so goes the first line of a shaker song largely known only to that community of faithful theretofore until aaron copeland sampled its melodic hook in one of his famous ballet music.
leafing through the catalog of the met’s much underrated deccan art exhibit, i was smitten by one of the photographs by a venetian architect turned photographer. bleached by the elements to its elemental outlines, a stone relief shows a mythical lion lording over a parade of wimpy elephants. and because this image is not enough, nature decided to grow a clump of green-gold vegetation on top of where the lion’s head was. this weed-mane, i imagine, would grizzle in the wind.
to be simple, these days, has become an unassailable mantra with the art and design set much to my dismay. growing up in the verdant tropics, i never thought any other form of aesthetics was valid other than that of inordinateness and excess.