Eurocentrism in Art - Zeenat Javaid 12CMO

EUROCENTRISM IN ART

Zeenat Javaid 12CMO

When you think of classical art, the art that we go to museums for, the art that we learn about in school and what we’re told to admire, notice that much of it is of European origin. I’m going to preface this article by clarifying that by no means do I aim to undermine the importance of traditional and contemporary Western art, I simply want people to question the reason why they think it is so respectable (in comparison to historical art of other cultures, of course). There seems to be an open appreciation in many people for the life-like sculptures of greek and roman renaissance greats, the ‘David’ and the ‘Birth of Venus’ , seen as absolute masterpieces and the pinnacle of technical art, whereas ancient Japanese printmaking or the gorgeous calligraphy of the Islamic world are often overlooked as topics of interest when it comes to art.

I personally am guilty of this bias in various ways, growing up I would always yearn for my art to be as great as the Mona Lisa, or ‘the last supper’ but never cared much for Tinga Tinga paintings made by the artists in Uganda around me, I frankly didn’t think it was ‘real art’ . I think that this is because I was almost fed a narrative that respectable art lives in Museums, and the art of the real people wouldn’t be there, as well as the fact that I likely also just respected realism in art as an inexperienced artist.

However, I was never taught that African Tribal masks or Indonesian Batik was equally as important to the art world as stone sculpture was; oil painting consumed my early life as an artist and to this day, a small part of me still holds on to this idea that my ‘traditional’ Europe - centred skills, are of more importance than my other skills, I have had to personally pull myself out of this narrow focus to widen my own horizons. We must consider what we assign to the meaning of ‘skilled’ or ‘technical’ art in the first place, and why do we value it more than we value the work of carpet weavers from Iran;

Why is it that in academic art, we are taught the methods that focus mostly on one place in the world, who gets to decide that classical painting is a ‘important’ art and that weaving is not?

The issue is furthered by the fact that it is ingrained into schooling, even higher art education places a heavy focus on ‘technical’ or European historical, skills being a necessity in developing artists, with exploration of other styles coming as a sort of afterthought, or as many like to put it, ‘experimentation’ . Whilst schools will never limit their pupils to studying only the works of European masters, there is a massive underlying emphasis on their principles, passed through years and years of schooling, unbeknownst to the institutions themselves.

Now for the sake of argument, let’s say that the reason that schools teach the aforementioned principles is because European art was historically the most realistic and technical, and technical skills (as defined by European representational standards) are the foundation of great art; but what if I told you that the Ancient West african Yoruba Civilisation had been making astonishingly detailed and realistic works of art for centuries, their sculptures and busts dating back over 800 years. Or the extremely realistic portrait vessels of the Moche Culture of South America, which existed from

the first century, all the way up to the eighth century in the northern coasts of Peru, dated pieces from over 1,500 to 1,800 years ago.

Heavy exposure to mainly European art can create a belief that realistic, ‘technical’ art only existed in Europe-- it somewhat limits people’s understanding of history itself, I personally had no clue that realism had existed in art history outside of Europe.

This heavy exposure is likely a consequence of European colonialism and neocolonialism; such power structures had lasting influences on education and media around the world, covertly undermining the masses’ beliefs about the development of cultures outside of European origin. Art in particular has a key role in culture, so today, when European art is deemed ‘classy’ and ‘sophisticated’ (through the fact that it is taught in education) little to no room is left for other types of traditional, realistic or representational art from different cultures to be held in a similar high regard. This leaves an imprint on the consumers of art, and perhaps a negative bias toward non-western work. This bias doesn’t necessarily manifest as distaste or disrespect, but can also appear in a sort of wellmeaning condescension towards various ethnic groups and cultures. Their art is unsophisticated, and foreign, unfamiliar compared to the widely understood and comforting art of European origin; European work is the basis of art and everything else is foreign experimentation that follows.

THROUGH THE WINDOWS OF 'PARASITE'

February 9th, 2020; The Dolby Theatre, Los Angeles California. The Oscars.

An award ceremony that is not so much a commemoration of incredible art as it is a celebration of Hollywood prestige. Millions of people tune in every year to gaze at their favourite stars and starlets gliding across the red carpet, almost like characters from their own films. Even the show’s presentation itself tends to be more interested in the gallant tuxedos and graceful dresses rather than the awarded films themselves. Nonetheless, this façade of ‘movie magic’ has recently been waning. Viewership plummets every year, and the nominations themselves are becoming more and more repetitive. In 2020, we saw two retirement projects from veteran directors in The Irishman and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and a studio comic-book movie in Joker. As impressive as these pictures may have been, many of them could be described as clever rebrands of familiar storylines, genres, and tropes. The Oscars were becoming stale, and audiences were craving something unalike the traditional cookie-cut movie that Hollywood had been mass-producing for years. That is why there could not have been a better surprise than the moment when Jane Fonda, a symbol of old Hollywood, announced the Best Picture. The first film not in the English language to win the award, Parasite was triumphant. How unexpected. While many of the audience members at home sat in shock, those who paid attention to the ceremony would have noticed the roaring applause from the Academy members. Tom Hanks cheered on ecstatically. Joaquin Phoenix scanned the crowd almost paternally, scolding all his peers who did not clap with him. It was a wonderful, refreshing evening for both the Oscars and the team behind Parasite, who took home four golden statues. Yet, the real victor was none other than the film’s writer and director, the charming and bubbly Bong Joon Ho. Director Bong is not unknown in the world of cinema: his work often found its way onto Quentin Tarantino’s notorious lists. However, Bong truly broke into global stardom that night, and deservedly so, he earned it. From Memories of Murder (2003) to Snowpiercer (2013), Bong’s movies are the embodiment of the word ‘unexpected. ’ His filmography consists of thrilling journeys that can only be described as balancing acts of comedy, tragedy, and horror. Parasite (2019), Bong’s latest project, is perhaps his ultimate work. A suspenseful tale threaded with black comedy and social satire; it is undoubtedly a masterpiece.

Parasite tells the story of class warfare. We follow the Kim family, who jump from job to job struggling to make ends meet, as they infiltrate the Park’s, a family blinded by their wealth. Slowly, they conquer the house by eliminating already employed workers, and conveniently posing as highly qualified alternatives. Eventually, the Kim’s went from making Pizza boxes to working as tutors,

Nikola Pandurovic 12CHO

housemaids, and drivers in the Park household. Through this plot, Bong reconsiders the question opened by the film’s title: who are the parasites? The Kim family is the first to come to mind. Their trickery and manipulation have allowed them to improve their standard of living, all the while completely undetected by the naïve Park’s. On the other hand, the Park family itself puts forward a strong case for being the ultimate leeches.

They cannot cook, drive, or clean for themselves; their lavish lifestyle is exclusively dependant on those who serve them. Thus, they in a sense are also parasites. Regardless of how you read this relationship, Bong is persistent in drawing the differences between the classes of both families, utilising various filmmaking techniques and visual motifs to do so. This is first apparent in the production design of the film. The two houses are not just important to the film’s narrative but are integral to the central themes. With its open spaces and boxy design, the Park house embodies the pinnacle of modernist architecture, suggesting total freedom and comfort. Contrary to this, the Kim home cannot even be described as a house in the first place. A semi-basement with claustrophobic spacing; a dull and depressing colours palette; as well as a cluttered mess of props: their home reflects their impoverished and trapped state in society. Adding to these conflicting atmospheres, Bong uses lighting to emphasise the class disparity. Both houses contain windows, however, they are both completely different in function and quality. The Park’s are washed with natural sunlight through their wide windowpanes, which provide a luscious view of their garden. This juxtaposes the windows of the Kim’s, which are barred and constricting, almost prison-like. Minimal light enters their apartment, and their eye levels access the repulsive views of concrete floors, densely populated neighbourhoods, and even on occasion drunk men urinating on the streets. Vertical visual architecture is also a prominent weapon in Bong’s arsenal. The clear opposition between the levels of the two homes adds to the theme of the class divide: the Kim’s live underground, whilst the Park’s on

highland, close to the sun. This inherent conflict was captured effectively by the film’s cinematographer, Hong KyungPyo, in particular through the use of stairs as a visual metaphor. In an interview, Hong commented that ‘walking up some stairs, you become infinitely elegant, while walking down another, you fall endlessly or enter into an ominous mood. ’ This usage of levels extends into one of the film’s many climaxes, the thunderstorm scene. The pouring of the rain is merely an inconvenience to the Park’s, as the high level of their home protects them. More so, they consider the downpour to be an exciting twist in their camping trip, and a sign of good weather the following day. Opposite to this, the Kim’s experience of the rain is detrimental. Their whole community is flooded, and the entire apartment is destroyed, drowning in the water. This scene was a clear indication from director Bong that their differences in class and wealth are not just aesthetic, but distinctions that determine life or death.

Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite is one of the most impeccable films ever made. Each shot is constructed with great craft, and no shot is out of place. Even though the film is so meticulously engineered, its direction so focused, it never feels too calculated or cold. Parasite truly captures the curiosity of the audience, raising questions that are not just

relevant in the current socio-political climate, but one that will always be relevant. Though many can claim that Parasite’s success was helped by identity politics and liberal social movements, those individuals come from positions of ignorance and utter stupidity. Parasite deserved every applause it ever heard. We can hope that its triumphs lead the way for award ceremonies, like the Oscars, to open their doors to the wonderful potential of international cinema.

MUSIC AND THE MIND

Cara Michell 12CHO

The fact that music has an impact on your thoughts, feelings and behaviours probably does not come as much of a surprise. Music can be used to relax the mind, energize the body, and even help people manage pain, but there is a deeper notion that it can have strong psychological effects. Moreover, research has shown that, by listening to music, your overall mental and emotional state is improved. This is because it benefits the release of dopamine: a neurotransmitter, important in lifting your mood, and a big role in our unique human ability to think and plan. Research has shown

Improving Cognitive Performance

Because of its rhythmic and repetitive aspects, music plays an important role in engaging the neocortex of the brain, which calms us and reduces impulsivity. This can improve your focus and concentration in particularly taxing or boring scenarios. We

listen to music to match or alter our mood, which can help us in becoming more self-aware and having a better general mood in everyday scenarios.

Personal enhancement background music (PEBM) is a passive counterpart to active forms of musical use, which highlights the ancient idea that music can be wholly efficacious in producing effects on people without the necessity of musical production. The “passive” , or “distracted” listener to PEBM does not pay attention to the music, merely letting it play in the background. While this may not elicit the same behaviours or reactions as “active” listening (where the music is listened to without distraction), it still has many benefits in clinical settings, such as in Alzheimer’s patients to improve their memory. that when an individual listens to music, the dopamine response is triggered, and you feel motivated and able to concentrate. This also acts as a method to reduce stress and anxiety, for example at the prospect of upcoming exams. This can be seen through medical practices, who often play soothing music to reduce stress.

Music Therapy

Music therapy is a clinical and evidence-based practice that uses music to help patients suffering from disorders such as Alzheimer’s or Dementia to reach their goals. Types of music therapies include singing, dancing, clapping, or playing instruments while actively listening to music. Music has been shown to alter brain structure and function, both after immediate

and repeated exposure. For example, musical training over time has been shown to increase the connectivity of certain brain regions, particularly the hippocampus. These changes in brain circuitry and connectivity suggest opportunities to activate these regions to promote healing in patients.

Here rise to life again, dead poetry! Let it, O holy Muses, for I am yours, And here Calliope, strike a higher key, Accompanying my song with that sweet air which made the wretched Magpies feel a blow that turned all hope of pardon to despair

Dante, "Purgatorio" , Canto I, lines 7 to 12