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PHiLOSOPHY: Truth vs Utility, re Religion

Watching By The Sword Divided, and observing the role of religion, mostly in the form of prayers, but also in the schism ‘twixt Royalist Popery vs Parliamentarian Puritanism, got me thinking about the function of religious belief.

This isn’t an essay on the subject, merely a ‘note to self’. And it’s on a theme my mind often returns to. How do I, a free-thinking rationalist, deal with religion, personally? I can’t believe in it. Yet I can see it’s utility.

The act of vocalising one’s desires, as in prayer, seems obviously beneficial, in that it focuses the mind. And an appeal to forces greater than (and external to) one’s self is (or at least can be) – ironically, perhaps? – both quite humble (an acceptance of one’s own smallness; a good thing), and even ‘realistic’. The mast in the sense of acknowledging one’s own ‘smallness’ in the grand scheme of things.

There’s an irony in that the monomaniac quest for truth (at any expense) can lead to a position that’s overly ego-istic. The idea that our own rather limited minds and bodies can contend with the powers or scale of the universe is apt to be rudely dispelled by real life.

Religious practices, prayer in particular is on my mind here, help bring calm where there was panic, peace where there was internal strife, and solace. If God/the Powers That Be (whatever they are!?) can be addressed directly, and thought of as sympathetic, one’s outlook on life can be buttressed by faith.

Since abandoning religion in my teens, I’ve been highly anti-faith/belief. Despite this, I’ve always remained aware, however, that the the needs religion addresses – and I’m talking about religion here as a personal thing, as opposed to ‘the church’ as a power in society – might be part of our suite of ‘necessary illusions’. Certainly historically, it appears that myth/poetry, call it what you will, have been part of our survival kit.

Telling ourselves stories to give meaning and purpose to our lives is normal human behaviour, and as far as I can tell, always has been. How and where can I partake of this ancient tradition, in a way I can ‘believe’ in?

I’m stumped, to be honest. Non religious modern culture seems to me to have thrown the baby out with the bath water. But older traditions remain too parochial and hide-bound. It’s a proper conundrum, no mistake!

Going back to the TV series, and something that struck me about it: the way the Puritans are about ‘Popery’, and the Cavaliers being High Anglican Tories, in essence, all in the wake of Henry VIII splitting with Rome so he could diddle whomsoever he pleased…

Well, frankly speaking, it’s Benny Hill, or French Boudoir Farce, right? And yet it ossifies into these ‘venerable’ traditions. Mad!

And what about the words venerate and venereal? They both derive from Venus, one assumes. So buried deep in what has become pompously and self-righteously anti-sexual is a very pro-sexual set of ideas. I find the evolution of language, and our culture of associated concepts, endlessly fascinating.

Multiple Gods evolve into monotheism, and where we once were supplicants to the caprices of pagan pantheons, we’re now friends with a singular deity who ‘is love’, and cares for all. Nothing should demonstrate the man-made evolution of religion, as opposed to its self-proclaimed God-given immutability, more blatantly.

This evolution seems to me the most obvious proof of religion’s status as a human artefact. But it’s more than just an artefact, it’s a quality, or dimension. It makes that saying ‘if God didn’t exist, we’d have to invent him’ a literal truth. God doesn’t exist, so we’re continually inventing and re-inventing him/her/it.

One final observation, on the evolution of language and the concomitant evolution of religion. The Israelites’, founders (of sorts; you have to give Constantine due credit n’ all) of one of the most virulent of modern monotheisms, their very name is a compression (and expression) of three deities: Ish, Ra, and El!

So a people whose very name means ‘the people of three Gods’ has become one of the standard bearers of contemporary monotheism. As folk like Count Arthur Strong and Alan Partridge are fond of saying… you couldn’t make it up!

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MUSiC/ART & DESiGN: The Blue Note Art Blakey Covers

So good!

I have a few ‘coffee table’ art books on the subject of jazz record covers. And whilst all of them contain great stuff, none of them quite capture or distil the real magic of the best album covers as I wish they would.

This one’s actually an homage…

I think to do that they’d have to be bigger than LP-sized, and reproduce all the covers at full size. Ideally with room to spare. There’s naught worse than beautiful images that run into the gutter/spine of a book! Well, I admit, there’s a lot that’s worse. But you know what I’m saying.

How can you not love this?

This post isn’t meant to be in any way comprehensive. For starters I’m limiting it purely to one record label and one artist: Art Blakey on Blue Note. But isn’t it amazing how great these covers are? For my money they elevate the packaging to a plane very much akin to the music.

This one belongs to a weird sub-category!*

And when both music and art are sublime, that kind of sympathetic synergy is a wonderful thing, to be savoured, treasured, and just plain enjoyed/appreciated… so feast your eyes. And, ideally, put on some Blakey, and feast your ears as well!

Sublime! What a face.

In Art Blakey Reid Miles and Francis Wolff found someone who had the musical spirit they loved, plus seemingly unbounded energy and charisma, and really striking looks to boot. He’s a funny looking dude, in some ways. But he’s incredibly photogenic with it.

Fontastic.

Wolff would be busy, snapping away at recording sessions. And then later Miles would work his hyper-aesthetic design magic. The resulting package is on a par with the music, as art in its own right. And it helps lend the era/genre a hard to define but instantly recognisable vibe, both rootsy and yet sophisticated.

A typical Wolff studio portrait.

Above is the kind of raw material Wolff would provide Reid Miles with, a fantastic studio shot of the artist at work. Interestingly Wolf’s photographic estate is handled (at least in part?), by the specialist jazz label Mosaic, who might very well have taken their name – they certainly share it – from a Blakey track.

A lot of the covers use black and white photos with single colours as screening tints. And the use of typography is just phenomenal. But as the images directly above and below demonstrate. Miles could still weave his spells with full colour imagery, and more colourful font palettes.

Whether using a fuller range of colours, or going super stark and minimalist, as on Three Blind Mice (below), these covers have a tremendous power. I absolutely adore them!

Sweaty, intense and stark.

Pictured below is one of the books mentioned at the top of this post.

Also worth noting is how the Wolff/Miles house style lives on. The following images are all later non Wolff/Miles productions that clearly owe a debt to and seek to emulate (with varying degrees of fidelity/success) the classic Blue Note house style.

The above is, by normal standards, a great cover. But frankly it’s not in the same league as the real deal. The effort below is a lot better.

Another later ‘in the style of’ example.

I intend to get a body of these and similar record covers decently printed, and then frame and display them myself, both in my office/home studio, and around our home. To finish, a very early example, from back when Blue Note issued 10” discs. And this last one finds Blakey sharing the billing with another Blue Note legend, Horace Silver.

Wow! So g’damn groovy.

* I’ll prob do another separate post on the sub-category of Blue Note album covers that favour semi-abstract photos, often either out of focus, or treating imagery in almost purely textural terms.