Search Results (5)

A visual stimulus that is divided in harmonic proportions is often judged as more pleasant than others. This is well known by artists that often used two main types of geometric harmonic patterns: symmetry and the golden ratio. Symmetry refers to the property of an object to have two similar halves, whereas the golden ratio consists of dividing an object in a major and a minor part so that their proportion is the same as that between the whole object and its major part. Here we investigated looking behaviour and explicit preferences for different regularities including symmetry and golden ratio. We selected four Mark Rothko’s paintings, a famous abstract expressionism artist, characterized by two main areas depicted by different colours: one symmetric (ratio between areas: 50–50%), one in golden ratio (38–62%), one in an intermediate ratio (46–54%), and one in a ratio exceeding the golden ratio (32–68%). Thirty-six healthy participants (24.75 ± 3.71 years old) completed three tasks: observation task (OT), pleasantness task (PT), and harmony task (HT). Findings for explicit ratings of pleasantness and harmony were very similar and were not significantly correlated with patterns of looking behaviour. Eye Dwell Time mainly depended on stimuli orientation (p < 0.001), but for the harmony task also by ratio and their interaction. Our results showed that the visual scanning behaviour of abstract arts primarily depends on the orientation of internal components, whereas their proportion is more important for the pleasantness and harmony explicit judgments. Full article

Despite the atheism of renowned abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko, the artist was commissioned by Christians to create a sacred space that was originally intended to be used by religious believers: the Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas. The project started out as a collaboration between Rothko and another atheist: famed architect Phillip Johnson, who designed several prominent religious spaces throughout his distinguished career. While Johnson removed himself from the Chapel project early on, Rothko would have carried his conceptual vision all the way to the end if it were not for his tragic suicide just prior to the Chapel’s completion. Using as a guide the criteria for sacred space set forth in the classic work The Sacred and The Profane by famed historian Mircea Eliade, I will consider the question of how a religious space designed by non-believers can be rightly considered sacred, as well as ways in which it falls short. Full article

Images or paintings with homogeneous colors may appear dull to the naked eye; however, there may be numerous details in the image that are expressed through subtle changes in color. This manuscript introduces a novel approach that can uncover these concealed details via a transformation that increases the distance between adjacent pixels, ultimately leading to a newly modified version of the input image. We chose the artworks of Mark Rothko—famous for their simplicity and limited color palette—as a case study. Our approach offers a different perspective, leading to the discovery of either accidental or deliberate clusters of colors. Our method is based on the quaternion ring, wherein a suitable multiplication can be used to boost the color difference between neighboring pixels, thereby unveiling new details in the image. The quality of the transformation between the original image and the resultant versions can be measured by the ratio between the number of connected components in the original image (m) and the number of connected components in the output versions (n), which usually satisfies $\frac{n}{m}\gg 1$. Although this procedure has been employed as a case study for artworks, it can be applied to any type of image with a similar simplicity and limited color palette. Full article

The quality of digital poetry or art—not merely as contained within our aesthetic reaction to digitally expressive works but as well our intellectual grounding in them—suggests that the digital’s seemingly ephemeral character is an indication of its lack of an apparently material existence. While, aesthetically, the digital’s ephemerality lies in the very fact of the digitally artistic enterprise, the fact is that its material substrate is what makes the aesthetic pleasure we take in it possible. When we realize for ourselves the role played by this substrate, furthermore, a paradox looms up before us. The fact is that we both enjoy, and in some sense separately understand the artwork comprehensively and fully; we also allow ourselves to enter into an ongoing conversation about the nature of the physical world. This conversation is not insignificant for the world of art especially, inasmuch as art depends upon the actual materials of the world—even digital art—and, too, upon our physical engagement with the art. Digital poetry and art, whose dynamic demands the dissolution of the line that would otherwise distinguish one from the other, have brought the notion of embodiment to the fore of our considerations of them, and here is the charm, along with the paradoxical strength, of digital art and poetry: it is our physical participation in them that makes them fully come into being. Full article

At an annual American Academy of Religion conference thirty years ago, Robert Scharlemann presented a paper in which he compared and contrasted Barth and Tillich with reference to how they named God in their respective theologies. He suggested that the former labeled God the “no to nothing,” while the latter symbolized God as the “nothing to know”—appellations out of which he formed his presentation title “The No to Nothing and the Nothing to Know: Barth and Tillich and the Possibility of Theological Science.” I have purloined Scharlemann’s title for my own essay, with the intent not only to maintain its theological implications but also to use it as a rubric for prosecuting the putative relationships that obtain among anticipation, nihilism, transcendence, mystery, and eschatology. If there are various species of transcendence, and if one can use and not merely mention the word “mystery” in some constative manner, then how may one speak of the actuality and potentiality of meaning? Is there a futurity to existential significance that empowers a life-affirming hope, which, in turn, embraces the inescapability of the “nothing” without plunging, or leaping, into the abyss of nihilism—the “no to nothing?” Alternatively, may one genuinely anticipate eschatological aspirations while remaining open to the enigma of the unprogrammable aleatoric “to come”—the “nothing to know?” Furthermore, how might one name “God” under either of these circumstances, even were one not to hold to any type of confessional theological ontology? Using John Caputo’s radical theology of the insistence of “God” as my Virgil (or Beatrice, which ever applies!) to guide us through the various paths one might take towards a genuine hope, I propose to investigate the plurivocity of discourses on meaning by inter-relating Caputo’s “nihilism of grace” with several supplementary works, including Ray Hart’s God Being Nothing, Amie Thomasson’s Fiction and Metaphysics, Stuart Kaufmann’s Humanity in a Creative Universe, Catherine Keller’s Cloud of the Impossible, and Richard Kearney’s Anatheism. Additionally, I will also consult aesthetic vocabularies that address the issue, specifically the poetry of Robert Browning, Dan Fogelberg, and Wallace Stevens, along with the Abstract Expressionist work of Mark Rothko. I will conclude the essay by suggesting that although one may expound on the desire for existential meaning through diverse discourses, if there is genuinely any realization of that meaning, it will occur regardless of how it is articulated. That is to say, the creative and transformative function of any transcendent meaning may work ex opere operato in a manner similar to Shakespeare’s rose that does not depend on one exclusive naming. Full article