Ah, the power of art on our fickle human minds. By art, I mean music, theater, dance, and poetry that send shivers down your spine. The lavish meals, movies, novels, and haute couture draped over models during fashion week feel like muses whispering sweet words of inspiration directly into the artists' ears. The power of the performance alone brought tears to my eyes. It was New Year's Eve about 10 years ago, during a concert at the Colorado Springs Philharmonic that featured several vocalists, including Jennifer DeDominici, who I don't remember, was singing a piece by Puccini from the opera. He expressed it in a refreshing way that caught me off guard. The pure emotion pouring out of her vocal chords blew me away. Tears fell down my face. I keep trying, but nothing like that has ever happened to me while watching live opera. I want to experience that feeling again. Jazz His trumpeter Chris Botti's tones transported me into the dark spaces of Pikes Peak Center many years ago. He stood on that stage, his shiny instrument held aloft, his blonde hair shining. Like a snake charmer coaxing a reptile out of its cage, the sweet tones of the trumpet stirred tears from my parched canals.
Live well: Valentine's Day reminds us of the joy of unrequited love
Recently, I wandered through the halls of the Colorado Springs Center for the Arts at the University of Colorado and peered into a dark room where a video installation by Abdi Osman was playing on a large screen. The foreign narration combined with the footage of Venice taken from the boat drew me in and I sat spellbound. And what are the emotions that are aroused when we watch something as incomprehensible as modern dance? I'll never know which piece meant what at the recent Dance Aspen performance at the Ent Arts Center, but according to dancers I've interviewed over the years, it doesn't matter. … apparently … What matters is how it makes you feel. And maybe it just makes you feel that way. We can become disconnected from our emotions. Life can bring us to death. But art can bring us back to life. It stirs up emotions, even if you can't always pinpoint them. I'm not the only one with leaking eyeballs. A 2015 study found that crying is a typical biological response that can occur when the brain encounters something it finds beautiful. Art can cause emotional turmoil in my body, but I have yet to experience symptoms resembling a panic attack when looking at a mesmerizing painting or cathedral. But apparently some of us experience increased heart rate, chest pain, dizziness, fainting, hallucinations, and even loss of consciousness when in the presence of works of art.
Living well: A year of learning and relearning lessons.
Panic attacks caused by this beauty are known as Stendhal syndrome. No, not Stockholm Syndrome, but another theory as to why hostages sometimes develop psychological bonds with their captors. Maybe we can merge the two and feel a strange bond to a particular work of art? Stendhal syndrome is the intense physical and mental illness you may experience from appreciating great art. It's a symptom. The term was first coined in 1989 by Italian psychiatrist Graziella Magherini and is derived from the name of 19th century French writer Marie-Henri Bayle, better known by her pen name Stendhal. In 1817, Bayle describes such an intense artistic exchange when he visited the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. However, author Julian Barnes told this story in his 2008 memoir, Nothing to Be Frightened Of, after examining Bale's diary and discovering that Bale never mentioned any art-related episodes. objected to. His legs hurt and he wanted to leave Florence and catch a train to Rome. Despite its sketchy beginnings, the syndrome became known as Florence syndrome after Magherini treated more than 100 patients at a Florence hospital who visited the city's art galleries and museums.
Live Well: Little Stories of Random Kindness
Now back to my main topic. Yes, I have. That said, sometimes I just want to talk about something that comes to mind, mostly when I'm wandering around online looking for celebrity gossip, but for the record, the beauty… There will be no tears in your eyes. My intention is to encourage all of us to seek out art in the hopes that it will move us to tears or give us Stendhal syndrome. Although of course I don't really want anyone to have a panic attack. That's no joke. However, encountering art that moves us is a gift. It doesn't matter if you're moved to tears or if you don't particularly like something or don't understand it. Because that experience will now live in you forever and change you into a richer person. And if you feel dizzy after catching a glimpse of Van Gogh's “Starry Night” at New York City Museum of Art or hearing Giuseppe Verdi's “Aida” at the Metropolitan Opera, at least you'll know that. It could be more than just indigestion. Contact the author: 636-0270
Ah, the power of art on our fickle human minds.
By art, I mean music, theater, dance, and poetry that send shivers down your spine. The lavish meals, movies, novels, and haute couture draped over models during fashion week feel like muses whispering sweet words of inspiration directly into the artists' ears.
The power of the performance alone brought tears to my eyes. It was New Year's Eve about 10 years ago, during a concert at the Colorado Springs Philharmonic that featured several vocalists, including Jennifer DeDominici, who I don't remember, was singing a piece by Puccini from the opera. He expressed it in a refreshing way that caught me off guard. The pure emotion pouring out of her vocal chords blew me away. Tears fell down my face. I keep trying, but nothing like that has ever happened to me while watching live opera. I want to experience that feeling again.
The sounds of jazz trumpeter Chris Botti transported me to the dark spaces of Pikes Peak Center many years ago. He stood on that stage, his shiny instrument held aloft, his blonde hair shining. Like a snake charmer coaxing a reptile out of its cage, the sweet tones of the trumpet stirred tears from my parched canals.
Live well: Valentine's Day reminds us of the joy of unrequited love
Recently, I wandered through the halls of the Colorado Springs Center for the Arts at the University of Colorado and peered into a dark room where a video installation by Abdi Osman was playing on a large screen. The foreign narration combined with the footage of Venice taken from the boat drew me in and I sat spellbound.
And what are the emotions that are aroused when we watch something as incomprehensible as modern dance? I can't claim to know what the pieces meant at the recent Dance Aspen performance at the Ent Arts Center, but according to dancers I've interviewed over the years, That's not a problem. What matters is how it makes you feel. And maybe it just makes you feel that way. We can become disconnected from our emotions. Life can bring us to death. But art can bring us back to life. It stirs up emotions, even if you can't always pinpoint them.
I'm not the only one with leaking eyeballs. A 2015 study found that crying is a typical biological response that can occur when the brain encounters something it finds beautiful.
Art can cause emotional turmoil in my body, but I have yet to experience symptoms resembling a panic attack when looking at a mesmerizing painting or cathedral. But apparently some of us experience increased heart rate, chest pain, dizziness, fainting, hallucinations, and even loss of consciousness when in the presence of works of art.
Living well: A year of learning and relearning lessons.
Panic attacks caused by this beauty are known as Stendhal syndrome. No, not Stockholm Syndrome, but another theory as to why hostages sometimes develop psychological bonds with their captors. Perhaps we can merge the two and feel a strange bond to certain works of art?
Stendhal Syndrome is an intense physical and psychological condition that can be experienced as a result of viewing great art. The term was first coined in 1989 by Italian psychiatrist Graziella Magherini and is derived from the name of 19th century French writer Marie-Henri Bayle, better known by her pen name Stendhal.
In 1817, Bayle describes such an intense artistic exchange when he visited the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence, Italy. However, author Julian Barnes disputed this story in his 2008 memoir, Nothing to Be Frightened Of, after examining Bale's diary and discovering that Bale never mentioned any art-related episodes. chanted. His legs hurt and he wanted to leave Florence and catch a train to Rome.
Despite its sketchy beginnings, the syndrome became known as Florence syndrome after Magherini treated more than 100 patients at a Florence hospital who visited the city's art galleries and museums.
Live Well: Little Stories of Random Kindness
Now back to my main topic. Yes, I have. That said, sometimes I just want to talk about something that comes to mind, mostly when I'm wandering around online looking for celebrity gossip, but for the record, the beauty… There will be no tears in your eyes.
My intention is to encourage all of us to seek out art in the hopes that it will move us to tears or give us Stendhal syndrome. Although of course I don't really want anyone to have a panic attack. That's no joke. However, encountering art that moves us is a gift.
It doesn't matter if you're moved to tears or if you don't particularly like something or don't understand it. Because that experience will now live in you forever and change you into a richer person.
And if you feel dizzy after catching a glimpse of Van Gogh's “Starry Night” at New York City Museum of Art or hearing Giuseppe Verdi's “Aida” at the Metropolitan Opera, at least you'll know that. It could be more than just indigestion.
Contact the author: 636-0270
Contact the author: 636-0270
