UAUIMAnunțuriArhitectura și credința – prelegeri Dan Coma zilnic 04.12 - 23.12, ora 18:00, Sala Frescelor

Arhitectura și credința

8 decembrie 2017

zilnic 04.12 - 23.12, ora 18:00, Sala Frescelor

Buna ziua.

Asa cum am mai scris, as vrea sa incep de saptamana viitoare un act de credinta: e vorba de credinta ca relatia dintre arhitectura si spirit nu poate sa fie neglijata si apropierea Craciunului imi intareste aceasta convingere.

Relatia mea cu religia nu este una foarte stransa, din punct de vedere dogmatic, desi si eu, ca "aristocratul" lui Adolf Loos, imi scot palaria cand trec pe langa o biserica. Aristocratul lui Loos era ateu, eu nu sunt. Dar va marturisesc ca dogmele religiei nu imi incalzesc sufletul.

Cu toate acestea, eu insumi am lansat o competitie de arhitectura acum 15 ani cu titlul" Arhitectura ca Rugaciune", parafrazand titlul cartii lui Elena Dulgheru, "Filmul ca Rugaciune".

Si vorbind de film, mi-as dori si eu ca macar un arhitect, azi, sa-si dedice proiectul cu aceleasi trei initiale pe care le folosea si marele regizorul suedez de film Ingmar BERGMAN, in scenariile sale: S.D.G. - Soli Deo Gloria (Doar pentru Gloria lui Dumnezeu). Si inainte de el, Johann Sebastian Bach a facut exact acelasi lucru.

Aici nu e vorba de a fi habotnic (Bergman spre exemplu avea indoielile lui), ci de acea incordare, acea intensitate creativa care duce spre excelenta si superlativ.

Este, spus simplu, cautarea absolutului.

Iata ce spunea Ingmar Bergman:

People ask what are my intentions with my films--my aims. It is a difficult and dangerous question, and I usually give an evasive answer: I try to tell the truth about the human condition, the truth as I see it. This answer seems to satisfy everyone, but it is not quite correct. I prefer to describe what I would like my aim to be. There is an old story of how the cathedral of Chartres was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. Then thousands of people came from all points of the compass, like a giant procession of ants, and together they began to rebuild the cathedral on its old site. They worked until the building was completed--master builders, artists, laborers, clowns, noblemen, priests, burghers. But they all remained anonymous, and no one knows to this day who built the cathedral of Chartres.

Regardless of my own beliefs and my own doubts, which are unimportant in this connection, it is my opinion that art lost its basic creative drive the moment it was separated from worship. It severed an umbilical cord and now lives its own sterile life, generating and degenerating itself. In former days the artist remained unknown and his work was to the glory of God. He lived and died without being more or less important than other artisans; 'eternal values,' 'immortality' and 'masterpiece' were terms not applicable in his case. The ability to create was a gift. In such a world flourished invulnerable assurance and natural humility. Today the individual has become the highest form and the greatest bane of artistic creation.

The smallest wound or pain of the ego is examined under a microscope as if it were of eternal importance. The artist considers his isolation, his subjectivity, his individualism almost holy. Thus we finally gather in one large pen, where we stand and bleat about our loneliness without listening to each other and without realizing that we are smothering each other to death. The individualists stare into each other's eyes and yet deny the existence of each other.

We walk in circles, so limited by our own anxieties that we can no longer distinguish between true and false, between the gangster's whim and the purest ideal. Thus if I am asked what I would like the general purpose of my films to be, I would reply that I want to be one of the artists in the cathedral on the great plain. I want to make a dragon's head, an angel, a devil--or perhaps a saint--out of stone. It does not matter which; it is the sense of satisfaction that counts.

Regardless of whether I believe or not, whether I am a Christian or not, I would play my part in the collective building of the cathedral.

Din nou, mi-ar fi placut ca un arhitect sa spuna asta, dar din pacate nu a facut-o, nu in vremurile recente. A facut-o un regizor de film. Dupa cum tot dintr-un film sunt imaginile din afis, din emotionantul film "Nostalghia" al marelui regizor de film rus, Andrei Tarkovsky.

Va multumesc si va astept.

Dan Coma