Posted by: Jussara


Produzido pela BBC, este programa apresenta o filósofo Roger Scruton em um provocante ensaio sobre a importância da beleza nas artes e em nossas vidas.

Scruton argumenta que, no século XX, arte, arquitetura e música viraram as costas para a beleza, fazendo um culto à feiúra e nos levando a um deserto espiritual.

Usando o pensamento dos mais importantes filósofos, de Platão e Kant, e conversando com os artistas MichaelCraig-Martin e Alexander Stoddart, Scruton analisa onde a arte deu errado e apresenta sua apaixonada proposta para restaurar a beleza à sua posição tradicional no centro de nossa civilização.


WHY BEAUTY MATTERS


Anúncios

Posted by: Jussara

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Beauty’s everywhere, but you need to have an “eye” to catch it… Some photographers do it so well (thank God!), so the ones who don’t have that “eye” may be able to see it somehow… I love photography! — not only the kind that captures beauty, but…

Babies, kitties and little dogs (dogs in general, of course) are the CUTEST things EVER! Oops, and flowers… I feel like “dying” when I see them. Or better, I feel something warm inside of me, like a desire to hold, cherish and take care of them forever. That’s LAME, I know, but I don’t care. If there’s really something like “happiness” in this miserable human life, that may be it… It doesn’t last, but it’s not supposed to (contrary to the opinion of many people)… 😉

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If I had a house and not an apartment, I’d buy one of this before buying a bed! OMG, sooo cute it makes me feel I’m five years old again! Extremely happy…

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keats19A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

John Keats
(1795-1821)