Giuseppe Schembri Bonaci

 

In my line of work, both that which involves academic research and the creative praxis of art, time, public holidays, weekends, and even nights and mornings, do not exist.

This is not because such work is cumbersome or cruel. On the contrary, it consists solely of passion and love. There is no choice: either one accepts both activities as professional love - wherein a hobby becomes a professional, persistent endeavour - otherwise it is better not to enter into this sphere of activity, one which is without parallel. However, on the other hand, it is a highly envious creative activity which does not allow one to distance themselves from it: for friends, family, children, partners, or other activities.

There is no guarantee of when one will begin or end their reading and research, and once the inspirational muse appears, it becomes infernal. Meaning that nights become busy and tiredness unnoticeable, resulting in a quasi divine satisfaction, and even depression. Yet there is no better choice. Reading and creation are two aspects of the same vocation, because during the act of the reading the mind creates its own world, the same for art and its praxis. During travels and during holidays, in the rain, lightning, thunderstorms, heat waves, sunshine and cacophony, creative thought continues to persist and doesn't leave one in peace. And this lack of internal serenity is the fountain of creation.

However, this does not appear on the surface. All is passing between the mind and the inner body. In fact, many a time I am surprised that many of my intimate friends, even members of my family, interpret all this as laziness. I adore doing nothing, i.e. doing nothing beyond myself and I am in seventh heaven when all my actions are taking place within my thought. This type of laziness which conjures radical thought is the greatest existing violent force.

Thought alone has to me become the highest form of creativity, the most creative form which is not only the form of creativity most remote from any material form but, I even dare to say, that it doesn't include any material element.

The history of art is rife, over whole centuries of evolution and change, with experiments and developments dedicated to the liberation of art itself from all material aspects. In the beginning art believed it had achieved this by concealing materiality behind the illusionary curtain of perspective, form and harmony of colour.

Other times art, dissatisfied with magical illusions, chose to expose materiality by greatly minimizing the use of futile material elements. Thus minimalist artworks were created and even conceptual ones, which employed the least possible quantity of material components.  Art could not arrive at the stage of eradicating all materiality since a concept, in order to be comprehensible and tangible, must have a means of touching our senses. This only occurs by means of materiality. So as to thoroughly depart from profound levels of materiality, art introduced minimalist methodologies.

In other periods, so as to abolish the illusion of non-materialism, art offered a paradoxical alternative through which it negates itself.  This occurred in a period not so distant from today, which engendered the idea that materiality itself, without the need for craft or thought, could usurp the throne and the crown of art itself. And thus erupted a pandemonium of purely material objects being introduced into artistic spaces and museums which significantly gained recognition as art: toilets, chairs, rubbish, bricks, steel, meat, sacks, sand, dust, human and animal remains, metal, stones and a million other things, including shoes, sweets and figolli. It was enough for them to be solely material, materiality in itself.

Music is the most radical form of art which managed to escape the weight of materiality. It is not surprising that many visual artists used the language and grammar of music to evolve their art to avoid materiality as much as possible.

Homer and all the poets of antiquity gave examples of this. For the same reason, the Greek philosopher Plato rebelled against the phenomenal invention of the Phoenicians, our ancestors: that of the alphabet and writing which corresponded to the sound of the letter. According to Plato, this diabolical invention materialized thought and corrupted memory.

In fact, this argument finds a profound reflection in the Christian religion. The phrase Verbum Dei Caro Factum Est means, amongst other things, that the word of god has become material. The idea (logos) of god became an objective material reality.

It seems that ideas and thoughts cannot be isolated. They have to be materialized. We unavoidably have to see them and touch the concept. Like St. Thomas, we cannot tolerate thought if it remains thought alone.

And today I have arrived at the stage of believing that thought alone is the strongest creative act which does not require a material relationship. I walk and think by myself and allow the forces which encircle my brain cells to construct my own world. You may think that this is a paradox, yet it is not.

The highest creative level of thought is attained when thought is free from any material ties. However, for it to reach such a level one must pursue the complicated and beautiful process of infusing thought with the riches of human genius. And to imbue thought with such riches, much work and dedication is required, an enormous yet beautiful task. In fact, the only thing which grieves me is the impossibility of knowing and reading everything within my life time. This does affect me negatively internally.

Writers such as James Joyce, Juann Mamo, Shakespeare, Milton, Bulgakov, Gogol, Carmel Attard, Auden, Dostoevsky, Dun Karm, Chekhov, Leopardi, Pavese, Borges, Akmatova, Meylaq, Carmelo Bene, Tolstoi, Proust, Celine, Camus... greatness upon greatness, and all asking the same vital question: What is man doing upon this earth and, maybe, why? And, reading as much as one possibly may, one digs for but remains without an answer.

With Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Rachmaninov, Debussy, Shostakovich, Stravinsky, Ravel, when asking the same questions, an answer is provided, yet it is not physically there.

With Rembrandt, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Josef Kalleya, Picasso, Balthus, Rodin, Malevich, Magnasco, Caravaggio, we continue to stare into the greatness of nothingness without finding any answers.

Heidegger, Marx, Pythagoras, Socrates, Gramsci, Baxandall, the Frankfurt and Warburg Schools, Croce and Camus...

All, like St. Augustine, wanted to pour the ocean into a sand hole. We must continue to plough; we must try to use or intuition to grasp a sense of the here and now. And we must return to Greek mythology, to Gilgamesh, to Egyptian antiquity, to Aboriginal Dreamings, towards Pound and the parable. And maybe we may see a ray of hope.

 

Article edited and translated by Nikki Petroni

Giuseppe Schembri Bonaci is the artistic director of the Mdina Cathedral Contemporary Art Biennale which will be held between 13 November 2015 and 7 January 2016. APS is the main partner of the Mdina Biennale