Rockwell’s characterisation of American life
in the Saturday Evening Post
captured the hearts of several generations.
He was unequivocally
one of the 20th century’s most
successful artists. My interest
in him dated from my days with Bradford
Exchange,
who built a major business out of
reproducing his art
on plates. There were scores of them, and
they
sold like hot cakes.
Sensing that there were fundamental lessons
to
learn here, I tried to organise his work into categories,
tried to see if I could find characteristic situations that
appeared
and reappeared time and again. They were not
hard to find. At that time I
recognised five core categories:
These archetypal situations are, every one,
about the pursuit of pleasure. It may be
pleasure right now (the Joy);
it may be pleasure in the future or the past
(the Dream); it may be in the
tackling of an obstacle to the pleasure (the Challenge/Impasse);
it may be in helping someone else find that
pleasure (Helping);
or in finding pleasure in unexpected ways
(the Surprise).
But all of them relate to the core activity
familiar from
fairy tales and myths, films and sports, and of course,
everyday life – the quest for a treasure,
and the
pleasure that will bring. The characters in
this
section are the archtypes one finds imbued
with the qualities of the previous two
sections. They embody essentic forms
and the forms of exploration.
Indeed, these are the categories
we use to make sense of social situations.
Everyone and everything has to fit in one
box or another
– Hero,
Dreamer, Helper, Treasure, Obstacle –
and there are others, as readers of Fairy
Tales will know
– the
Villain, the Trickster/Deceiver, the Magic Amulet, the Exotic Realm, the Portal
–
and even the Irrelevance.
Each generates the right emotion to help us
succeed in life.
We look up to the Hero for support and Help.
We feel parental towards the Dreamer, we
make oooh and aaah sounds and want to help.
We hate the Villain. We are bored by the
Irrelevance. Frustrated by the Obstacle. And we long for the Treasure.
In many cases, who is in what role is
instantly recognisable.
But how? Biological release mechanisms are
triggered by simple visual clues –
the downward tilted head and upturned eyes
of the little girl offering her doll to the doctor,
denoting submission and the cue she needs
help. The joy of the outstretched arms
of the returning soldier’s mum, and the huge
smiles on the faces
of his siblings. The longing gaze into space
of the dreamer.
Or we may of course be primed for it by the
title,
as in the case of ‘Grandpa’s Gift’.
Shapes and juxtapositions give
some of the important clues we need to
identify who and what
is fulfilling which role in any scene -
hero, rival/enemy, helper/ally, herald, treasure, magic amulet, etc.
But irrespective of the clue, the people
(and creatures – note the dog in
Rockwell’s ‘Breaking Home Ties’ – and even
rocks!)
fall quickly into slots within a hardwired
framework
(another of Marvin Minsky’s ‘agents’,
perhaps),
and the relevant emotions pop out to
influence our behaviour.
This is the prime model we have of the
world,
and which we use to survive and achieve our
ends, whether our treasure is water,
food, a mate, gold and jewels, or launching
a satellite into orbit.
Sorting out which character is playing which
role is extremely vital,
and arouses a huge amount of attention. And
the harder
it is to sort out (up to a point), the more
fascinating
-
the easier it is to achieve, the more boring.
This is the foundation
not only for how we get by in the world,
but also of all mythology, art, literature,
sport, and every cultural form,
from a tabloid newspaper article 'exposing'
a 'hero' as 'villain',
to a boxing match that is over in one round;
from
the cliffhanging ending of a soap episode to a striptease;
from
Bradford's famous plate featuring the delivery of Early Morning Milk,
to a jazz musician apparently agonising over
the return to the tonic,
while actually finding a thousand ways to delay
it.
The fundamental mechanism people use to make
sense
of the world is what we will call the Quest
for Treasure. The main archetypes
are the Treasure itself, the Heroes aspiring
and striving for it, Helpers who help the heroes,
the magic objects and places which assist
the hero in the Quest,
the evil characters who oppose them, and the
magic objects and places
which conspire to assist the villain. We are
hypothesising
that
these were hardwired into the brain long
before there were humans, because they have
huge survival value.
And
in the Quest Hypothesis I am saying that this is still the actual equipment
we use to make sense of the world, and that it is one of the three main foundations of all art forms.
...
That's it... what do you think?

(p164, The Art of Looking Sideways, Alan Fletcher, Phaidon, 2001)
The End?
© Peter Baker 2002
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