25 nov

Austerity has something to say about form, as well as about substance. Talking about form – architecture, paintings, music – I am a man of many tastes. Maybe it is better to say I am someone without real taste.
Let’s take music. I almost always like what someone else really likes. Deep down my alltime favourite is John Sebastian Bach – today started reading in his biography ‘Music in the castle of Heaven’, by John Eliot Gardiner: fabulous book. His music is deeply suiting to me. I like the structure of the music, find it pleasing and comforting and can never get enough of it.
But the I can happily go along with Guus Meeuwis, Andre Hazes, all Carnaval music and Dolly Parton is my secret delight. I find 9 to 5 a smart song and indulge in ‘Old flame’.
And I do like Gregorian chants, of course. That is the music that comes top mind when I think of austerity, but just because the association with monks is forceful. Bach composed Baroq music – Baroq being the opposite from austerity – but the Cello Suites or the Brandenburg Concertos are splendid examples of austerity to me. Dolly Parton has nothing austere of course, although she said about herself that it was very expensive to look as cheap as she did.
In architecture I am a little more disciplined. I dislike Baroq and Rococo, am not extremely fond of Gothic churches, prefer Romanesq – although realised today again that Romanesq is also an imitation style, trying to copy the true Roman buildings of which we saw splendid one today in Nimes (see above) – but also like the modernism of Jugendstill, which is extravagant and Bauhaus, which is disciplined.
Pulling my arm I would say that I like discipline best, that’s why I liked Soulages – who really made those windows in 1994, when he was a spring chicken of not even 80 years old – and Foster. I can’t wait to see the Cistercian abbey Le Thoronet further down the Provence, we are in Nimes now. That abbey inspired Le Corbusier, who himself was an amazing architect of course with his church in Ronchamp (Lorraine) as the perfect example of a modern church.
With paintings I am a little like music, liking everything again. I prefer exhibitions over museums. The last ones are often too unfocused for my brain. But then again, I like almost every exhibition. The best ones of the past years are Anish Kapoor, David Hockney and – best of all – an exhibition of twelve of the Cathedral paintings of Monet in Rouen. The world looked a little bit differently after seeing those exhibitions. Richer. The gift from the real artist is that they make you appreciate the world more.
Ok, but then there is austerity in substance. I think it is important, but it is difficult to not become holier than St Bernard talking about it. I really think in our welfare state we do not have a clue about real austerity anymore. I always have to laugh when cutting expenses by the government – going from a 3,1% deficit to a 3,0% deficit, is called austerity. My goodness, what a nonsense.
Austerity means probably deliberately abstaining from desirable or pleasurable things. I am Calvanistic enough to think that that is a very good thing. I am catholic enough of course to give myself absolution for the moments that I fail to contain myself, a daily ritual that does not have papal approval yet, but we’re working on that.
When getting austerity in my own daily life is already problematic – loosing ones job is helpful though – to find a way for society as a whole to embrace this principle is going to be impossible. But then again, it is fun to think about it. As Gerord Lenorman sang: ‘Si j’etais president de la republique ….’ That’s what I like to ruminate about sometimes too. But than, such thoughts are not only not very useful, they are also not very humble and as well in substance as in form what austerity really needs is humbleness.