Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Lida statement

Lida references the infamous story of Leda and the Swan.* In this mythological tale, a swan is purported to have descended on Leda and ravished her vaingloriously. Nevertheless, as swans and girls are anatomically incompatible, from the start, this yarn is absurd. It is amazing that, although this myth is truly archetypal as everyone has heard of Leda, few know the details of the narrative, where even a dictionary of mythology is vague. Thus, this work exemplifies my belief that our labels of “superficial” or profound,” applied to what we value (or don’t value) are slippery at best. Leda and the Swan is indeed the quintessential sentimental story, yet it is a permanent thread in the fabric of greater human culture.

Behind the sculpture on a ledge are three ovals.
Appearing to be hat-boxes or some sort of frivolous accessory storage containers, in fact, these boxes contain the profound passages of literature. One of the books in the boxes is Nadja by Andre Breton. This oeuvre depicts a reeling love affair that transports us out of the physical realm of gravity and physics. As a swan glides along the water’s edge, we are conveyed along, drifting through a sensory world of intoxicating emotion. Here, again, is another interweaving of the superficial and the profound.

In the end, I decided to not research Leda’s alleged circumstances further. Instead, I venture my own interpretation. With grace and pretty, fluffy feathers, a swan is surely a feminine entity. I see this saga as being femininity’s ravaging of itself. On one level, with its narcissism, hyper-attention to the external, passivity, and dogged compulsions, femininity’s ravishing siege likely ends in none but our own self-generated defilement.

*Normally, as a sculpture is being made, it suggests its name to me. Then, upon reflection and research, I derive the piece’s story. Misspellings (ie Lida—Leda,) reflect the presence of Aesa (greek root meaning error) in the irrational, emotional domain of art.