This is your constantly restated position! The surface (or the material sphere) is the only place that we can possibly perceive it but to maintain (as I think that you do) that, in some way, it originates there is something on which some of us just don't agree with you. Of course, you are as entitled as everyone else, to your view and to stand by it.Gruto wrote:The thing that many honorable members forget when they reduce style to a sort of internal force or a relation to oneself, is the surface. Style must have a surface, whatever that surface is a naked body or a bespoke three-piece English suit or just a face. True, there is an inertia, which we may call a signature, Style, personality etc., but speaking about that isolated from the surface is like reducing a locker to a key forgetting the keyhole Style becomes interesting when you see how it unfolds in the surface. It is indicative that we use examples of visuality, when we are to explain style. We simply cannot take it away from the surface.
A more precise definition of "style" and "elegance"
Sometimes, sometimes, the habit does make the monk. I´m sure you all have seen it happen.NJS wrote: The surface (or the material sphere) is the only place that we can possibly perceive it but to maintain (as I think that you do) that, in some way, it originates there is something on which some of us just don't agree with you.
This does not mean that the habit will substitute for the substance that ultimately gives meaning to the appearance, but at least something must be originating at the surface level which provokes a change in the substance.
Yes but you are concentrating on clothes and wearing them. I dare to say that being a monk (under any main religion which has them), is a tremendously difficult thing to achieve; in having to subdue, if not to kill: appetites, passion and desire; embrace poverty and chastity. I suggest that Style is much broader than putting on a habit or even putting on the Ritz - and not all people with Style are necessarily great dressers (Albert Einstein; John Betjeman; Freya Stark and many other examples show this); moreover, someone like Rita Hayworth could have worn old sacking and still have stopped any room that she entered. Ines Sastre is a living example. Roald Dahl said that Ian Fleming brought 'a big red glow' into the room - and he wore his suits until they were threadbare.hectorm wrote:Sometimes, sometimes, the habit does make the monk. I´m sure you all have seen it happen.NJS wrote: The surface (or the material sphere) is the only place that we can possibly perceive it but to maintain (as I think that you do) that, in some way, it originates there is something on which some of us just don't agree with you.
This does not mean that the habit will substitute for the substance that ultimately gives meaning to the appearance, but at least something must be originating at the surface level which provokes a change in the substance.
Above all, a crabbed and ungenerous person, no matter how well suited and booted, is never going to have any Style worth counting.
These debates become a tug-o-war between two teams, with their heels well dug-in!
I am reminded of painters and photographers. You can tell (for example) a Dali or a Mapplethorpe immediately by looking at it - it is the style of the artist. All artists buy similar tubes of paint, but certain artists come up with creations which are instantly recognizable.
In the clothing sphere, George Melly had style. You would immediately know it was him, even from behind, accross a crowded bar, by the loud check suit and the wide brimmed hat. Style is not the same as good taste or elegance!
In the clothing sphere, George Melly had style. You would immediately know it was him, even from behind, accross a crowded bar, by the loud check suit and the wide brimmed hat. Style is not the same as good taste or elegance!
I would agree that an individual style may be distinctive rather than Elegant but I thought that we were using Style (capital S, as Quiller-Couch puts it in the above lecture ) and Elegance as synonyms.Berwick wrote:I am reminded of painters and photographers. You can tell (for example) a Dali or a Mapplethorpe immediately by looking at it - it is the style of the artist. All artists buy similar tubes of paint, but certain artists come up with creations which are instantly recognizable.
In the clothing sphere, George Melly had style. You would immediately know it was him, even from behind, accross a crowded bar, by the loud check suit and the wide brimmed hat. Style is not the same as good taste or elegance!
NJS wrote
I suppose my point is that, if we are trying to have more precise definitions, we will see that style and elegance are not synonyms. Elegance is a subset of style - one aspect - and one which ignores the individuality of a style. Stylish and elegant are closer in meaning, but again without being actual synonyms.I would agree that an individual style may be distinctive rather than Elegant but I thought that we were using Style (capital S, as Quiller-Couch puts it in the above lecture ) and Elegance as synonyms.
The paradox of Style is that focusing on the surface, where it manifests, does not lead to Style; does not explain it. It's like looking at a dim star in the night sky: if you stare at it, you lose sight of it; look away and you'll have a glimpse of it out of the corner of the eye - just enough to assure you it's there.
The surface takes care of itself. It is a mere consequence, like the magnetic field produced by an electric current. If you want magnetism, it's the strong inner current you need to work on creating and maintaining. Studying the magnetism doesn't teach you anything about the current.
Style is a juicy apple, not a rainbow-coloured soap bubble that has nothing behind the surface.
The surface takes care of itself. It is a mere consequence, like the magnetic field produced by an electric current. If you want magnetism, it's the strong inner current you need to work on creating and maintaining. Studying the magnetism doesn't teach you anything about the current.
Style is a juicy apple, not a rainbow-coloured soap bubble that has nothing behind the surface.
It might not explain it, but I believe that if you focused only on the surface of another man (his external manifestations, behavior, style, etc.) it would still tell you a lot about his Style or lack of it. Wouldn´t it?Costi wrote:The paradox of Style is that focusing on the surface, where it manifests, does not lead to Style; does not explain it.
Old Spanish proverb: The face is the mirror of the soul.
The paradox of Style that you state as such could be an aprioristic and defeatist position. If even just for the mere mental challenge, open up to the possibilities of explaining Style by the perceivable manifestations without second guessing. If you don´t let them fool you, it will be a healthy exercise.
Hectorm, yes, my phrasing was unclear. Of course we judge others by appearance (how else? - at least when we don't know them better). Nothing wrong with that.
What I meant (and failed to express clearly) was that if one wonders how Style can be developed in oneself, studying what others who are deemed to have Style show on the outside may be a false lead. And that is very probable to happen, particularly when young, because we are fascinated and seduced by what we see. And the path of least resistance is to borrow appearances. Strangely, we are more inclined to copy others than to discover ourselves - the latter is always a struggle. But understanding what we are and how we work, leaving aside what others do and focusing on ourselves, is the only way to develop any amount of Style in my opinion. That is not an autistic position, we still relate to the world (and even improve that relationship), but the world can't tell us what is inside of us. Style is personal not because we make it quirky, but because there is no Style until one is aware of oneself, of the inner workings, of what floats one's boat and what doesn't - of how we are made on the inside and on the outside. And that is eminently individual, which is why there is no "definition" of Style, the recipe is different for each of us. When it's there, the effects the same: fascination, seduction, charisma - you name it. But finding the way to that is very personal and looking over the fence at what the neighbor does is no help, it only drives one further from the inner focus needed to find one's Style. As you say, however, it can be fun to observe.
Bespoke clothes are actually a good metaphor of Style (though they are in no way Style itself). Wearing clothes that are too big or too small, or made in a cloth or fashion that we don't like, makes us feel "someone else", as if taking another person's appearance, or simply not "ourselves". Getting bespoke clothes made can be regarded as a physical symptom of this quest for oneself. The way they are made, the process (and the result) somehow makes us more aware of ourselves, of our unicity. On a deeper level, perhaps that is why we do it, whether we are aware of it or not - it is a manifestation of this longing for feeling whole and congruous, integrated. However, if we stop at the surface with clothes, we have gained little in the way of Style.
What I meant (and failed to express clearly) was that if one wonders how Style can be developed in oneself, studying what others who are deemed to have Style show on the outside may be a false lead. And that is very probable to happen, particularly when young, because we are fascinated and seduced by what we see. And the path of least resistance is to borrow appearances. Strangely, we are more inclined to copy others than to discover ourselves - the latter is always a struggle. But understanding what we are and how we work, leaving aside what others do and focusing on ourselves, is the only way to develop any amount of Style in my opinion. That is not an autistic position, we still relate to the world (and even improve that relationship), but the world can't tell us what is inside of us. Style is personal not because we make it quirky, but because there is no Style until one is aware of oneself, of the inner workings, of what floats one's boat and what doesn't - of how we are made on the inside and on the outside. And that is eminently individual, which is why there is no "definition" of Style, the recipe is different for each of us. When it's there, the effects the same: fascination, seduction, charisma - you name it. But finding the way to that is very personal and looking over the fence at what the neighbor does is no help, it only drives one further from the inner focus needed to find one's Style. As you say, however, it can be fun to observe.
Bespoke clothes are actually a good metaphor of Style (though they are in no way Style itself). Wearing clothes that are too big or too small, or made in a cloth or fashion that we don't like, makes us feel "someone else", as if taking another person's appearance, or simply not "ourselves". Getting bespoke clothes made can be regarded as a physical symptom of this quest for oneself. The way they are made, the process (and the result) somehow makes us more aware of ourselves, of our unicity. On a deeper level, perhaps that is why we do it, whether we are aware of it or not - it is a manifestation of this longing for feeling whole and congruous, integrated. However, if we stop at the surface with clothes, we have gained little in the way of Style.
When we have accepted the surface, next step is accepting that the surface has its own history. A three-piece suit has its own history indpendent of a specific person. The peculiar pattern of a glen check has a power of its own. "A tight fit", "drape", "vents", the rounded shape of a lapel, horn buttons, a way of walking, talking ... everything was there beforehand. There is a style already given by history, which we must use to create our own style. In that sense, our own style is a peculiar interpretation of what is already there, which in other words means that our style cannot be cut off from people and history around us. THAT is the paradox of style: It is in-dividual and an imitation.Costi wrote:Of course we judge others by appearance (how else? - at least when we don't know them better). Nothing wrong with that.
Bespoke clothes are actually a good metaphor of Style (though they are in no way Style itself). Wearing clothes that are too big or too small, or made in a cloth or fashion that we don't like, makes us feel "someone else", as if taking another person's appearance, or simply not "ourselves". Getting bespoke clothes made can be regarded as a physical symptom of this quest for oneself. The way they are made, the process (and the result) somehow makes us more aware of ourselves, of our unicity. On a deeper level, perhaps that is why we do it, whether we are aware of it or not - it is a manifestation of this longing for feeling whole and congruous, integrated. However, if we stop at the surface with clothes, we have gained little in the way of Style.
The occasional fleeting moments when we manage to feel this..is what fires us. We want to experience it again. In dress, it matters not who approves of what we are wearing, or who even sees it. It is an addictive joy to feel it. If we see another who has style, then we can vicariously feel it, as we sense that he is producing and feeling it. This is communicated to us not via what he is wearing it...but, through a complex cocktail of non verbal communication ( body language etc.).It's not what you wear on the surface..it's how you wear it so that it becomes one with your body language and is, in fact, a communication.it is a manifestation of this longing for feeling whole and congruous, integrated.
Hence the expression ''You wear it well''
I have heard many Writers say that they prefer to use a particular pencil, or colour of paper...and they then feel that their creativity flows better. I can identify with that, as I'm sure many of us can. But, do you think the creative genius of Joyce or Shakespeare would have been limited in expression to the historical invention of pen and paper, or PC?When we have accepted the surface, next step is accepting that the surface has a history of it's own. A three-piece suit has its own history independent of a specific person. The peculiar pattern of a glen check has a power of its own. "A tight fit", "drape", "vents", the rounded shape of a lapel, horn buttons, a way of walking, talking ... everything was there beforehand. There is a style already given by history, which we must use to create our own style. In that sense, our own style is a peculiar interpretation of what is already there, which in other words means that our style cannot be cut off from people and history around us. THAT is the paradox of style: It is in-dividual and an imitation.
Or, the variety of possible fonts and book bindings ( the availability limited to historical development). No. When we read we are tuning into the stream of Intelligent Effort flowing upwards ( towards the stars, not us)...from the Writer's
soul.
I will step a bit further saying that we cannot reduce pencil, paper, phones and other artifacts to mere instruments. All these small pieces around us influence to a lesser or greater extent how we think and act. Carrying a hammer will urge you to spot nails everywhere! Bespeaking a PoW three-piece suit will inevitable include interacting with a history of clothing that you have not made yourself. A genius of Shakespeare or Joyce could probably also create something great today but I wouldn't imagine them being Shakespeare and Joyce as we know them. The genius would be different.Rowly wrote:I have heard many Writers say that they prefer to use a particular pencil, or colour of paper...and they then feel that their creativity flows better. I can identify with that, as I'm sure many of us can. But, do you think the creative genius of Joyce or Shakespeare would have been limited in expression to the historical invention of pen and paper, or PC?
Or, the variety of possible fonts and book bindings ( the availability limited to historical development). No. When we read we are tuning into the stream of Intelligent Effort flowing upwards ( towards the stars, not us)...from the Writer's
soul.
During a 1978 interview, upon being asked "Was it worth it to Maria Callas? She was a lonely, unhappy, often difficult woman," music critic and Callas's friend John Ardoin replied:
''That is such a difficult question. There are times when certain people are blessed—and cursed—with an extraordinary gift, in which the gift is almost greater than the human being. Callas was one of these people. It was as if her own wishes, her life, her own happiness were all subservient to this incredible, incredible gift that she was given, this gift that reached out and taught us things about music that we knew very well, but showed us new things, things we never thought about, new possibilities. I think that is why singers admire her so. I think that’s why conductors admire her so. I know it’s why I admire her so. And she paid a tremendously difficult and expensive price for this career. I don’t think she always understood what she did or why she did it. She usually had a tremendous effect on audiences and on people. But it was not something she could always live with gracefully or happily. I once said to her “It must be a very enviable thing to be Maria Callas.” And she said, “No, it’s a very terrible thing to be Maria Callas, because it’s a question of trying to understand something you can never really understand.” She couldn’t really explain what she did. It was all done by instinct. It was something embedded deep within her.''
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4be7Xx5W4ik
''That is such a difficult question. There are times when certain people are blessed—and cursed—with an extraordinary gift, in which the gift is almost greater than the human being. Callas was one of these people. It was as if her own wishes, her life, her own happiness were all subservient to this incredible, incredible gift that she was given, this gift that reached out and taught us things about music that we knew very well, but showed us new things, things we never thought about, new possibilities. I think that is why singers admire her so. I think that’s why conductors admire her so. I know it’s why I admire her so. And she paid a tremendously difficult and expensive price for this career. I don’t think she always understood what she did or why she did it. She usually had a tremendous effect on audiences and on people. But it was not something she could always live with gracefully or happily. I once said to her “It must be a very enviable thing to be Maria Callas.” And she said, “No, it’s a very terrible thing to be Maria Callas, because it’s a question of trying to understand something you can never really understand.” She couldn’t really explain what she did. It was all done by instinct. It was something embedded deep within her.''
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4be7Xx5W4ik
To have seen Callas dispatching Scarpia must have been the most thrilling Opera experience of the Last Century. As soon as a suitable time machine has been invented my first ambition will be to be in that audience.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeRNp_yTr34
She was one of those troubled spirits who had greatness thrust upon her !
Apparently, Onassis couldn't understand why she wanted to perform, given that he had so much money. From the sublime to the ridiculously vulgar !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeRNp_yTr34
She was one of those troubled spirits who had greatness thrust upon her !
Apparently, Onassis couldn't understand why she wanted to perform, given that he had so much money. From the sublime to the ridiculously vulgar !
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