The London Lounge

The question at hand is how we perceive the magnetism of other beings and things. Some will maintain that presence can be seen on the surface of things. And it occurs to me to say that magnetism is neither visible on the surface nor visible at all. We perceive Style in a completely different way, we feel it.

Have you ever been in a dark room or place and felt the presence of another being there with you? Try to recall the feeling of that moment now.

Do you have a memory of a great "live" performance by an artist that has left an impression on you? A live performance is almost always more powerful than a recorded one. And why is this? Often times we do not see or hear the performer better than when the same artist is recorded. In fact, most times we do not see or hear the artist nearly as well. But in the live performance, we feel the presence and magnetism of the performance in a way that a film or CD cannot rival.

I have every recording of Arthur Rubinstein in my collection. But my most stark memories are his live performances. And the most powerful memory is that of his last concert in Paris. Those moments are not engraved on disk, they are engraved inside me. I could never properly describe the intensity inside the concert hall that night. There was an electric current in the air and we were all connected to it. That is magnetism.

Philippe Noiret was a great film actor. But the most vivid memory I have of him besides speaking with him often was seeing him recite the poetry of Victor Hugo at a small theatre in Montmartre a few months before his death. His magnetism literally shook the room. You could cut it with a chain saw. It was almost impossible not to feel it and be alive. But you could not see it. You could see Noiret. But you could not see it. You could hear his reedy voice. But you could not hear it. You felt it through the pores of your skin and directly into the soul.

As an exercise, try to feel the presence of people, things or objects just as though you were alone with them in a dark room. Try to remember people from your past that had a profound effect on you. Close your eyes and recreate them in your mind by seeking the feeling you had in their presence. Let the sounds or smells that may be associated with these feelings come to the fore, relive them from the inside out. Let your defenses down. Become a live sensor for Style. Feeling it, let it take you down its path. Do not hesitate,follow where it leads.

If, on the other hand, you persist in looking for the magnetism of Style in the appearance of things, in clothes, fashion, notches or lapels your research will not bear fruit.

Cheers

When you keep looking for particles, you risk missing the wave. Particles collide, but waves flow...

Costi wrote:When you keep looking for particles, you risk missing the wave. Particles collide, but waves flow...

Electron microscopes tell us that particles can also flow as waves....

Nicholas, all this science makes us too serious
Of course, it's about the wave-particle duality. But it's the wave part that is more interesting in the context.
In my understanding of Heisenberg, as soon as you want to measure the position (of the particle), you disturb momentum, the wave. Things simply change behaviour when you look at them curiously. It's like entering a room where everyone walks around and chats, only to realize they all drop dead and silent when you come in. It makes you wonder what they were talking about!
What do you suppose particles are talking about, that we are not supposed to hear while also being able to grab them by the collar?

And don't you think this uncertainty principle also applies to human magnetism? We know it's there, because we feel it, but when we turn on the lights and look for it with the magnifying glass, we see nothing.

Yes, I think that the test: 'can you tell that there's someone there, even in the dark?' is is most telling. One is also aware of varying degrees of aura or magnetism when sitting in seats on trains and 'planes and the ability to sense it can be developed by practice, as a form of 'people-watching'. I think that this is not particularly surprising because we are full of electricity and it is well known that people who are attracted to each other can give off static charges and even make perceptible sparks. The more vital and charged the person, the greater the the effect on others. I also think that a residual part of our feral heritage allows us to sense when we are being closely observed by someone, even from the back. Moreover, instant likes and dislikes between people are often described in terms of 'chemistry', and are not explicable solely by any single sense alone but by a combination of them, as well as intuition - which is not 'supernatural' as nothing that exists can be 'supernatural' - it must be natural, even if not wholly understood, except in effect. We don't instantly dislike very thin or very fat people and compassion borne of civilization causes us to react favourably to physical deformity. Therefore, I think that our sensibilities are a mixture of natural, animal responses over which is laid the palimpsest of our civilization and our human compassion.

I recall the 'biopic' film The Elephant Man, about a dreadfully deformed man, Joseph Merrick, who was saved from exploitation as an exhibit in a circus by Frederick Treves and housed at the London Hospital. Queen Alexandra (one of England's very fairest Queens, of whom there is a marvellous statue in the courtyard at the hospital), visited him and befriended him and I recall the moment in the film, at which this poor fellow was overcome by her presence, her beauty and the demonstration of her unflinching compassion as soon as she met him; her ability immediately and instinctively to see right past his broken and twisted surface.