Thursday 17 March 2011

Some thoughts about the sixties

There’s been a great deal written, said, portrayed, discussed and debated about the about the period we know as ‘the sixties’ which, for the purpose of this exercise we will define as the years 1958-1973. The very fact that this decade has left such an apparently indelible mark in the minds of so many does seem to suggest that something special or different happened at that time. But was Arthur Marwick’s statement that “the sixties was a period of exceptional social and cultural change”, justifiable? And we are faced with a fundamental problem. How exactly do we define exceptional without studying every other decade in history?

Putting this basic issue to the side for the moment we can still examine a selection of events from the sixties to determine their impact at that time and also their longer term influence. Here we will look at events from three perspectives; history, history of science and art history. The question is, were the events of the sixties a mere fad or do they influence society and its culture today?

History
There will inevitably be a number of historical events in every decade which influence society at that time and whose effects will continue to be felt either expressly or influentially for many years. Similarly there will be events which appear significant but later lose their importance. I have chosen two subjects which I think illustrate this point.
1 – Communication
Although the first BBC television broadcast was made in 1936, and television ownership had been widespread in the United States throughout the 1950s, it was not until the sixties that television made any great impression in UK homes. Foreign travel was still expensive and television was able to bring new ideas and cultures into British living rooms. It also brought news in a new format, in words and moving pictures. (Arguably this already existed through news films in cinemas but these were not up to date and smacked of propaganda.) Television brought comedy, drama, sport, music and a whole raft of entertainment, education and information into people’s homes in a way that had never been done before. In the sixties it brought people a new awareness of the world around them. Today communication and television are still an enormous and greater influence in every part of our lives and contribute a great deal to our social and cultural development.
2 – The Space Race
On 20 July 1969 Neil Armstrong, an American, became the first man to stand on the surface of the moon. The Apollo programme had been launched in 1963 with the singular aim of landing humans on the moon. The Russians had already sent the first man into orbit around the earth and it was felt important that America reach the moon before their rivals claimed it in the name of communism, which was at that time seen as a real threat to the American way of life. At the time of the lunar landing there was unprecedented media coverage of the event – by that time it was possible to broadcast live television across the globe. While landing on the moon remains one of man’s greatest achievements, its significance is debatable. Beyond being a major media event, we have learned little that can change our lives on earth. In the short term it brought about a great sense of pride in the Americans, which would in some way be an indication of cultural change. The country had been embroiled in the Vietnam war which was not universally popular among its citizens. But in the longer term its social and cultural impact is minimal.

History of Science
1 – The scientific counter culture
Here we will focus primarily on events in the United States since they are well documented and different from events in the UK. Different in the sense that science in America was significantly more involved in the development of military equipment. Since the end of World War 2 the country had involved itself in major conflicts in Korea and Vietnam. The development of weapons systems, and hence military superiority, was a priority for successive US governments facing increasing criticism over the loss of American lives in ‘foreign’ wars and the perceived threat from Russia. Even during World War 2 the Americans realised that science and technology could win wars with the development of the atomic bomb.
As a result of the US government’s substantial budgets and endless quest for superior weapons, the franchise of a number of academic scientific institutions was transformed. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology in particular benefited from government funding in return for undertaking weapons based research throughout the 1950s and 1960s.
In the late 1960s a scientific counter culture emerged when students and academics alike staged protests against what they saw as the overemphasis in the development of military technology at academic institutes. These protest, and ensuing debates, which involved universities across the US, did, to some degree, have their desired effect in that the close links between academic institutions and government weapons research was lessened – for a while at least.
The government realised that academics were unreliable as development partners. Instead they switched their allegiance and much of their funding to commercial organisations for whom the morality of weapons development plays a less significant role.
It may be correct to define the impact on these events on academic institutions as being exceptional as they helped define the relationship between government and academia. However, in terms of social and cultural impact, these events have had literally no lasting effect. Today there is a volume of evidence which supports close links at the highest levels between the US government and military developers and manufacturers. Military research, development and production continue apace.

2 – The contraceptive pill
“The Pill” is an oral contraceptive, for women, developed during the 1950s. It was first used in America in 1960 and in the UK the following year. On it first introduction its use was primarily by, and in some places restricted to, married women who wished to limit the size of their family. But it was possible for single women to be prescribed the pill and today its use in the UK is widespread being available without prescription  via family planning clinics.
The pill is an example of a scientific development which has had a significant immediate and long lasting impact on our culture. It played a role in the sexual liberation of women in the sixties. It gave single and married women the power to enjoy a sexual relationship without the fear and responsibility of an unwanted pregnancy. Similarly, the pill has led to a reduction in the number of abortions. While these are no longer illegal there is still some slight stigma attached to abortion in the UK and it also raises other moral questions.
The pill continues to this day to be a popular form of contraception in the UK. The national Survey of Sexual Attitudes and Lifestyles completed in 2000, found that around 80 per cent of British women use the pill at some time between the ages of 16 and 24.
It has not been without its detractors - principally the Catholic Church and some of the more extreme anti-abortion groups.
But overall it is reasonable to say that the pill is an example of a scientific development which has resulted in exceptional cultural (giving women a greater sense of sexual freedom) and social (impacting on population statistics) change.

Art History
Joseph Conrad once described art as “an assault on the senses”. Here he was describing art in its various forms – painting, music, sculpture, writing etc. Certainly this seems like a reasonable definition though perhaps “a planned and deliberate assault on the senses” would be better since it excludes, for example, a car crash.
Here though we will discuss only the art of painting and how, or if, its development during the sixties had any real impact.
By its very nature art is a challenging subject for the artist and the viewer. Throughout the long history of art there have been a number of movements – such as dada, expressionism and surrealism – which have challenged what has come before. But was the sixties any different and did the movements which came to prominence then have any wider social and cultural impact beyond the art establishment? The art establishment is arguably part of a culture itself but not necessary representative of wider public views and opinions, so lets conveniently wash over that point. But to answer the broader question, lets look at two artists who enjoyed some significant popularity, notoriety and commercial success during that period.

1 - Andy Warhol
Warhol is synonymous with the pop-art movement, using art to reflect popular culture in a manner which arguably mocked art itself.
Warhol’s most famous works took everyday objects such as a tin of soup or coke bottle, or iconic figures such as Che Guevara and Marilyn Monroe and repeated them on the canvas in a simple grid arrangement. While this was certainly a challenge to the art establishment it was an equal challenge to the non-expert in understanding why this would be classified as art – particularly when he had simply taken recognisable objects and duplicated them. However, in every sense, Warhol’s work, or at least his more famous works, did produce an assault on the senses.
His work also differed from mainstream art in his use of materials. Much of his work did not consist of paint on canvas but instead used a silkscreen printing process – in a sense, manufactured art. Warhol didn’t just influence the content of art, he influenced its production as well.
Warhol’s longer term influence on the world of art and artists can still be felt today. For example Tray Emin’s ‘My Bed’, which was a controversial winner of the 1999 Turner Prize, uses a collection of everyday objects.
It is hard though to relate the work of any pop artist of the sixties to any exceptional, or even unexceptional, social change. His ‘Red Race Riot’ of 1963 may have highlighted racial inequality but did not provoke a riot and nor did it become a symbol of any racial equality movement, though it’s unlikely that was ever Warhol’s intention.
Culturally though pop-art has helped to bring art closer to people who had previously associated the subject with older paintings. In some ways it made art more accessible to a wider audience by providing instantly recognisable objects and opened the door for mimicry of Warhol’s style – Warhol could have no qualms with this as he had simply and literally mimicked what he had seen to create his art.

2 – Mark Rothko
Mark Rothko was a proponent of the Abstract Expressionism school of art which began in America in the 1940’s before flourishing later in the 1950s and throughout the 1960s. Abstract Expressionism is characterised by the use of colour and brushstrokes on a large canvas to create an emotion rather than people and objects to create a ‘picture’.
Abstract Expressionism was never a popular movement in the way that pop-art grabbed the public’s attention. It expressed the introverted emotions of the artists, glorified its own creation and was generally inaccessible to the masses. It is difficult to see that it has led to any social or cultural change at the time – where it may have had some ‘in-thing’ value – and certainly its legacy is not significant today beyond cheap imitations on the walls of provincial coffee shops.

Conclusion
As indicated at the beginning, there will never be a clear answer to the question of whether or not the sixties was a period of exceptional social and cultural change. My own belief is that it was no more and no less exceptional than many other ‘decades’ which could be studied. It’s possible to pick any period in history and suggest that it had its own unique characteristics which brought about social and cultural change, for example, the industrial revolution in the late eighteenth century, Live Aid in 1985 and the Wall Street crash of 1929.
What is exceptional about the sixties though is that it signalled a sea change in attitudes towards the establishment and authority and ‘legitimised’ the moral right of every person to protest against the things they disagreed with. In this sense it was exceptional and its impact can be felt today when we see protests and marches against our own elected governments, consumer watchdogs telling people how to stand up for themselves against big organisations and the power of communication giving every man a voice that can be heard.

The character of Medea

Medea is a character from Greek mythology who features in the story of Jason and the Golden Fleece. In the play by Euripides we come across Medea some time after she has married Jason and has moved with him to Corinth where she has borne him two sons. We know already from tales set before this time that Medea is capable of murderous acts. She was complicit in the murder of her own brother in an act which would help Jason escape with the Golden Fleece.

Medea was in fact a well established character in Greek mythology and so her background, personality and previous activities may well have been known by the audience. She is a citizen of Colchis who moves to Corinth where she is viewed as an outsider. Medea is a story of moral decline, though it could be argued that since she had previously been involved in the murder of her brother and others then this decline had already begun before the start of the play.

Our introduction to Medea in this play is given by her children’s nurse and tutor. Here were are presented with the tale of a woman who has been wronged by her husband. This opening section serves to fill us with sympathy for Medea and the position she now finds herself in. “…to come here with this man who now spurns and insults her.”, “Poor woman! Has she not stopped crying yet?”. Medea herself, as yet unseen, reinforces the hopelessness of her position through her wailings from indoors, ”Come, flame from the sky, pierce through my head! What do I gain from living any longer?”. We are presented initially with the image of a woman who is distraught.

When Medea first appears on stage however, she seems far from the wretch we have imagined, “She is not shaken with weeping, but cool and self-possessed.”, and gives a considered speech to her audience. We now see a woman who is very much in control and is capable of manipulating Creon to allow her to stay another day in Corinth. It is after Creon departs that we see the turning point and the first signs of plotting in Medea, “Come! Lay your plan, Medea; scheme with all your skill.”  And it is after she has secured her future with Aegeus that we learn the full horror of her plots, “I will kill my sons.” At this stage we feel a marked change in our view of Medea. Gone is the pity we felt when she was scorned by her husband. Now we are seeing a woman who is prepared to take the lives of her own children to satisfy her need for revenge.

Though she rationalises the murder of her children as the only way to truly punish Jason, it is still not an act which comes easy to her. She is filled with doubt, “Women, my courage is all gone. Their young, bright faces – I can’t do it.” , but, on learning of the death of the princess and her father, her resolve is clear, “…come, take the sword; take it, and forward to your frontier of despair.”

If it is possible to come away with a view of Medea as anything other than a murderer, then it would be a hugely ambitious woman who would stop at nothing to satisfy her own selfish desires. The character we are left with at the end of the play is very far removed from the broken woman we met at the start. She has secured her own future with Aegeus yet by her own act ensured there would be no future for her own sons. In the same way she had previously ensured a future for herself and Jason which had involved the death of family members.

The development of Eliza Doolittle

George Bernard Shaw’s 1912 play Pygmalion draws its influence from Ovid’s story of the same name – the tale of a sculptor who creates an ivory statue of a woman, falls in love with her, convinces Venus to bring her to life and marries her.

But Shaw’s Eliza Doolittle is very unlike the lifeless statue of Ovid’s play. Though only in her late teens or early twenties, she is an independent woman – supporting herself with a job as a flower girl – in an era when women’s independence was a topical issue. The changes we will see in her are illustrated in the way she dresses, the way she speaks, the things she says, her poise and grace and finally her own view of herself.

While Eliza was a ‘new’ creation based on a much older tale, the audience of her time would be able to assimilate some sort of background for her since her social class is self evident. She is a female who finds herself unfamiliar territory. The play deals, broadly, with feminist issues.

When we are first introduced to Eliza we are not introduced by name. She is merely referred to as the flower girl. Indeed throughout much of act one all of the characters are referred to by description rather than name.

On first hearing Eliza speak, we are given indication of her social standing, “Nah then, Freddy: look wh’ y’ gowin, deah.”  Her occupation as a flower girl, working on the streets of Covent Garden during the evening, coupled with her broad cockney pronunciations clearly betrays her working class status. The second piece of dialogue from Eliza, “Ow, eez, ye-ooa san……ye-oo py me f’them?”  is so clearly unintelligible that Shaw makes an apology to the reader. It is interesting to note that despite her accent and pronunciation, Eliza is easily understood by the mother and daughter she addresses though they are well spoken themselves.

These encounters in act one are enough to give us the impression of Eliza as a common working girl with little education. However she is clearly no fool and is able to defend herself against veiled accusations of soliciting. Similarly, she can be polite when she thinks it will influence a sale as illustrated in her request to Colonel Pickering, “Buy a flower, kind gentleman. I’m short for my lodging.”

The first indication of Eliza’s strong will and determination to better herself comes in act two when she turns up at Professor Higgins’ house and demands to be taught how to speak properly.  Later in this act we see the first evidence of transformation in Eliza, at least with regard to her physical appearance. After having a bath she re-enters the action dressed in a Japanese kimono. This physical improvement alone is enough to surprise and amaze both Higgins and Pickering. In fact, the physical transformation is such that her own father fails to recognise her until she speaks.

The first real evidence, and real test, that Eliza has improved herself through Higgins’ teachings comes in act three which, for the first part, is set in the home of Mrs Higgins. Here Eliza manages to carry herself off well for the most part in the face of a broadly unsuspecting audience. There is noticeable improvement in her diction. For example she greets Mrs Higgins and the others perfectly well, “How do you do, Mrs Higgins?” However her choice of subject matter for small talk is not what would normally be expected and there is still evidence that she has merely taken some cockney phraseology and improved to pronunciation, “It never did him no harm what I could see. But then he never did keep it up regular.”

The real test for Eliza comes later in this act – and some good time later in her development – when she attends an embassy reception. Here she has to fool a former pupil of Higgins which she does successfully. Eliza has little to say in this scene beyond two conversations with Higgins and Pickering. The evidence of her transformation comes in the remarks made by other characters and the description of her greeting to the hostess, “With a beautiful gravity that awes her hostess”.

While in Higgins’ eyes Eliza’s transformation is complete at this stage, it clearly is not as far as she is concerned. Her ensuing arguments with Higgins, and words of gratitude to Pickering, tell us that Eliza is more acutely aware of her own position in society, the challenges she faces and the realisation that her development has more to do with Pickering’s involuntary teachings than elocution lessons. Shaw could easily have wrapped Pygmalion up with a fairy tale ending but chose instead to challenge us to think about what would happen to Eliza next. The uncertainty of her future perhaps reflecting the uncertainty that a woman of her standing would have faced in British society at that time.

The postscript to the play, written sometime later, gives us Eliza’s future as being married to Freddy and opening a flower shop. This is only one possible ending but does allude to the fact that Eliza, and Freddy for that matter, continue to change and develop and eventually enjoy some financial success with their business.

Wednesday 16 March 2011

The Death of Socrates by Jacques-Louis David

Jacques-Louis David was an artist who painted on the neo-classical style - taking sources from Roman and Greek art, literature and philosophies and using them as subjects to depict contemporary issues. He was active and popular before, during and after the French Revolution.

In The Death of Socrates he shows Socrates in his prison cell reaching out to accept the chalice of hemlock which will end his life. The painting is lit from the left and front though it is unclear where this light may be coming from since prison cells are, ordinarily, poorly lit.

Socrates himself is well lit and is the only figure dressed in white. In contrast the other figures are less well lit and are in the darker areas of the picture. This lighting effect gives Socrates a godlike quality, suggesting that though it is he who is about to die, his beliefs and principles will remain. Additionally, though Socrates is clearly an older man – thought to be around 70 when he died – he has the athletic and strong body of a younger man. This reinforces the vitality and the strength of his ideas. The open shackle on the floor, which presumably once held Socrates captive, again helps to reinforce the idea of Socrates personal freedom and the freedom which his ideas represent. An excellent use of symbolic imagery.

The vanishing point of the pictures lies just above the head of Plato who is seated at the foot of Socrates’ bed. While most of the other figures appear to be struck with grief over Socrates’ impending death, Plato’s posture implies a feeling of unhappy acceptance – his impotence unable to affect change – perhaps an acceptance that his great teacher is making the right decision to take his own life rather than flee.

The background to the picture is rather plain, much like The Oath of the Horatii and The Lictors Returning to Brutus the Bodies of his Sons, other neo-classical paintings by David completed within two years either side of The Death of Socrates. This serves to focus the viewer’s attention on the characters and reminds us that it is the action and qualities embodied in the figures that are the important thing here and not the setting.

The painting was completed in 1787, two years before the “start” of the Revolution. One message the painting portrays is martyrdom. Socrates was famously a martyr for his beliefs and was sentenced to death by the Athens government. David is supporting the principle that individuals should be able to speak out and act against a corrupt or oppressive government and that freedom was the ability to think and act for yourself. In this way he was clearly a supporter of revolutionary principles.

Rousseau’s states in his social contract

According to Rousseau’s philosophies there are two potential ‘states’ in which people can exist – a state of nature and a civil state. Perhaps the civil state breaks down into two further options – legitimate authority and illegitimate authority. But lets ignore that minor complexity for the moment.

In a state of nature there are no laws, rules or moral codes which control the actions or thoughts of individuals. It follows then that in a state of nature there can be no such thing as civil disobedience since it would be impossible to determine if this had occurred.

Rousseau proposes a civil state where all individuals would act in accordance with what he describes as the General Will. In answering the question, “can civil disobedience be legitimate?”, it is important to understand what Rousseau means by the general will, and, therefore, legitimate state. Rousseau argues that if any individual applies reason to any question, they will come up with the same answer as any other individual. However, that reason, at all times, must be geared towards providing the best solution for the state – and in doing so provide the best solution for each individual who makes up the state. It follows then that all people, when faced with the same question and applying the same reason, will reach the same conclusion – like a mathematical problem.

Civil disobedience does not necessarily relate to violent action against the state and could occur when an individual reached a conclusion which did not agree with the majority and was prepared to act against it, i.e. it was against the general will.

There are three instances when such civil disobedience can occur:

A - When a person reasons in accordance with the general will but reaches the “wrong” conclusion. If this was a genuine error then it could not be considered civil disobedience. It could be a result of misunderstanding, inability to reason or whatever but if the person genuinely wanted to conclude in accordance with the general will and was willing to accept their misjudgement then there is no disobedience.

B – Where a person reasons in accordance with the aims of the general will but reaches a conclusion which does not correspond with that of others. Further, the person truly believes they are right and followers of the general will are wrong.

C – Where a person has reasoned in accordance with their own particular will, i.e. to satisfy a personal need rather than the wider need of all the people.

According to Rousseau, people taking action as a result of both B and C would constitute civil disobedience. His solution in both instances would be not to tolerate this disobedience and to force people to agree with the general will.

I would agree with Rousseau in relation to civil disobedience fuelled by personal desire (example C). In these circumstances it is morally (and perhaps sometimes even legally) incorrect to implement decisions which have benefits for only a small proportion of the population and inherent detriment to the population in general. For example, conspiracy theorists would have us believe that the war in Iraq is promoted largely by US arms manufacturers and has little benefit for the indigenous populations of Iraq, America and other countries. While the situation is infinitely more complex, there is undoubtedly some truth in these theories and the interests of leading US political figures in arms and oil companies is well documented. However, Rousseau could quite easily argue that if all interested parties (individuals) had access to all of the facts, they may well reason that this is the general will. Sadly it’s a hard one to put to the test.

However, I would argue with Rousseau in his treatment of civil disobedience of the type outlined in example B. Rousseau proposes that the majority is always right. This is not correct. Majority views can easily be the product of misunderstanding, miscommunication, propaganda or whatever. Eighty years ago the majority of people didn’t link smoking with cancer, etc. The main point though is that Rousseau’s treatment of ‘dissidents’ is wholly at odds with his own position as a reformer. He is, until his ideas are widely accepted, the minority. He cannot give himself the right to challenge established and popularly held beliefs without also allowing others that luxury. It’s perhaps telling that no actual state has adopted the General Will as a guiding principle.

It is this latter point which exposes the biggest frailty in Rousseau’s philosophies – that he believes everyone should agree with him.

The importance of the games in Roman society?

From the number of paintings and drawings, sculptures, mosaics and other artefacts which have existed since the days of the Colosseum and have been produced since that period, it is reasonable to assume that the games formed a significant part of Roman life. Undoubtedly they had a major impact in those who were alive at the time, whether spectators, participants or critics, and with more than 150 Roman amphitheatres stretching across Europe and Northern Africa, there were opportunities for millions of people to see the games during centuries of Roman supremacy. Sadly, there were also many thousands killed through participation.

Equally, they have been an influence on art and artists through the ages and even to the modern day where popular film culture lets us imagine what it was like to be at the very centre of the games.

Whatever the Roman games mean to us today, they had a very different meaning to ancient Roman society and it is that meaning, or indeed those meanings, which I would like to discuss here. First of all though, it is important to remember that ancient Rome was not a classless society. It was more akin to 18th century Britain or modern day India in that there were layers of society determined principally by wealth or status. We should therefore consider the meaning of the games from the perspective of those who provided them and those who attended. Also we should consider the meaning of the word Games. Today we associate the word games with sport but this is not the case with Roman games. They served a wider social and political purpose so any comparison with what we regard as games today is invalid. Having said that, and in the absence of what we know as organised sporting events, the games would have been considered sport by many Romans and non-Romans.

At the very highest level of Roman society, the Emperor, the games were his “gift” to the people of Rome and were a means by which he could show his generosity. Much of the income derived by Rome was wealth captured from the taking of land and the overthrow of other peoples so perhaps the provision of free games for the people somehow balanced the enormous wealth enjoyed by emperors. However, it would be wrong to necessarily confuse this apparent generosity with philanthropy. Emperor Augustus for example cites in his Res Gestae Divi Augusti, “I gave three gladiatorial games in my own name and five in that of my sons or grandsons”. Hosting the games was therefore also a way for an emperor to be remembered for his generosity – and to reflect his grandeur and power.

The games would also provide an excellent opportunity for propaganda and for the emperor to engender public support for his position. Roman politics were renowned for their Machiavellian tendencies so any emperor would do well to find favour with the public. With such large crowds attending, this would be an opportunity for the emperor to increase his popularity and thus diminish the likelihood of any factions within the Roman senate attempting to overthrow him.

The games also provided opportunities for other noted public figures to show generosity. Though their shows would not be allowed to be as lavish as those of the emperor, they served the purpose of showing support for the emperor and perhaps secured a place in finer Roman society.

As far as the people of Rome were concerned the games were, on the surface, much like modern day sports events. There is more to it than watching people and animals being killed. There is the atmosphere of the amphitheatre, seeing the emperor and the characters in the arena – some of whom would have been famous gladiators – meeting with friends. We must remember that at that time in history there were no other major spectator enabled events (our equivalents, the modern Olympic Games and Football World Cup are products of the 20th century). As a result, the Games filled a much needed space in what could have been for some Romans an uninspiring social calendar.

It is hard for us today to understand what the attraction of these apparently bloodthirsty games would have been to ordinary people. We do not instinctively associate the people of Rome with violent behaviour. Though Rome was a conquering nation their legacy to the modern world reaches far wider than these seemingly brutal acts. To understand the motivation of the crowd, who by many accounts enjoyed the Games, it is helpful to refer to The story of Alypius by St Augustine. Here Alypius is taken to the Games by some friends under duress. He is expecting to be appalled by what he sees but instead is enthralled. This parable serves to illustrate how the madness of crowds can be such an influencing factor in the behaviour of ordinary citizens who attended the Games.

Beyond meeting the popularity needs of the emperor and the entertainment needs of the people, the Roman games served two other important social functions.

The first of these was to provide a means of disposing of prisoners who had been condemned to death. These prisoners may have been criminals, perhaps defeated enemies who did not acknowledge Rome’s superiority or Christians who posed a threat to the stability of Roman rule. Whatever their crime, the arena provided a public venue for their slaughter. However, in some instances they were given a chance to redeem themselves through bravery in battle (which could be among themselves or against savage animals). In such instances the crowd would participate in the determination of their fate. In this way the responsibility for killing prisoners of all types was one which was shared by all of Roman society.

The second function was to clear areas of land of dangerous animals so that it was fit for habitation. For example, it is recorded that at the hundred days’ festival a total of 9,000 animals were killed. The Romans believed that such wholesale slaughter of wild animals, some of species that posed no threat to human life, was a necessary exercise to create more usable land in the Empire.

Whatever our own personal view of the Games is today, it is sure to be one which would provoke reaction – whether horror at their brutality or fascination at the extent of the spectacle, or both. However it is evident from what we know of them that if they existed today, they would have an important place in our emotions. In the same way, they must have held an important place in the mind of all Romans and even though many contemporary writers were mildly scathing in their description of the events they remained, in some form, a feature of Roman life for some 500 years.

A brief analysis of the functionality of the Colosseum in Rome

Image: Jon Whiles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Did the Colosseum in Rome fulfil its function as a games arena? I think it did – here are a few reasons why

Location – it’s located in a broadly central position in the city making it accessible by large numbers of the population. It’s large and highly visible so it attracts attendance.

Size - it was significant in size, holding in the region of 50,000 spectators. This meant that the games could be enjoyed by many and the sheer size of the crowd, when full, would enhance the overall atmosphere.

Access - there were a total of 76 entrances around the Colosseum’s perimeter. These were numbered suggesting some kind of ticketing system may have been in operation. These numbered entrances would do much to control the crowds and avoid bottlenecks when large numbers were arriving or departing. The large number of stairways evenly spread across the structure provides access to its different levels. Those numerous points of access allowed people to move about freely.

Seating - the Colosseum provided seating for 45,000 spectators. This meant that the vast majority of spectators had at least some level of comfort to watch what could be a lengthy event in high temperatures. Seating is also a health and safety measure - we know from our own recent experience of disasters at football ground that fully-seated stadiums have less potential for crushing injuries in crowds. Additionally, seating was arranged to reflect status – and important issue in Imperial Rome.

Shape and structure - the Colossuem is oval in shape. All viewing positions face on to the arena which sits in the centre of the building. The weight of the building was supported by large piers and arches which were around the outside of the building and below the spectator areas. This meant that all spectators had an uninterrupted view of the arena; though those at the top of the structure were significantly further from the action than others.

Shade - Italy is a warm country and the lack of a permanent roof would mean that, at some times of the day, spectators would be exposed to the heat and glare of the sun. There is some evidence of supports for a temporary cover which would reduce this potential discomfort.

Facilities for spectators - similarly there is evidence that water was made available in the building through a series of pipes leading to fountains on the landings. This would mean that spectators would have access to refreshments if required.

Facilities for performers - there is a labyrinth of passages and rooms below the floor of the arena providing facilities for the management of prisoners and animals who formed and integral part of the event.

Meeting areas - since the Roman games were very much a social event, the Colosseum also provided cloistered areas on three levels where people could meet and talk, away from the noise of the games and glare of the sun.

Tuesday 1 March 2011

Silent Noon by Ralph Vaughan Williams

A very brief analysis of Silent Noon by Ralph Vaughan Williams

Silent Noon by Ralph Vaughan Williams is a musical interpretation of the sonnet of the same name by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The sonnet is reproduced below. It describes a quiet time spent by two lovers in a field in the countryside on a summer’s day.

The piece begins with a brief piano introduction. The piano is the only musical instrument used throughout. There are three beats to the bar though the composer uses syncopation (one and, two, and three) which creates a sense of movement - necessary in the earlier part of the piece (lines one to four of the sonnet) where a simple repeating chord pattern is used. Syncopation may also have been felt necessary by the composer to compensate for the fact that sonnets were spoken rather than sung pieces and therefore don’t have the rhyming structure that song lyrics would have.

The solo male voice dominates much of the piece while the timbre of the piano is at times distant as if it is being played somewhere farther away. It is the voice that carries the whole of the song using changes in pitch, tempo and dynamics to add variety and interest to what is in part a fairly repetitious tune.
There is a quite dramatic change to the piano melody at line five of the sonnet and lasting to around the end of line 11. This passage has a moderately livelier feel to it reflecting perhaps the movement of the kingcups, cow-parsley, hawthorn and dragon fly. This is in sharp contrast to the stillness experienced by the lovers as they lie together in the grass.


Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass, -
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky: -
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love

DG Rossetti

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part
A brief analysis of the sonnet by Michael Drayton

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part,
Nay, I have done: you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.

Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,

   Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
   From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.

Michael Drayton’s sonnet, “Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part”, follows the basic Shakespearian sonnet structure, consisting of fourteen lines of verse broken into an octave followed by a sestet.  The rhyme scheme is ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. It is written as iambic pentameter - ten syllables per line and five stresses on alternating syllables. The turn is clearly identifiable at the start of line nine by the use of the word “Now” and becomes more evident through the change in tone and speaker.

It’s possible that the octave is spoken by a man to the woman who he has loved on the termination of their relationship. Line one is fairly gentle suggesting that they could have been the actual words which he used. The use of caesura - the dash at the end of this line - causes the reader to pause as the remaining seven lines spiral towards vitriol and near bitterness. This tone here suggests that these lines may be his thoughts rather than his words to her. He has clearly found the relationship oppressive or unsatisfactory in some sense. The one incidence of enjambment occurs between lines seven and eight increasing the pace at the end of the octave and allowing the speaker to almost spit out his words.

The sestet is spoken by someone who is a friend of the man - who is now on his deathbed or gravely ill - and takes the form of a plea to the woman to come and see her former lover with the objective of reviving him. The sestet makes greater use of imagery, suggesting that “Love”, “Passion”, “Faith”, and “Innocence” have physical rather than emotional values. Caesura is used again at the beginning of line 13. The indentation coupled with the dash slows the reader down and let’s us imagine the friend speaking slowly and sincerely in in a final plea for reconciliation.

Wheatfields by Jacob Isaacksz van Ruisdael


A brief analysis of the painting Wheatfields by Jacob Isaacksz van Ruisdael, painted around 1670.
Wheatfields is a largish landscape depicting the final stage of a man’s journey home to be met by his wife and child. The title may at first reading seem to be somewhat of a misnomer since more than half of the picture area is represented by the sky and the subject matter appears to be the reuniting of a family. However the title does reflect the setting and is given prominence by the brightness of the fields themselves.

The artist’s viewpoint is mildly elevated, causing him to look down on the foreground and giving the impression of being slightly above the characters on the roadway – though sharing the same path.

The painting is lit by the evening sun from the artist’s left and is set in early autumn when crops are fully grown and the leaves on the trees are turning brown.

The vanishing point lies around the gap in the wall and can be determined by following the lines of the roads, the edges of the wheatfield on the left and the coastline on the left. The right hand area gives fewer clues to the vanishing point.

Beyond the golden yellow of the field, the colour range is fairly narrow; the foreground consisting mainly of brownish greens and the top two thirds limited to blue, white and shades of grey.

Tonal range is wider. There is lightness in the sky and the fields, and the viewer’s eye is drawn to the lightness of the path separating the man and his family and the building partly obscured by the trees – showing us his route and ultimate destination. Other areas of the painting are relatively dark though not sufficient to obscure their detail.

In terms of effect, the painting suggests a homecoming. Though we cannot see the faces of the woman and child we must assume they are pleased to see the returning man since they have troubled themselves to come to meet him. He doesn’t appear to be wearing a worker’s clothing and is carrying a large parcel, suggesting that he may have been away for some time.