Image: Opposites Attract, courtesy of Doctor Swan

Editor’s note: this article was originally sent to me as an email-reply to my previous article “The Law of Balance“. I asked the author (Lughan, a fascinating and talented artist - most famous for being my Mum) if she would be comfortable with me translating it from our native Spanish and then publishing it in this space. Luckily for us she agreed. The effort to translate & edit her original letter is now finished and ready for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

- The crazy Colombian

The best lessons come from experiences

I was intrigued by your treatment of opposites in your article ‘The Law of Balance‘, so I decided to send you this letter. Although you approach the topic from a different perspective than mine, I found a lot of common ground with some of the values & principles that I have embraced throughout my life. In my opinion, the polarity that arises from opposite ends of the spectrum is constant within our human condition; I have therefore devoted some time to studying it and understanding it.

All my studies and teachings on this topic were mere concepts until the summer of 1989, when I experienced the Law of Opposites (a corollary to the law of Balance) during my second concert-exhibition in Bogota, Colombia. Before I get to that story, I would like to share some of the events that preceded that important moment in my life.

The evolution of art into the 21st century

From a very early age I learned to play the piano, and I gave my first professional concert on April of 1986. Despite my extensive training, I soon realised I needed more than just music to thrive as an artist, so I started experimenting with other media. I wrote (fiction as well as non-fiction); took some lessons in how to paint; and learned to sculpt. Throughout this period, I also experimented with watercolours, mixed media, and teaching (I gave art history lessons for adults at my local community centre).

At some point in this journey, I reflected on the lack of multi-dimensional perspectives present on most traditional forms of art. Some would argue this is false. After all, all painters use techniques in perspective that will make any painting feel three-dimensional. Similarly, audiophiles will argue that music is sensed three-dimensionally when experienced at a concert hall , as opposed to the more two-dimensional experience we have while listening it through our iPods. Yet most artists confine themselves to one medium, and develop deep expertise on it. It is this deep specialisation that leads to what I call one-dimensionality.

With this in mind, I started asking myself some tough questions: Can an artist be good enough across a couple of disciplines to create an enriching and truly multi-media artistic experience? What would happen if I put in a painting my emotional reaction to the music I play in the piano? There was no other way to know but to give it a try. I always had told my son that I would love for him to become an astronaut, and explore the depths of space no one else has ever touched. In a way, I saw myself playing an equivalent role; the lonely artist that would explore the depths of mixing vastly different arts such as music, painting, and sculpture.

After about a year of trial and error I felt I was ready to perform in front of a public, and my first concert-exhibition was scheduled for the 16th of April, 1986 in my native Bogota.

So what exactly is a concert-exhibition?

It is a multi-art experience that is hinged around two traditional artistic performances: A concert and an exhibition. In my case, the concert came in the form of a piano recital, during which I used a slide-projector (yes, the old-fashioned type!) to show photos of the paintings or sculptures that were inspired by my feelings whilst performing that particular piece. The exhibition came in two shapes: the aforementioned display of photo-slides during the concert (call it a preview of the real thing); and a formal exhibition of my art after the concert was finished.

At the age of 41 I was a concert-exhibition virgin. That all changed that year when I performed 27 pieces composed by Schumann, Debussy and Villalobos. After receiving encouragement from my audience, I decided to repeat this type of concert three years later. On this second occasion I performed the 24 preludes by Chopin, and a series of 24 paintings inspired in each of those musical masterpieces.

Chopin’s 24 preludes: A study of polarity by a timeless musician

Why did I choose these pieces by Chopin for my second concert-exhibition? Part of it was due to the fact that of the 24 pieces, exactly half are dynamic, light, and written in an open mood; whilst the other half are darker, sometimes very quiet and at times very agressive, but always dramatic. Interestingly, the order of the 24 preludes makes it a unit in which a light piece is followed by a dark piece, which is then followed by a light piece, and so on. Actually the 24 preludes were composed in the 24 keys that exist in music, and the 12 major keys correspond to the lighter pieces whereas the 12 minor keys correspond to the dramatic ones. The pattern Chopin established (thus emphasizing human polarity with music) was that of a major scale followed by a minor scale, and so on.

On this basis, I painted 24 landscapes, of which 12 were full of light and movement, and the other 12 were dramatic in different ways. A part of me resonated strongly with this polarity, as I felt through this collection of music & painting that I was exploring the entirety of my soul, from my darkest thoughts and moments, to my happiest ones.

A difficult lesson

After the concert was completed, we (as usual) invited the audience to enjoy the original paintings on an exhibition hall adjunct to the concert hall. It was in these moments that my big learning arrived. I was surprised (almost hurt) by people’s reactions. In truth I should not have been surprised, but reality is that I was taken back dramatically.

What was the public’s reaction? They all loved the 12 pieces that were full of light and movement; yet at the same time they rejected (in quite strong ways) the darker pieces. Having approached the painting of the landscapes as an exercise on self-portraiture, I was deeply hurt by both the comments and the buying patterns of my audience. To some extent, I felt rejected, abandoned, lonely. Their simplistic reactions showed me that no one had really understood how much of my soul I had put into them. They ALL were self-portraits; and the rejection of half of my paintings made me feel like they only accepted me when I was at my best; and rejected me when I was not.

It was at this time that I truly realised the reality of the Law of Opposites. I understood why is it so hard for us to find love; to find happiness whilst living in a different country with a different culture; or to develop deep, long-lasting friendships. We often fall in love with the lighter side of people: the happy boyfriend; the compassionate husband; the devoted lover. It is only human to fall in love with those characters, as they are easy to love. Yet when the same person suddenly morphs into the opposite, we find it difficult to accept that it is the same person, and we start questioning our love. It is unavoidable that we will suddenly experience a moment when our partner is at the depths of his depression; at the height of his anger; or in the middle of a confusing moment that may lead him astray; and it is in these moments that we reject him for what he did to us. And in that split second, we decide that we can not love that person anymore.

Yet for us to find true love, we need to accept that our partner will be full of contradictions; that we will experience both his lighter and his darker side. For us to find true love, we need to appreciate his positive traits, whilst accepting his negative ones. To find true love, it is essential to communicate our appreciation for the good things our partner does for us, whilst constructively explaining the impact that have those not-so-good things he often does without even realising that he hurt us.

It is not hard then to see that it is in this balanced appreciation and acceptance of all aspects of our partners’ self that True Love finds its source; that as long as we continue to judge other people, other countries, other cultural, social, political, or religious groups from a perspective of polarity (”I am right, you are wrong”), we will continue to fail in creating a better world for our children.

It is not surprising that after this epiphany, my next artistic experience was to write a book. Can you guess the title? Go here* to find out.

*Disclaimer: If you follow the Amazon link above and purchase the book, the owner of this blog will receive a small portion from the sales of the book via the Amazon Associate program; your support of our efforts to keep this magazine free are greatly appreciated!