What is In the "Eye of the Beholder?"

A couple of evenings ago, I spent a few hours watching a totally enchanting movie about a world famous, classical string quartet based in New York City, The Late Quartet. Each of the four members of the quartet, as well as their offspring and mates, are students and/or instructors at the famous Julliard School, a world class art school. This 2012 film was a joy to watch as it highlighted four familiar film professionals, led by Christopher Walken, in roles that let them show off their dramatic skills and talents, to an extent not often required in more commercial and less demanding films. I was quite taken by the depth, sensitivity and delicacy with which this cast and its director portrayed how a very successful musical institution, with a quarter century of history, had to deal with a cathartic and nearly catastrophic set of circumstances wrought upon it.

One thing that really impressed me about this movie, is how the director was able to maintain a certain “air,” a feel that was pervasive throughout the film, from start to finish. This air or feel was the calmness and professionalism that always seems to pervade anything connected with Julliard. I encountered this feel in the late 1960s through the early 70s. The art culture on the east coast of the United States is a very old, a very established and a very distinctive, conservative culture. It is substantial; it is well regarded and well respected. This culture, itself, is very confident and calm. Even when there are personal squalls flaring up within the culture, they are handled in a relatively calm and professional manner; the emotional elements are subdued and controlled. The movie is true to this tradition.

I watched this new, favorite flick on my computer, using Netflix. I watched an hour’s worth on Sunday night and then finished it up in another hour on Monday evening. In-between, over morning tea, David Middlebrook, the art hero who just returned from the Venice Biennale (the world’s biggest and most prestigious art show) joined me. We entered into a rather involved conversation comparing the nuances of Bob Dylan’s work as compared with that of Leo Tolstoy. David, me and most of my artist friends are not much of the east coast, Julliard discipline. I think I would have to say that our common stomping grounds were more like San Jose State College in the 1960-70s and the Fillmore Auditorium up in the City (San Francisco) during that same era. We never really enjoyed the wealthy, established patronage that the Julliard people were accustomed to. Now that I think about it, because of that patronage, they could be calm and confident. We were more of a scrappy bunch. Well, at least I was. David, like a number of other of my contemporaries, chose to teach art in the local colleges and universities while the likes of me preferred going cold turkey, so to speak, totally refusing to rely on any institution for financial support. We extremists wanted to make our living from our art, the sweat of our brows and our broad shoulders, . . . , so to speak.

(to read conclusion, click here)