just wondering... about rainbows

For the past few weeks or so, I’ve been dipping into this great book called Wonder, the Rainbow and the Aesthetics of Rare Experiences (Philip Fischer, 1998). Although somehow, the gathering of my thoughts on the topic has been eluding me.

And then this afternoon, after a dull rainy day, I looked out of my window and saw the most glorious light. That slightly ethereal, rosy tinted glow from low rays of sunlight breaking through dark violet clouds. I rushed outside, and climbed onto the roof, just in time to glimpse the fading end of a rainbow beyond the rooftops, below a dense cloud. It was wonderful.


 
So now I’m re-inspired to pick up the book (and gather some thoughts.)

Fisher argues that for an event to trigger an experience of wonder, it has to be short enough in duration that we don’t get bored by it, but long enough for it to be “an experience”. It has to occur at intervals far apart enough that we don’t get used to it and are surprised when it happens, but also occur at intervals close enough for us to recognise it and give it a name. He uses the rainbow as the ideal example of this. A rainbow is sudden, unexpected and transient; rare, but common enough to be recognised; and aesthetically pleasurable. (p. 33-35)

I’m really interested in what he writes about rainbows and subjectivity. A rainbow only exists when there is an observer; he likens it to a horizon line. “On an uninhabited planet there would continue to be sun and rain, stars, and snow, but there would be no rainbow and no horizon.” (p . 37) Both depend on an observer, in fact, are produced by the observer. And no two viewers see the same rainbow. The angle between sun, water droplets, reflection and observer is always different, determined by their spatial position. (For another person standing beside you, the red in the rainbow is reflected off a different water drop.) Which is why the rainbow always moves away as you try to get closer, and why it is impossible to see where it might reach the ground.
(Although, strangely, this photo seems to contradict that)

This reminds me of Spencer Finch’s work, Rainbow (Brooklyn) 2001. After briefly glimpsing a rainbow between tunnels while riding the subway, he determined where the ends of the rainbow would have touched the ground, and then photographed these prosaic locations.


 
Image of p.97-97 from What Time is it on the Sun?

I think this is one of the best examples of his work dealing with the intrinsic subjectivity of experience. He shows that this moment of wonder can’t actually be shared, and can never be represented in an adequate way. It will always fall short in subsequent remembrance, retelling and representation. It is something all his work addresses, with his repeated attempts to recreate the colour of the sky or the temperature of the light in numerous locations (Sky (Over Roswell, New Mexico, 5/5/00, Dusk), 2000; Sunset (South Texas, 6/21/03), 2003; Sunlight in an Empty Room (Passing Cloud for Emily Dickinson, Amherst, MA, August 28, 2004), 2004; etc.) in order to immerse the gallery viewer in a reproduction of his initial experience. Although these works are usually linked to specific historical events and significant places, in the attempts at re-presentation, they become somehow more romantic (or even kitsch) than the actual experience ever is. (I’m not certain why this is... possibly because they depend on an idea or a description to relay their meaning, or maybe the historical context gives them an added romanticism?) It begs the question, should these experiences of wonder ever be diluted through representation? I suppose this is what Finch’s work shows us: the inherent futility of ever recollecting or recreating a subjective experience. But in Finch’s case, aware that it isn’t ‘real’, we marvel at the re-presentation – the precise measurements involved, the ingenuity of the construction, the realism of the effect, etc., and perhaps not so much at the represented experience in itself. Maybe this is how it could create a new and different experience of wonder?

Almost all of Finch’s work involves visual experience, and interestingly Fischer also relates wonder primarily to visual experience: “wonder is a relation to the visible world. Wonder is the outcome of the fact that we see the world” (p. 17) His reasons are that the visual is instantaneous and wonder is not something that develops over time, rather it depends on an element of surprise, an involuntary, aesthetic experience. Something purely visual is devoid of narration, or a sequence of details. (p. 22) Accordingly, visual art is more conducive to an experience of wonder than perhaps music or film or literature. “Syntax and grammar are the enemies of wonder” (p. 22), but he notes that poetry, by bypassing these conventions, can present a juxtaposition of words as images, leading to the same kind of surprise as a visual experience. (Although, perhaps that also has something to do with the preference for the visual above other senses in our society and our evolution? As well as the obvious relation between the aesthetics and the visual?)

So, by this definition, wonder is something that cannot be experienced in the everyday - it must be rare. He asks: what does the ordinary feel like? And concludes that there can’t really be an experience of the ordinary (it is the normal, unconscious state – but of course a state necessary for an experience of wonder). Things are only really visible when they are taken out of the ordinary, when they are displaced and become unexpected. Wonder, according to Descartes “is the act of noticing with pleasure something new and unprecedented”, in which noticing itself is a source of pleasure. (p. 20)

But wonder isn’t something that is only emotional, or anti-intellectual; Fisher’s thesis is that in fact the opposite is true, that wonder leads to thought. To thoughts of how and why, the beginnings of science and philosophy (p. 38); it is an active state (an intellectual activity), not the passive one it is often seen as. (p. 40) But it isn't a deliberate seeking out, it’s something which strikes us suddenly, with an “Ah!” which only after this initial moment gives way to curiosity and questioning, the basis of thought. Fisher says that this transition from the initial “Ah!” moment of wonder to thought, does not end the wonder, but “sets off a chain of experience built on ever repeated, small-scale repetitions of the experience of wonder.” It is “the very core of energy that makes up each moment of thought.” (p. 40) Which I think is quite palpable in Finch’s work; the fleeting experience of the rainbow began a process of analysing and thinking, which led him to discover where it might have begun and ended, from his viewing position on the train.

But with all these definitions of what constitutes an experience of wonder, maybe it is too defined? What about natural phenomena or other events which don’t quite fit those criteria? Things like fog, sunsets, condensation, reflections, little whirlwinds in autumn leaves, lightning and thunderstorms, snow, or even something like watching a plant grow. Can they still elicit a degree of wonder? I think so, though maybe we have to be more attuned to those experiences, to be actively aware of our surroundings, without looking for anything in particular. And maybe it also has to do with the situation and the person experiencing, as well as what is experienced. Fischer talks about echoes in the same class as rainbows, but also in a metaphorical way, of the echoes between two disparate (perhaps ordinary) things making a connection and creating wonder; for example, looking at a drop of dew on a leaf and relating it to the drop of water in the rainbow. (p. 101) There is a dislocation from the ordinary happening there, through the context in which it is viewed. Maybe this is what happens when we experience a great work of art? He touches on this, but I think I’ll have to ponder it more, later.

Somehow, writing about it like this seems to miss the actual experience of wonder. I don’t think it’s something that can be analysed and dissected, though it may indeed trigger new thoughts.

Now it’s raining again.


 
Images of a rainbow over the Yarra river, 24/04/09