Appreciation

[A. G. Maisey]

Paul Bloom, a professor of psychology from Yale has written a book titled:- "How Pleasure Works".

http://www.amazon.com/How-Pleasure-W.../dp/0393066320

I have not read it, but I recently read a review of it, and extracts from it. These were sufficient to cause my thoughts to turn towards the ways in which we appreciate keris, and keris art. Bloom has addressed the subject of how and why humans value and enjoy things. It would seem that the oft proffered advice of "buy the keris, not the story" is in fact completely contrary to the way in which we do experience, enjoy, appraise and put a dollar value on all forms of art, and this includes keris.

I think many of us would have heard the story of the great violinist, Joshua Bell, who took $32 from busking in a subway, but for whom people will pay hundreds of dollars to hear perform in a concert hall.

We could argue that the concert goers are paying their hundreds of dollars for a total experience --- the atmosphere, the chance to rub shoulders with important people, the opportunity to be seen, photographed, and appear in the society pages. Maybe. But the violinist is the same --- subway : concert stage. Same man, same music. But unappreciated because of place.

People pay huge amounts of money for Princess Diana's old clothes. Find similar in a Salvation Army Store and you'll pay $4.50

Ditto for George Clooneys sweaters.

Han van Meegeren was a brilliant forger of great art works, especially of Vermeer. In fact van Meegeren's "Supper at Emmaus" was lauded by critics as "Vermeer's" finest work. Of course they didn't know it was painted by van Meegeren.

Vermeer's painting "The Woman Taken in Adultery" apparently caused people to have life changing experiences when they viewed it --- until such time as they found out it was painted by van Meegeren not by Vermeer.

We are urged to consider art works, and I suppose all collectables, in an objective way. Value the work for what it is, not for who made it, who owned it, or where it has come from, but do we?

It seems not, more, it seems that it is not possible for us to divorce the object from the idea of who made it, who has owned it, and where it is from. The object is always accompanied by ideas that refer to the object, but are not part of it.

Indeed , it seems we are hard wired to always buy the story, and that story can be presented in a number of ways, it need not necessarily be the crude deceptions of a shonky dealer.

If we consider the subject that concerns us most here, the keris, I believe we would all agree that a keris by Mpu Jayasukadgo is infinitely more desirable than a keris by one of the current era makers.

However, viewed in a totally objective way, that Jayasukadgo keris may be no better than one turned out by a current era maker. We have given the Jayasukadgo a greater level of desirability, and hence value, simply because it is attributed to him --- and note this:- it is only an attribution, not a certainty, still it can make an enormous difference in value, and in our perceived appreciation.

In other words we've bought the story.

If all this is so, and Paul Bloom appears to have demonstrated that it is so, then this raises a question:-

Exactly what is it that we appreciate, enjoy, and pay good money for when we indulge ourselves in our interest and add another keris to the collection?

Are we paying for the keris, appreciating the keris, or are we feeding something in our sub-conscious that helps us to escape from the mundane?

A long time ago I coined a phrase:- "The Silk Road Syndrome" .

I intended it to refer to that nostalgic longing that many of us have for 'far away places with strange sounding names'. The empty spaces. The sunlit beaches. The smell of incense in the still evening air. A temple gong whispering through a purple twilight.

Thoughts and half memories that play unbidden in the back of our minds and help us get through another trial balance, another oil change, another brick in the wall --- depending upon how we support ourselves.

It occurs to me that when we add that extra keris --- or whatever --- to the collection, what we are really doing is contributing to our life support system. Putting something in place that helps us to open a window to a world a little less mundane than the one we live in, and in turn help us to keep focused on the need to plod on with burden of job, family, career.

The object of our collecting becomes a key that opens that window.



I would welcome the thoughts of others on the link between the appreciation of art and objects and the maintenance of sanity in a world that is rapidly decreasing in size at the same time that it is equally rapidly increasing in ordinariness.