Taking Note: Art, Torpedos, and John Singer Sargent

Hundreds of art-lovers crowded last night into the Torpedo Factory on the waterfront in Alexandria, Virginia to hear a long-awaited talk by Richard Ormond, a Victorian painting specialist, art curator, former deputy director of the National Portrait Gallery in London, and expert and author of several books on John Singer Sargent, an acclaimed American 19th century artist.

Illustration: Watercolor and Platinum Carbon pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author

For two hours, the attendees sat on metal folding chairs arrayed on the concrete flooring and beneath the dim light, exposed pipes, and fire sprinklers of the Torpedo Factory’s art gallery atrium.  Due to the narrowness of the hall, more than half the audience relied on a second  projection screen set up mid-way in the atrium.  Others were perched on seats on a narrow overhead bridge connecting the two sides of the gallery.  Some were dressed up as if attending an event at the Kennedy Center, apparently happily oblivious to the warehouse-like surroundings.  There was a buzz of excitement inside but outside still more hopeful attendees unfortunately were being turned away at the door.  (This free event was solidly booked and “sold out” by late summer, if I remember correctly.)  This was the event to be at at the bottom of King Street last night!

Amid the torpedo relics still on display in this popular art gallery and school (once an actual torpedo factory, as its name suggests), Ormond presented a lecture that reviewed Sargent’s life and works chronologically.

Illustration: Photo of new book on John Singer Sargent with introduction by Richard Ormond

A grand-nephew himself of John Singer Sargent–whose sister, Violet, was Ormond’s grandmother–Ormond weaved personal details and black-and-white photos from his childhood into his talk.  Images of Ormond and his brothers as young children flashed up on the screen briefly, for instance, sitting on a wall in Switzerland on what he described their first outing away from London so recently under siege in World War II.  Sitting in an old torpedo factory which was the site of feverish activity at that exact time and listening to this gentle art expert was a study in contrasts in itself.

For anyone reasonably well-read on Sargent’s story, it is unlikely there was anything really new or riveting in this talk.  Indeed, in the short Q&A session which followed, the apparently previously submitted questions were those meant for an expert curator such as Ormond and even concerned future exhibition plans of the letters and works of another artist.  These were the questions of specialists for a specialist.  But, a day later, there were a few points Ormond made that linger in the mind:

• He noted that Sargent maintained an “active dialogue” (through perceptive observation, not speaking) with his sitters, so that his portraits conveyed the liveliness, the powerful personalities, and even the “tigress”, in one case, that was in his models.  Sargent’s analysis was not one of passive disengagement and objectivity. He was capturing, and captive of, the essence of his models–a very subjective approach to interpreting reality.
• Ormond also noted that Sargent considered “public art,” such as the murals he trained himself to paint, the highest form of art (as opposed to art held in private collections).  This is one reason he resisted selling his watercolors.
• Ormond also displayed a photo of the artist’s oil painting of “Gassed” from 1919 showing British soldiers blinded from the use by the enemy of mustard gas in World War I.
  

  Illustration: Image from Wikipedia

Perhaps the biggest take-away of the event was the appearance and bearing of the speaker himself, someone who has devoted a half a century to the study and promotion primarily of John Singer Sargent, and whose familiarity with exhibits and the world of museums and archives is therefore likely second to none.  A second takeaway was the makeup of the audience, generally older afficionados of this art community, many of them past and current students in the Art League School.  It was, in this sense, a powerful community event combining both appreciation of a great artist’s powers of observation and appreciation of beauty at a time when our sensibilities and priorities globally sometimes seem dulled to both.

Sense-making in a “Shapeless” World

It’s been said that we’re living in a “shapeless” world. What is meant by this is that our understandings about the geopolitical shape of our world has become fuzzy, hazy, or contradictory.  People, whether formally recognized as decision-makers or not, must make decisions. Some are becoming aware of having to work harder to make make sense of things.  They might wonder if they have the necessary tools to do so.  Often, however, people (especially experts) would not want to admit such uncertainty.

Illustration: Watercolor and Platinum Carbon pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author on Arches 140 lb. Cold Press paper (October 2015)

There is a deeply-held belief in modern life that knowing things and eliminating uncertainty gives us more power and security, and that anyone who exhibits uncertainty and/or reflectiveness is therefore weak and indecisive.  (This is related, as well, to being perceived as  “doer”–a “climber”, a “mover” and a “shaker.”)  Deeply ingrained concepts of success are tied to our perceptions of others as confident, bold, and expert.   Certainly, we know, the stock market does not like uncertainty, and that’s because it’s made up of people having to make decisions. People do not like uncertainty and, for some potential setbacks, go so far as to buy insurance to protect themselves so as to better manage risk.

Up to now at least, accumulating facts, expertise, and scientific knowledge–and mastering the material world–seemed to suffice for decision-makers.  So, what’s changed today?  Cannot the facts of any matter provide us the answers we need to steer a safe course through choppy waters?

Of course, it is debatable what shape the world was in when it had more shape in our minds: the “Cold War” comes to mind. It gave shape to things, but perhaps not a shape most of us, at least those with any appreciation of history, would care to repeat. There also was the shape of the 1990s when it seemed to many that technological advances and globalization would inevitably lift all boats.  The Financial Crash of 2008 upended many experts’ basic beliefs about the essential shape of the world, and many experts today acknowledge that nothing yet has taken the place of the old certainties now pretty much ripped to shreds.

Into this incoherence comes a new book that may help us to self-diagnose, at least. Our yearning for “shape” is the focus of this book by Jamie Holmes, a “Future Tense Fellow”, at the New America Foundation, Nonsense: The Power of Not Knowing, (Crown Publishers, New York, 2015).  Drawing from many interviews and lively case studies, Holmes looks at how we make sense of the world. He studies the neurological wiring that makes us calm or agitated in varying states of certainty or uncertainty.  He finds that uncertainty is an “emotional amplifier”:  “it makes anxiety more agonizing, and pleasure especially enjoyable.”  Holmes examines how the world of medicine has changed in a data-abundant world, for instance.  And he delves deeply into  how our sense-making minds naturally work to solve the puzzles of every day existence.  So, what has changed that makes the world seem shapeless, at least to some, today?

The paradox of modern existence, according to Holmes, is that “technological acceleration–in transportation, communication, and production–should provide more free time” but, in fact, most of us feel “continually squeezed” by overwhelming options and limited time to assimilate and evaluate information,” he writes.

Indeed, abundant information has created more uncertainty!  So much information “makes even the simplest decisions–where to eat, which health plan to sign up for, which coffee maker to buy–more fraught.”

Avoiding this reality or denying it would be of little use, Holmes writes.  “Managing uncertainty is fast becoming an essential skill.”  In his prologue, he cites economist Noreen Hertz’s argument that “one of today’s fundamental challenges is “disorder–a combination of the breakdown of old, established orders and the extremely unpredictable nature of our age.””

In his book, Holmes demonstrates that “being able to handle ambiguity and uncertainty isn’t a function of intelligence.”  (Interesting too that being a “superforecaster” also is not a function of intelligence (see previous post).  But it is an emotional challenge.  This is because individuals have varying needs for “closure,” a concept developed by psychologist, Arie Kruglanski, Holmes writes.  People who understand this concept, even merely intuitively, actually can manipulate others’ discomfort with ambiguity.  “When our need for closure is high, we tend to revert to stereotypes, jump to conclusions, and deny contradictions.”  This is the stuff of radical and dangerous shifts in popular attitudes over the course of history; it merits our deeper understanding.

What’s important in this work is Holmes’ seemingly original and certainly unusually accessible treatment of the importance of contextual circumstances in changing individuals’ need for closure.  This trait is not as hard-wired as many of us might assume.

Learning how to deal with what we don’t understand is a critical skill becoming more necessary for all of us in this “shapeless” and still fairly new century, according to this author.  It turns out that uncertainty and contradictions provide the environment for people to unleash their creativity.  Making sense of a shapeless world requires imagination and other cognitive skills which most people have but may not have had occasion to exercise as much as they would have liked.

Speaking of which: due to an abundance of choices, and must-do’s, today, this subject will be continued at a later date here on this blog, of that I am fairly certain.  Understanding what our options are for making sense of complexity is a subject that deserves our undivided attention.  Having read this book, I am confident that it does too.  So, to be continued…

Reflections

Illustration: Watercolor and Micron pen sketch by Black Elephant Blog author

Spectacular weather continues in this region making it a joyous time to be outdoors. Such is the beauty of the season that you do not need to go far away to enjoy it; this little lake is practically in my backyard.  As usual,  however, a natural scene can scarcely be captured by experts, let alone this relative novice, with paint and brush.

It was a dry rehearsal (albeit reliant on water) of sorts for a couple of outdoor group painting sessions this weekend. Would I remember all my “kit” with spare water, paper towels, and pencils?  Planning ahead well is part of the secret to this endeavor, I’ve learned.  Well, in this case, the pencils were completely missing: a whole bag of everything imaginable but not a pen or pencil in sight. Having gone to the trouble of setting up my stuff, I proceed here without the security of a sketch in pencil first.  Very few people went by, so there was no need to be worried about going totally awry.  About an hour later, I had this watercolor sketch (putting in a few accents with a Micron pen later).

Next up on this blog, some reactions to a new book about “super forecasters” and dragonfly eyes, and the varying abilities of experts and non-experts to anticipate future events.  It turns out that our abilities to “see” and “sense” play a big role–and dragonflies are uniquely adapted to carry out certain “sense-making” activities.

Surprising Creatures

It wasn’t until I read Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s book, The Black Swan, that my naturalist sensibilities became attuned to proliferating species of surprise. They are everywhere! As the years tick by, I have come to think that understanding the origins of surprise are fundamental to solving the greatest challenges of our times–including those so-called “black elephants!” (This is the main reason I am devoting a whole blog to the subject.)

How we learn, create, and share knowledge…how innovations occur…what role collaboration and teamwork play in fomenting breakthrough thinking…how the subconscious mind works with our conscious selves…how sparks of serendipity ignite new possibilities… All such themes and more belong in an examination of the “black elephants” of our times. But why am I talking about black elephants when I started with “black swans?” Clearly our taxonomy for surprising creatures needs attention. So let’s get started!

Before all these metaphors entered our lexicon, most of us were familiar with the thought cloud images from cartoons, showing a bright lightbulb over someone’s head! The lightbulb signified a new idea!!! Archimedes in the bathtub shouting “Eureka”…that’s another visual image of surprise.

Image: Google Images

But in recent years, particularly since the Financial Crisis of 2008, we’ve seen a stampede of elephants and hippos, flights of swans and hummingbirds, and pots of boiling frogs cross our fields of vision. What in the world is going on? Are we more prone to be surprised these days? Surprising creatures are helping us to make sense of these developments: let’s begin with the “black swan.”

The Black Swan…

Unless you live in Australia, black swans are rare and, according to Taleb, in most of the world–before the discovery of Australia–the absence of black swans led to an unexamined assumption that all swans are white. Such unexamined assumptions are typical to all of us: having a cognitive framework, or mental map of how the world works, enables us to function. The downside (one of many) to how we go about making sense of things normally is that our knowledge is limited by what we have observed or experienced. The size of our ‘sample set’–or real-world experiences–influences our concepts of reality and possibilities for the future.

Taleb tells us that his metaphor for a “black swan” event comprises three attributes:

• It is an “outlier” in the sense that it “lies outside the realm of regular expectations.” Nothing in our experience has prepared us for this possibility.
• It carries an extreme impact.
• It was “predictable” but only in hindsight! (Taleb says, our human nature persuades us, after experiencing an outlying event with an extreme impact, that it was predictable.)

In Taleb’s view, the way our human brain is wired makes what we don’t know more important than what we do know:

“Black Swans can be caused and exacerbated by their being unexpected,” he writes.

Our concept of what is “normal” tends to rule out outliers and uncertainty.  But, more and more, what we’re learning, from the “law of large numbers” and other principles of improbability, is that what seems normal often is not!  So, how do we manage in a world of surprising creatures like the black swan? It turns out that rare events are behind most breakthroughs in human history…so understanding how we get locked into assumptions, and when we need to unlock our assumptions, seems critically important not only to business success but perhaps survival in all its meanings.

Coming up: I’ll look at what Steven Johnson, the author of so many great books on where good ideas come from, says about the “hummingbird effect” in his new book, How We Got To Now. Why does it matter to know how we got to now?