Why Beauty Matters: Roger Scruton

My earliest introduction to modern art was probably at the Wexner Center for the Arts on the Ohio State University campus. My oldest brother was a tour guide there, so we liked to visit occasionally. As a child, I was probably most interested because there were interactive "works of art". For example, one exhibit had a refrigerator that you could open and take food out of.  Other pieces had explanations that I could more or less accept. Some I just didn't bother with.
As I've grown up and visited more art galleries and museums I've come in contact with more modern art. I suppose I've never felt sure enough to say that I think it is ridiculous, but I really don't have any esteem (is that the right word?) for most of what falls into the category.
For the past few months, I've been using a book Come Look With Me to talk with my young ESL students about landscape art. I try not to tell them what to think about each painting, or to use leading questions. Several of my students are quite intelligent (I'm not just saying that because I'm their teacher.). It has been refreshing to hear their opinions of the different pieces. When we got to the more abstract pieces, I was a little afraid to criticize, because I wasn't sure how to explain my opinion of art and beauty.
Yesterday, my husband borrowed a few books from the library. One of them was a book on beauty by Roger Scruton (a modern day philosopher and writer). This afternoon I read the introduction while waiting for Joel to finish his large cappuccino at Juan Valdez. Then, since I had ironing to do when we got back to the apartment, I decided to look for something I could listen to while working. That's when I found the following video, a documentary about the same topic as the book.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RiajXQUppYY

This is not a video for children to watch.  At least not without parental guidance / editing. 
minute 16, 30 seconds of minute 26, and some starting at minute 41. 

However, for those interested in a well thought-out and clear explanation against what some people define as art, as well as a defense of beauty, I recommend that you either watch the documentary  and or read the book.

Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right

Partia on Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcSf5Tzxe1M&feature=related

1. Whate’er my God ordains is right,
Holy His will abideth.
I will be still whate’er He does,
And follow where He guideth.
He is my God,
Though dark my road.
He holds me that I shall not fall
Wherefore to Him I leave it all

2. Whate’er my God ordains is right,
He never will deceive me
He leads me by the proper path,
I know He will not leave me
I take, content,
What He hath sent
His hand can turn my griefs away
And patiently I wait His day

3. Whate’er my God ordains is right,
Though now this cup in drinking
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it all unshrinking
My God is true,
Each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart
And pain and sorrow shall depart

4. Whate’er my God ordains is right,
Here shall my stand be taken
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken
My Father’s care
Is round me there
He holds me that I shall not fall
And so to Him I leave it all

Hiding

I'm hiding, I'm hiding
And no one knows where;
For all they can see is my
Toes and my hair

And I just heard my father
Say to my mother -
"But, darling, he must be
Somewhere or other;

Have you looked in the inkwell?"
And Mother said, "Where?"
"In the INKWELL?"said Father. But
I was not there.

Then "Wait!" cried my mother —
"I think that I see
Him under the carpet." But
It was not me.

"Inside the mirror's
A pretty good place."
Said Father and looked, but saw
Only his face.

"We've hunted," sighed Mother,
"As hard as we could
And I am so afraid that we've
Lost him for good."

Then I laughed out aloud
And I wiggled my toes
And Father said —"Look, dear,
I wonder if those

Toes could be Benny's?
There are ten of them, see?"
And they WERE so surprised to find
Out it was me! 

 

~ Dorothy Keeley 

I think I remember that I was supposed to memorize this poem one year in elementary school.