Rendition of Impermanence by Yvonne da Silva ©
Have you ever wondered about the impermanence of the world we live in? Have you ever seen a flower or a human person and realised they will be gone sooner or later? Sometimes, such a thought may lead to despair. At other times, such a thought may lead to feelings of gratitude and joy that I can observe such beauty now. When this happens, we often try to capture the moment in pictures. But glancing through these images later, I realised that nothing seemed to be able to render the fragility and impermanence of the thing itself until I encountered the work of conceptual artist Yvonne da Silva at the Graduation Show ’23 of the Willem de Kooning Academy at the Hogeschool of Rotterdam, which was held just around the corner from our priory.
In the corner of a room hung a large square object with tiny wooden shapes, each rendered in a different colour. The title of the work was Rendition of Impermanence. As the sunlight touched the wooden pieces, colours lit up, and shadows deepened, giving the impression that the object was changing colours in front of your eyes. It was beautiful and yet, somehow, fragile. I asked the artist what had inspired her to create this piece of art. She answered that the object in and of itself was not a piece of art. It was just her colour-sample library: an herbarium of natural paints she had distilled from flowers and plants. And thus, our conversation began.
“…beauty relates to the cognitive faculty; for beautiful things are those which please to be seen; for the senses delight in things duly proportioned…”
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, 1, q.5.a.4.1
Inspired by Aquinas, French philosopher Jacques Maritain once wrote that the artist's intention does not determine the beauty of art but the love and craftsmanship that we can observe in the work of art itself. And this alone would have been enough for me at that moment. But then I learned the backstory of the work.
Da Silva started collecting natural paints from flowers after a loved one died. In the final weeks of this person, they strolled outside through a garden, and the beloved picked up a blue flower. Da Silva tried to preserve the flower and its beautiful colours, but this proved much more difficult than she had anticipated. After the loved one passed away, Da Silva kept collecting natural colours from flowers as part of her grieving process. She knows of almost every colour where it came from: a wildflower in the fields, a green nettle picked up in the evening (stronger colours), or a tulip that was part of a birthday present.
At some point, Da Silva decided to paint little pieces of diagonally cut wood to see how the colours would develop over time. And that collection of slowly fading natural paints was now hanging on the wall. It is brilliant. The work captures the beauty of impermanence so well. The flowers have gone, and we have tried to capture something of their beauty. But wait long enough, and most of the colours will also fade. Some may remain, but we have yet to tell which ones. One visitor liked these fading colours to memories. After a long time, most memories will fade while others stay but soften down, not as bright as before.
As I walked back from the exhibition, I looked at the sun's setting over the city and remembered that only One can see and remember the beauty of all there was, is, and will be. And whatever happens, He will never forget the beauty of our lives because our names are inscribed in the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:16).
Excellent, Father. As an artist (among other things!), I especially appreciated this meditation.