Have a close look at this painting. It’s from the early 1900’s. Look at the detail, the masterly depiction of depth between the castle in the foreground, the mist-shrouded hills in the background. Examine the painting’s perfectly wrought perspective. The castle is a forbidding redoubt, a place locked away from everything and everyone. Its sole purpose is to distance anyone unfortunate enough to inhabit it from joy, from life, from God.
I sent a screenshot of the painting to my cousin Jeff. I asked him how it made him feel. “It’s a stunning rendition of the most boring day ever,” he said.
“Who’s the artist?” “You’ll recognize his name,” I answered. Now, if you’ll allow me, let me take you on a brief philosophical journey.
There is a fundamental concept in Judaism. It’s referred to as "yesh m’ayin." Something from nothing. Jewish tradition posits that God created —and continues to recreate the world from utter nothingness. This notion challenges us to perceive beyond the physical realm and come to recognize the underlying spiritual essence of all existence. Our artist’s take offers a contrasting portrayal, suggesting a rejection of spiritual depth and an embrace of materialism. The concept of yesh m’ayin insists that we begin to think of the world beyond its material manifestations. It emphasizes the importance of looking beyond our sensory perceptions and concentrating on the spiritual dimension of existence.
Within Judaism, there is also an imperative to cultivate a sense of yesh m’ ayin’s opposite — which is ayin m’yesh. Ayin (nothingness) from yesh (something). In other words, this is a directive to create in one’s mind, a glimpse of the idea of nothing from something. Let me help clarify this for you. As temporal beings living in a physical world, it’s effortless for us to perceive our physical environment. But if you’ve ever tried it, you know that perceiving nothing from something is an incredible challenge. It requires you to embrace the physical world (which takes no effort) while simultaneously holding in your mind the idea that the physical world has no “independent existence” whatsoever. By that I mean that the entire universe —including time, space, life, death, sticks, stones and everything you can possible imagine and beyond —is being willed into existence at this very moment and the next and the next… by God. Nothing from something is difficult to comprehend. In fact, it is virtually impossible for any human being to comprehend nothingness. Even the word nothing refers to a thing. That “thing” of course, is: not nothing. If we were to try to understand “nothingness” we might start by picturing the endless, dark, and empty void of space. But we’d be way off the mark.
Darkness is something. Space is something. A void is something. Endlessness is something.
We won’t ever get a clear sense of nothing. However, we can, through our efforts to intuit nothing from something begin to get clarity around the idea that the physical world isn’t the end all and be all. In so doing, we can become more astute to the wonder of our own aliveness. And it’s within that heightened frame of mind that we find ourselves more joyful, hopeful, loving, and powerfully creative. We might even come to see that the miracles we’ve been waiting for have been here all along, hiding within the trillions of moments of our own lives.
Ok. Here’s another of our artist’s paintings.
It’s clearly a well rendered painting. But see how it appears to reflect a rejection of spiritual depth and an embrace of materialism. The work lacks the soul and richness often associated with profound artistic expression. At best, it’s worthy of being hung in a Motel 6, certainly not the Louvre. The painting suggests a limited ability to perceive beyond the physical realm. Our artist’s focus on architectural subjects and his inability to capture the human form indicate a detachment from the spiritual essence of existence. No doubt, this artistic liability had much to do with our artist’s two humiliating rejections from the prestigious Vienna Academy of Arts. (Note that Picasso, Mattise, Kandinsky, Klimt, and Chagall were all working within roughly the same time frame as our artist.)
“Blue Segment” Vassily Kandinsky, 1921
Examining our artist’s work through the lens of yesh m’ayin (something from nothing) and ayin m’yesh (nothing from something) reveals a stark contrast between his worldview, and the aforementioned imperative to perceive the world as fundamentally spiritual. His paintings, all of them characterized by their soullessness, depict a world devoid of spiritual significance. They project an inability or unwillingness to create a depth of emotion. As such they reflect a failure to recognize the underlying spiritual dimension of reality. While Judaism (and other faiths) emphasize the importance of transcending sensory perceptions to perceive the spiritual essence of the world, our artist’s paintings reflect a materialistic worldview that prioritize surface-level appearances. I mention this because that very disconnect caused a grave tension to fester within our artist.
“Self Portrait with Seven Digits” Marc Chagall, 1913
Is it possible that our artist, who desperately wanted to be recognized as a great painter, coupled with his materialistic worldview, might have harbored some… shall we say, “ill feelings?” And in particular, harbored ill feelings toward a people whose nature is both to thrive in the material world and to transcend the material world? And could this also explain the future actions of our artist, a man who was no doubt intelligent and in many ways quite talented? Furthermore, could those actions have been driven by a insatiable jealousy toward those who possessed abilities that he lacked —and would, in all likelihood never find?
Jealousy, after all, is a powerful motivator. Perhaps for some, the most powerful of all.
For those interested, our artist was born on April 20, 1889 in the small Austrian town of Braunau am Inn, in Upper Austria on the Austrian-German border. He later became very well known. Unfortunately for him —and mostly for others —not so much for his artwork.
With every breath I take I know that I am taking into my body at least one molecule of oxygen that once coursed through the veins of 'our artist'.... and Moses, and Jesus, Ghengis Kahn, and Stalin, and, and...
It was said of Reb Simcha Bunem that he carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one he wrote: Bishvili nivra ha-olam—“for my sake the world was created.” On the other he wrote: V’anokhi afar v’efer”—“I am but dust and ashes.” He would take out each slip of paper as necessary, as a reminder to himself. What I love about this metaphor is that I can pull out either slip, as needed, to engage a situation. Once again I am an individual.... AND I am a part of ... a body, a family, a culture, a city, a country, a species, and a part of the awareness I'll call life.
As a boy 'our artist' was known to be beaten daily and at least once to extent that he nearly died and was in a life and death coma for three days. He proudly told his mother that his "father hit him 34 times today and he didn't make a sound." Perhaps this explains his painting's being devoid of emotion and sould.
I guess my point here is that childhood trauma may also be one of the usual suspects for understanding how people act the way they do. As a psychotherapist of course trauma is my 'hammer' and your post Peter, is the 'nail' that I see today. I'll get in trouble though, if I can only hit nails with a hammer. Or, if I go too long forgetting that I also have a pocket filled with ash and dust.
I looked at that painting and I didn't like it. I have a fear of heights and those structures were just high up, isolated, and distant. I had no idea what you were going to say about it but I was ready to say "uggh," Then you led us to understand WHO did it! OMG. I guessed it after a while. The baby pic confirmed it. I've seen that pic in other publications! What you say about the painting being devoid of real spirituality and centered on materialism is SPOT ON. That was the painter's inner landscape. (I don't want to be a spoiler so I'm not saying who he is.). The other artists showed their involvement with human beings. You are so perceptive. I'd love to know what you think of Cezanne and Van Gogh. Thank you for sharing. You infuse everything with spirituality, which is absolutely beautiful and correct.