                                        Solid
3                                     3                                           Tetrahedron
3                                     4                                           Octahedron
3                                     5                                            Icosahedron
4                                     3                                            Cube
5                                     3                                            Dodecahedron


Now, I should point out that the above proof is not rigorous but it is perfectly OK as a demonstration i.e.grounds enough for any intelligent person to accept the fact of there being only 5 Platonic solids. Though, truth be told, it is just as intelligent to assume all of the foregoing.

What about higher dimensions? We actually have a generalisation of Euler characteristic that holds for all polytopes (i.e. all regular 'solids' in any dimension - polygons, polyhedra, etc). What it tells us is that there are only six 4-polytopes (ie. only 6 regular shapes in 4-d) and only 3 in all the higher dimensions.

The proof is much more technical than the foregoing so we will have to give that a miss. The formula just says that the alternating sign sum of the characteristics will alternate between zero and two. So, with polygons it is V - E = 0, and you can check it's true. Which should also show you what there's an infinity of them. For the 4-th dimensional polytopes it's V - E + F - S = 0, where S stands for some quality that we cannot visualise (not anymore than an inhabitant of Flatland could visualise a face).

The main fact here is that from 3-d upwards, the set of possible polytopes for a given dimension becomes finite, which is what makes my mind draw analogies with distillation.. Mathematically, space is insubstantial - a set of point and points are not things.  You can take Aristotelian exception to the fact that Euclid says the point is that which has no parts. Points do not occupy space. They are like phanthom arrows - they do not cover where they point. A set of points, whether 1-,2-,3-tuple points, is just another form assumed by the void. The protean Void in its many guises, one of which is the fabric of what we know as reality. In a process analogous to distillation, at least in my mind's eye, these points, these tuples enter into states of interdependence. In 3-d space, they form what we call solids by analogy with elements of (our) reality's miniscule and dispersed onthology.  Space is actuated, made substantial rather than just represented.

In this view, the conception of polyhedra in the mind of a human being is a creative act. For art is not really about representation. Art is not even a thing. Art is an act, an act of distillation.

As an artist I hold this concept very close to heart as I have always disliked the classical formulation of art-as-representation. Art-as-distillation - distillation of experience, including of course the experience of space, this is how I have always thought about art.  Never as representation.

 In The Art of Looking Sideways, Alan Fletcher says
Space is substance. Cezanne painted and modelled space. Giacometti sculpted by "taking the fat off space". Mallarme conceived poems with absences as well as words. Ralph Richardson asserted that acting lay in pauses... Isaac Stern described music as "that little bit between each note - silences which give the form"... The Japanese have a word (ma) for this interval which gives shape to the whole. In the West we have neither word nor term. A serious omission.

Indeed, Ma is a key concept in traditional Japanese aesthetics. It is sometimes referred to as negative space, something that is often misinterpreted by Western art critics as blank space - it is anything but blank. It is full. Full space, goddamit! 


Monday 14 August 2017

Exploitation

Before getting back online I made a promise to myself. I promised myself that whatever happens, whatever crap I skid into, I won't ever complain and I will not let it get me in any way. You should know I used to have an art blog (here on blogger) and also a page on deviantart. Then I had enough. I had enough of being ignored. It was much better on deviantart, where a small number of users actually gave me feedback and lots of it. Very few, true, very few responded but when compared with blogger it was like being in the middle of a chanting magic forest...in the jungle, the mighty jungle..

It never quite got to the wimba wimba way, mind you. But the silence I used to get and still get on blogger has something of the sinister to it. It brings to mind torture. It feels like calculated indifference. I am aware it probably isn't. It's just my passion and enthusiasm for art and engagement in conversation that distorts the absence of intent into evidence of evil intent. But, that's who I am. A man of passion. I won't just sit here, this side of the cybernatic fence, writing blogs for others to skim and throw into the bin, while those on the other side keep sending me statistics of how many visitors hit the site. I do not care how many, in all honesty, I do not give a flying, wheeling, lurching, bending, crawling, twisting fuck. All I want to see is a reaction and if that won't come I will not give up. I keep punching the air till I fall on the ground:) LOL, I am joking but not only...not entirely.

 Anyway, here's a collection of works that also had to be cut short. The paintings are all inspired by exploitation cinema (the kind that straddle the border with pornography, not the art film genre). As in all my works - it is, if I may say so without sounding inordinately immodest, the greatest merit of my work that it provokes thought - the idea was to kindle some kind of debate in society about the meaning of art and pornography.



Mermaid in a manhole




Masque of the Red Death




Balck Emmanuelle and the Last Cannibals




caligula




Suspiria

Buio Omega




Ilsa Harem Keeper of the SS




Izo




She killed in Ecstacy

Sunday 13 August 2017

Churches


One thing I have been doing since I decided to stop painting is take stock of the work I've done recently. A lot of it has been sold and, regrettably, I have no record of most of the work, except the most recent. The following are paintings of church and palace interiors - a collection in the making that was aborted rather abruptly when I realised that it was time for soul searching, not production. The paintings are not marked by an asterisk as they are currently being displayed in a local gallery for sale - I need money to pay for renovations in the house of the woman who will soon be my wife.

Hopefully, they'll sell for a decent price although I am not very hopeful after three interested buyers backed off when I informed them that the paintings are smaller than A4. They felt that 200 euros was too hefty for a painting that size, which is something I truly and honestly do not understand. Let me be clear. I am aware that aesthetics does not bear a one-to-one relationship with market price, the former being the domain of the artist and the art critic, the latter of the art dealer and art buyers. These two players - the dealers and the buyers - set the rules of the price game. They decide on the criteria and there's every reason to suppose that aesthetics will not be the dominant factor in the determination of those criteria. However, I would never have guessed that size should feature so prominently!

Actually, it makes you suspect that these market players have imported this factor from some other sector, possibly the home decorations market. Indeed, it is not uncommon at all to find paintings for sale along with sofabeds and wardrobes in furniture and home furnishing shops. Maybe the Maltese art market is seen by its players as an extension of the home decoration market. It sure sounds very, very, very philistine, very middleclass, very 'small'.

Most of my work is this size because I do not have a studio. I paint in my bedroom at my parents' house. Once I move in with Erika, I will eventually rent out a garage to paint in and maybe I'll start producing larger paintings. But this is not an issue and I wouldn't be even complaining about these people weren't it for the fact that I happen to need the money at the moment. In other circumstances, I would just ignore these philistines who cannot see more in a work of art than just a piece of furniture.







Saturday 12 August 2017

Horrible Workers

I have this curious habit of imagining I was a member of a historical art movement. I see myself as a friend of Derain and Matisse, say, and I try to imagine what kind of art I would produce. As an icon painter living at the time of the great Andrei Rubleyev, or an early impressionist...the fantasy takes me through the history of Art as I first learnt it when as a child I received The Reader's Digest Great Artists as a birthday gift.

The latest fantasy took me all the way to Château de Fontainebleau, the focus of European Mannerist artists seeking refuge from the lawlessness that had swept over many European countries. This time, as on a few other occasions, I did not limit myself to imagining the art I woud produce. I produced it.







It goes without saying that the end product is not what you would typically expect from an artist belonging to the chosen art movement or period. Obviously, if I'm going to take the trouble to envisage myself outside the bounds of the present, it will not be in the guise of what Rimbaud called 'the horrible workers'.

Friday 11 August 2017

Prison of Matter

The sense of the wondrous with its mischievous predilection for the outlandish, the preposterous, the gratuitously anarchic haunts minds of a very peculiar sensibility but of no other identifiable denominator. Even the giant amoeba is more discerning in identifying the pools and ponds whose surface it will subsume - there are eligibility criteria defined by tolerance or intolerance to certain conditions: level of salinity, average exposure to sunlight, net disturbance of the surface water, presence of other biota within the body of water, depth, surface tension, etc. The sense of the wondrous needs only one condition - a sensibility that in the not so distant past was associated with those likely to succumb to TB: an vivid mind and a tendency to wander in search of what Rilke might have termed 'invisible honey'.

This quirk, this imp of the fantastic does not just settle on the surface of the pool, however. It sinks into the entire being, infusing every aspect of the mind and its myriad venues of expression and perception. Why is it, a friend once asked me, that when I look at the scales on a male pine cone I see the many eyes of a forest goddess? Why does it happen to me and not to my brother or father? Why does it not even happen to my mother? They only see a pine cone...And how come you can understand?

I could have answered that it cannot be so unique, especially for artists, poets and dreamers. Leonardo da Vinci in his book on painting suggests artists try staring at cracks in walls to conjure up images of landscapes. I am not implying in any way that those possessed of this sense are necessarily creative individuals. There's only one denominator - a very peculiar species of sensibility. So peculiar, in fact, it is unlikely to be coveted. On the contrary, I think the general feeling of people who have this special sense is that they are somewhat badly put together. We do not live in a world that encourages imagination in people who are older than 5.  Being described as a dreamer would only pass as a compliment in certain restricted circles. And, then one has to admit it does not pay off  in social life, and even less in the wild, to walk around floating in your own thoughts like an errant Kongming lantern riding an ocean breeze.

I recall I was around 7 years old. My parents and I had just been to mass at St John's Cathedral in Valletta (the one that houses Caravaggio's greatest masterpiece - The Beheading of St John). I was perturbed by a thought but I do not know now where the thought had come from. Was it something the priest had said during the homily? Or did the thought crop up before, possibly many days before that mass at St John's?

I do not know but I remember what was bothering me. Infinity. The thought had occurred to me that matter, having extension, must necessarily be bounded in space. So I thought, does matter fall off abruptly at some arbitrary point? Or does it continue extending forever in what to my mind felt like an immense and oppressive prison of matter within matter?

I remember looking into a shop window opposite the church, seeing the reflection of my sullen face and that of my parents laughing about something and asking myself - where does it end? And why are they laughing? Don't they realize where they are?

I wish I could talk to that child now. To explain to him that both space and matter, which are different things, can be bounded without 'falling off' (I know he would understand, he was smart:)) I would want to tell him that there's nothing truly oppressive in infinite extension as the range of human experience would never allow us to cover a distance whereby eternal recurrence becomes manifest - for as long as we exist and travel and explore the world around us, things will always keep surprising us with their novelty. Fortunately, we are mortal. And so is the planet and the Sun out there and those specks of light, the stars. We are all mortal.

But most importantly, I would like to tell him to look in the shop window again and close his eyes and breathe. It's OK, boy. Just a little sadness, a little panic, it will go.

It is this reason I painted this painting a couple of weeks ago, as a means to talk to that little child whose heart is it here in my chest, the heart of a hopeless dreamer...




Reflection *




Thursday 10 August 2017

Ex Voto

My experience has taught me that artistic evolution belongs more to the model of evolution championed by Stephen Jay Gould - slow, steady growth punctuated by catastrophe. Twenty years ago I painted mostly faces and human figures in an expressionist style that drew heavily on Munch, Baselitz, Francis Bacon and Van Gogh. Then I reached an impasse, a catastrophe: I found I could only produce versions of the same thing and I coudn't take it. I started looking at other art - Romanesque and Byzantine paintings and I found a new channel for expression. Unfortunately, I have no photos of these works to show here but the point is, after a while I had to admit to  myself that I had reached a point beyond which, it seemed, I could not advance. So I stopped painting all together.

It took me 5 years before I dared pick up the brush again, 5 years in which I used up the extra time (and extra creative energy) to catch up with my interests in maths, science and philosophy. When I took up painting again, I exploded into a rage of prolific activity, painting just about anything that caught my fancy until I hit upon the notion of a collection of paintings based on Northern Renaissance art depicting scenes of Christ's life. The idea was to focus on the details - only the limbs, no faces.

The collection culminated in an exhibition, EX VOTO in March 2016. Here's a sample of the works:
















The exhibition was a success and I felt confident that I could continue developing along these lines but soon after I found myself trying to break free from this mode of representation. It's some kind of spiritual restlessness that precipitates the crisis. I make a discovery, develop a mode of representation and instead of settling down to it, resigning myself to a future as the artist who paints harrowing faces, the artist who paints sacred but faceless body parts, I start seeking new venues, rethinking, soul searching.

It is clear to me that this has happened again to me. I have taken the decision to stop painting for some time to give myself the space, the cover under which a new metamorphosis will hopefully take place. Will I survive this crisis? I have no idea...

Wednesday 9 August 2017

Recognition

In this blog I will post some more work that I did immediately following my 5 year break from painting. It's not that I think this is some watershed period in the evolution of my art but it's a convenient way of structuring the database, as it were.

Having said that, I should admit that on the psychological level, starting to paint again and showing my work was a big event for me, something which is not entirely fortunate as it brings with it expectations. Put simply, I expect reactions. Not necessarily positive, although I like those especially (duh!). For me it's a little like being in a relationship - I'd rather have my partner shout and rage at me than have her sitting in the passenger seat next to me, looking out of the window in the cold silence of absolute detachment while I drive into the distance.

Reactions are costly. I do not understand why. Maybe because by reacting people are in a sense investing in you. In Hegelian terms, they are granting you recognition of sentience, something they would rather withhold. Like the Master. Or maybe it's something else. I do not know. What I know is that it irks me that people find it so bloody hard to say something. I worked for years at two schools of English, one in Malta and the other in Prague. In both schools I was something of a success with the students but it took my bosses years to come up to me and acknowledge it verbally. Why? Wherefore this reticence? What does it cost to let the other know you appreciate their efforts? I honestly do not understand.

Anyway, here's some more work - the period is roughly from 2011 to 2015.

Halmet



Symbiosis





View from my flat in Mlada Boleslav





Stepanka Park (with Milan and Lily)





Pool




Stairway to villa (Slovenia)





Valletta Street





Valletta Street





Leaf





Lichen





Sparrow startled by its own image




Perseus and the witches





Portrait





Die roll





Medusa





Fall





Stepanka Park





View from my flat on Komensky Namesti





Stepanka Park





Stepanka





View from my flat on Komensky Namesti



 




Church on Namesti Miru (Prague)





Monument in Prague


And now for a few paintings:

Albino killer





Hare





No More Room in Hell





After Boticelli (Aphrodite)

Platonic Solids

OK my last blog was perhaps a bit too much 'in your face'. Sorry but there are times when I just can't help it. I'm going...