As Jacqueline Baas demonstrates in
this slowly constructed book, the impact of Buddhist philosophy, and
particularly a Buddhist aesthetic, has been very profound over the last 120
years or so. It is however, often a subliminal or subtle influence that has
moved us towards a sense of simplicity and essence and away from ornamentation
and direct representation. And it from this that we may have most to learn.

We are all familiar with the many and diverse images
of the Buddha; the happy, smiling, plump fellow or the more austere serenity of
some other traditions. We also know of Zen gardens and some Japanese crafts. We
do not, it seems, often consider how the aesthetic appeal is infused with deep
philosophical understandings of the nature of life. Nor do we often understand
the way in which the different representations of the Buddha, not only relate
to incidents in his life, the disillusion he found in extreme asceticism to the
point of starvation for example, but different paths within Buddhism as a
whole.

Baas does not embark on a grand
narrative approach. Rather, she illustrates her points by considering a number
of artists, and examining their work in greater detail. She covers a period
from Monet to the present day, and from what may be considered mainstream to
the avant garde. She considers the now familiar impressionists and the radical
turn away from direct representationalism. In particular, the essay on Gaugin
whose work if not his lifestyle bears the greatest evidence of a Buddhist
influence among the early moderns, is of interest, but she also considers van
Gogh, and the more tangentially influenced Duchamp and Redon.

She looks at the new aesthetic
inspired by the West’s sense of discovery of Japanese art. But it is when she
begins to examine the work of the later twentieth century that she begins to
really mine the philosophical impact of Buddhism. It is in consideration of these
later artists that the impact of Buddhist philosophy, rather than aesthetics
alone, begins to be felt.

A prime mover in all of this is
John Cage. Cage’s minimalism was far more than a revolt against the dominant
trends. In his widely divergent career, he very consciously and quite
deliberately set out to strip away the layers of pretence and veneer that
obscured the purpose of art — and I think Cage did see art as having a
purpose. In between his more famous pieces, like 4’33”, he constructed a sense of essence in which the Buddhist
notion of detachment was powerful and almost omnipresent. But this detachment
is not to be likened to being uninterested, or even disinterested. It is more
akin to becoming unshackled by ephemera; to be truly at one with the essence of
life. Cage’s influence on contemporaries and followers in the Fluxus movement
is a major theme in the book. Other artists, abstract and conceptual, including
Yoko Ono, Paik and Jasper Johns all of whom feature in the book, are in his
debt, but not many will articulate these concepts so clearly.

There is a way, however, in which
the Buddhist influence that Baas considers is only a small part of Buddhism,
and often taken from a relatively minor area of practice. Zen Buddhism, which
seems by far to have the most profound reach in the aesthetics of the West, is
almost an outpost of mainstream Buddhism, and detachment, while being central
to Buddhist philosophy, cannot be considered alone without compassion or desire
as the cause of suffering. Nor are the influences of the Eightfold Path
particularly evident.

It is, however, an interesting
discussion how the nature of Buddhism as a discovered rather than revealed
experience relates to the meditative qualities that infuse some abstract
artists. Mark Rothko comes to mind, although he is not among the artists
considered.

The book is produced in a very
handsome format. It is worthy of any coffee table. It is illustrated with fine
examples of the work of the artists, and also of traditional art. It is also a
contemplative book; one in which the text and illustration tend to stay with
the reader. One to which you will want to come back time and again. Sometimes,
you will just want to look at the pictures, sometimes, you will self-awarely
regard yourself, regarding them. Sometimes, if you look very closely at the
smile on the Buddha’s face you will not know what he is thinking, but that will
be alright.

Most of the time, you will hope
that you too can share that peace and stillness, that distilled and pure presence
and you will be glad that he shared it with you.

© 2005 Mark Welch

Mark Welch, Ph.D. Assistant Professor in the Faculty of
Nursing at the University of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta and Co-Director of the
PAHO/WHO Collaborating Centre for Nursing & Mental Health.

Categories: ArtAndPhotography, Religion