Technology and Art:
Their Bearing on Modern Culture
R u d o l f S t e i n e r
A Lecture, hitherto untranslated, given at Dornach on
December 28, 1914
[From a shorthand report unrevised by the lecturer. Published
by kind permission of the Rudolf Steiner-Nachlassverwaltung, Dornach,
Switzerland.]
HE essential aim of the lectures given here recently has been to build a
bridge from knowledge yielded by Spiritual Science to a view of life
demanded by present conditions, and I should like now to say a little
more about this.
“Modern life” — as we call it —
makes a strong impact upon those who have been torn away from any
direct connection with Nature by life in cities and towns. And it is
common knowledge that ever since the onset of this modern life, men
have been apprehensive about its effect upon the material as well as
the spiritual progress of humanity.
The important thing now is that the impulses we feel
coming to us from Spiritual Science should find their place in this
modern life. We must come to feel that Spiritual Science is a
necessary counter-balance for elements in modern life that have an
injurious or even destructive effect upon the divine-spiritual
life-forces of man.
When a man who has reached, shall we say, the first
stages of initiation is in a position to allow the effects of modern
civilisation to work upon himself, he has experiences which inform
him more deeply about what this modern life signifies for the human
being than external observation can ever do. For example, anyone who
has taken even the first steps of the initiate-life lives differently
through the experience arising from a night spent in a railway train
or in a steamer — especially if the night has been slept
through. The difference between one who has reached the first steps
leading to initiation and one who has no connection whatever with it
is that in the former case the experiences become conscious; the
person realises what actually happens to him when he spends a night
in a steamer or a railway train — especially if he has been
asleep.
Naturally, the influences that play on the human
organism from such an experience are just the same in both cases. As
far as the effects upon the constitution of man are concerned, there
is no difference.
If we are to understand what is really meant by these
indications, we must remind ourselves of a familiar truth of
Spiritual Science: during sleep the Ego and astral body are outside
the physical and etheric bodies. In such circumstances, owing to
certain restrictions inevitably imposed upon us by cosmic laws, the
Ego and astral body are generally in the immediate neighbourhood of
our physical and etheric bodies, so that while we are asleep in a
railway carriage we are right inside all the hubbub, the turbulent
creakings and rumblings of the wheels and machinery of the train. It
is the same in a steamer. We are within all this turmoil; we are
caught up in these anything but musical experiences of our
environment, and even if only the preliminary steps have been taken
towards initiation, one can notice on waking from sleep how the Ego
and astral body, as they return into the physical body, bring with
them the effects of the strain and pressure caused by the mechanical
contrivances in which they were actually involved and which they
passed just before waking.
The effects of all the discordant hubbub, the jerking
and the dragging, are brought into the physical and etheric bodies,
and anyone who has ever woken up with the aftermath of what the
machinery in a steamer or a railway train has stirred up in his Ego
and astral body — anyone who has carried this over into his
waking consciousness — is fully aware how little it conforms
with what the Ego and astral body experience as the inner law and
order prevailing in the physical and etheric bodies. He really brings
with him a frightful pandemonium and tumult — a rattling,
jangling tumult — and the effect upon the etheric body is the
same as if the physical body were being crushed to pieces in a
machine. This is of course a crude simile, but you will not
misunderstand it. These things are a quite inevitable accompaniment
of modern life, and at the very outset I must utter a word of
warning, because what I am proposing to say might easily arouse a
certain hidden arrogance which is abundantly in evidence here and
there.
Naturally I say this without making the slightest
implication, either general or specific, for in speaking of such a
thing one immediately opens the way for the passing of judgments.
What I mean by this arrogance is that someone may say to himself: “I
must guard against exposing my own body to these destructive forces;
I must strictly protect myself from all the influences of modern
life, retire into a sanctum with the right surroundings and walls
painted in colours suitable for spiritual sensitivity, so that none
of the adjuncts of modern life may come into contact with my bodily
constitution.”
The last thing I want is that what I say should have
this effect. All desire to withdraw, to protect oneself from the
influences of unavoidable world-karma, emanates from weakness. But it
is Anthroposophy alone that can make the human heart and will
vigorous enough to develop the force which arms and strengthens us in
face of these influences. Any kind of advice to withdraw from modern
life, or to engage in a sort of hothouse cultivation of the spiritual
life, should never find favour in the sphere of our movement. In a
true culture of the spirit there can never be any question of such
procedure. Although it is understandable that weaker natures would
like to withdraw from modern life into communities where they will be
untouched by it, it must nevertheless be emphasised that such an
attitude is not the outcome of strength, but of weakness of the soul.
Our real task is to strengthen the soul by permeating it with the
impulses that come from Spiritual Science and spiritual research, so
that it is armed against the influences of modern life, can hold its
own in spite of all the surrounding hubbub, and be able to find its
way through the tumult and din of the Ahrimanic beings into the
spiritual-divine world.
One fact of which I have often spoken must be clearly
borne in mind. As human beings we do not sleep only by night. We
actually sleep by day as well, only the day-sleep is less noticeable
than the night-sleep. In nightly sleep, man's life of thought is
dimmed, and because in soul he lives in his thoughts he is naturally
more aware of the dimming of the life of thought during nightly
sleep. By day it is the life of will that is more wrapped in sleep,
and this sleep is not so noticeable because man is less conscious in
the life of will.
One result of this is the controversy waged among
philosophers on the subject of the freedom and unfreedom of the will.
They take no account of the fact that when they are investigating the
will they do it as day-sleepers, and being for this reason unable to
discover its real nature, they come out with a great deal of
preposterous nonsense about free will and unfree will, about
indeterminism and determinism. In fact, we are conscious of our life
of will to a very small extent indeed during the wide-open
consciousness of the day; the will sinks down into the subconscious,
into the region belonging exclusively to the astral body.
During waking life, therefore, we are also entangled in
all the tumult arising from the products of technical science
surrounding us in modern life. In nightly sleep, we sink into this
tumult more with our life of thought and feeling; in day-sleep, more
with our life of will and feeling.
*
Now this modern life, as we call it, was not always part
of the evolutionary path of mankind. It has existed, in essentials,
only since the beginning of the Fifth Post-Atlantean epoch of
civilisation. The beginning of this epoch synchronises with that of
modern life. How does external culture speak of this phenomenon?
External culture, as we know, is proud of what has been achieved. It
says, in effect: Through the whole of antiquity and the Middle Ages,
men were not capable of studying Nature in a way that could have led
to an actual science of Nature; this has been done for the first time
in our modern age. Then at last — so it is said — men
freed themselves from the old way of observing Nature and now they
study the natural world purely in the light of its abstract laws;
through knowledge of the laws of Nature, science has also succeeded
in achieving an ‘unprecedented’ mastery of the forces of
Nature. (This word, ‘unprecedented’, is very popular.)
That is modern technical science; it arises because men have come to
know the laws of Nature and are able, with the aid of these laws, to
shape matter into the machines with which in turn they work upon
Nature and upon life. So they fill modern life with products of the
mechanical arts and thus create the technical environment
characteristic of the present day. The acquisition of genuine natural
science and the mastery of Nature and her forces are therefore
achievements of our modern age.
This sort of talk is very general. But those who speak
in such terms are speaking the language of Ahriman. We will try to
translate this language of Ahriman into the true language we
endeavour to master through Spiritual Science, in which the words
have not only the meaning resulting from observation of external
Nature, but also the meaning they receive when the Cosmos is viewed
in its totality — in its manifestation as Nature and in its
spiritual life at one and the same time.
Let us think, to begin with, entirely from the external
point of view, of what happens when modern technical science is put
into application. What happens is, fundamentally, a performance that
takes place in two stages. The first stage consists in destroying
Nature's coherence. Quarries are broken up and the stones carried
away, forests are maltreated and the wood transported ... many more
examples could be given. In short, raw materials are obtained by the
destruction, the demolition, of Nature as a coherent whole. At the
second stage, what has thus been extracted from Nature and shattered
is in turn combined into mechanical devices according to the laws
that have been recognised as natural laws. These are the two stages
when the outer aspect of the matter is under consideration.
But what of the inner aspect? From earlier lectures we
know that when Nature is demolished — the mineral world first
and foremost — this demolition is associated with a certain
feeling of pleasure experienced by the elemental spirits within
Nature. We shall be less concerned with this point to-day. The
important thing is that we drive out of Nature the elemental spirits,
belonging to the sphere of the progressive Hierarchies, by which the
coherence of Nature is maintained. Elemental spiritual beings are
present throughout Nature, and when we demolish Nature we drive out
the nature-spirits into the sphere of the spiritual. This is always
part of the first stage. We demolish physical Nature and thereby
release the nature-spirits, chasing them as it were out of the sphere
assigned to them by the Jahve-Gods into the realm where they can flit
around in freedom and are no longer shackled to their allotted
habitation.
The first stage can therefore also be called: Eviction
of the nature-spirits. The second stage is when we put together,
according to accepted natural laws, what has been extracted from,
hacked out of, Nature. When in accordance with a recognised law of
Nature, we construct a machine or a system of machinery out of raw
materials, we again transfer certain spiritual beings into what is
thus produced.
A construction of this kind is by no means devoid of
spirit. In producing it we create a soil for other spiritual beings,
and the spiritual beings we have now enticed into our machinery
belong to the hierarchy of Ahrimanic spirits. In the first stage,
therefore, we come upon the nature-spirits which are continually
evolving, and drive them forth; in the second stage we unite the
Ahrimanic spirits with the mechanical constructions or other products
of technical science.
But this procedure in the modern age, when we live in a
milieu of applied technology, means that we create a thoroughly
Ahrimanic environment for what is asleep in us alike by night and by
day. No wonder that when someone who has reached the first stage of
initiation brings back with him on waking the effects of what he has
lived through amid the hubbub and clatter, he feels it as a
destructive element when in his Ego and astral body he comes down
into the etheric and physical bodies. For he brings back with him
into his very organism the effects of his association with the
Ahrimanic elemental spirits. In this third stage, the cultural stage,
we cram ourselves through and through with Ahrimanic spirits as the
result of the technical science in application around us. That is the
inner aspect of the matter.
We will turn now from what we have thus come to know
about the occult side of modern life to those earlier times when
man's life was such that in sleep he was separated from Nature only
by veils easily penetrable in the spirit, while by day he worked in a
Nature that was still the habitation of the good spirits of the
Jahve-Hierarchy. In those times the souls of men — Ego and
astral body — brought into the etheric and physical bodies
nature-spirits and nature-forces which quickened the inner life of
soul. And the farther back we go in the history of the evolution of
humanity, the more do we find a state of things that is nowadays
becoming steadily rarer. Men did not in those days fill themselves
with the Ahrimanic spirits living in the products of technical
science, but with the normally progressing nature-spirits which —
if one may put it so — the good Spirits of the Hierarchies have
united with all the processes and activities of external Nature.
Now man can reach the position he must occupy if he is
to be truly Man only by seeking for it in his inner life, by being
able to descend so far into the depths of his soul that he there
finds the forces which unite him with the spiritual realities of the
Cosmos in which he is embedded. He can be, and indeed already has
been, severed from these cosmic realities through sense-perception
and intellectual thinking, and now also, as we have seen, because
modern life crams him through and through with Ahrimanic spirits.
It is only by descending into the depths of his own
inner life that man comes into connection with the divine-spiritual
Beings who work for his good, the normally evolving Beings of the
spiritual Hierarchies. This coming together with the spiritual
Hierarchies for whom we have in truth been spiritually born, this
community with them, is rendered very much more difficult for man by
the fact that the world is becoming more and more steeped in the
milieu created by modern technical science. Man is as it were torn
out of the spiritual-cosmic setting, and the forces he must unfold in
order to be linked with the spirit-and-soul of the Cosmos are stifled
and suppressed within him.
Therefore one who has already taken the first steps on
the way to initiation perceives that everything which permeates
modern life in the form of machinery and the like presses into the
life of the human spirit-and-soul in such a way that a great deal is
killed, destroyed. And he becomes aware that this destruction makes
it particularly hard for him to develop those inner forces which
bring him into connection with the lawful — please do not
misunderstand the word — the lawful spiritual Beings of the
Hierarchies.
If while in a railway carriage or steamer someone who
has taken the first steps towards initiation wants to find his way
into the spiritual world in meditation, he naturally makes efforts to
develop the power of vision and seership which will bear him thither;
but he perceives how the Ahrimanic world fills him with everything
that opposes this striving to reach the spiritual world, and the
battle then waged is intensely fierce. It is an inner battle,
producing in the etheric body an experience of being crushed, hacked
to pieces. Naturally, those who have taken no steps on the way to
initiation are also involved in this battle, the only difference
being that those who have taken these steps are consciously aware of
what is happening. Everybody is obliged to undergo the battle; in its
effects it is experienced by everybody. There would be no greater
fallacy than to say: We must rebel against what technical science has
brought to us in modern life, we must protect ourselves from Ahriman,
we must withdraw from this modern life.
In a certain respect such an attitude would be an
indication of spiritual cowardice. The real remedy lies, not in
allowing the forces of the soul to weaken and to withdraw from modern
life, but in so strengthening these forces that its pandemonium can
be endured. World-karma demands a courageous attitude to modern life,
and that is why genuine Spiritual Science calls at the very outset
for effort, really strenuous effort on the part of the human soul.
One hears it said so often: The literature of Spiritual
Science available to us is written in such a difficult style; it
demands such effort and such intense development of the forces of the
soul if any real headway is to be made. “Well-meaning”
people — the adjective in inverted commas — are always
coming forward with the suggestion that difficult passages should be
simplified for their fellow-men; they want to trivialise — this
I say without inverted commas — what is written in a
rather difficult style.
But it is of the very essence of Spiritual Science that
activity should be demanded of the soul; that Spiritual Science
should not be easy to master. For in Spiritual Science it is not a
matter merely of absorbing what is said about one thing or another,
but of how things are absorbed — by dint of effort and
activity of the soul. What Spiritual Science has to offer must be
assimilated with sweat of the brow. That is a sine qua non in
the whole business — forgive the colloquialism.
To try to escape from the difficult concepts and ideas
presented in Spiritual Science indicates that its very essence has
been misunderstood. And how many there are who try to escape ...
how many prefer to dream (the Lord giveth to His own in sleep!), how
many would far rather let things be conjured before them in all kinds
of dream-images of the spiritual world than acquire knowledge through
activity and effort of the soul. We know well that many people are
much happier to have some kind of visionary experience than to
grapple with difficult chapters of Spiritual Science in a book that
can speak to those forces in the human soul which in ordinary daily
life are wrapt in slumber, that kindles to life what is otherwise
unconscious in man and so transports him into the living reality of
the spiritual world.
To face the waking life of day with dullness and
lethargy, to linger in vague obscurities, is not the right way; the
right way is to strive with activity of soul to follow and master the
development of the thoughts and ideas presented in Spiritual Science.
For when we grasp these trains of thoughts and ideas by dint of bold,
determined effort, we reach the stage where mere theorising, mere
cogitation and intellectual acceptance of what they contain, change
into vision — and we are actually within the spiritual world.
But a real understanding of modern life makes it evident that through
the milieu of applied technical science we pass into an Ahrimanic
sphere and allow ourselves to be filled with Ahrimanic spirituality.
*
The most terrible catastrophe would have befallen
earth-evolution if in earlier times provision had not been made in
advance for what, in accordance with world-karma, modern humanity is
bound to experience under the sway of this Ahrimanic spirituality.
Life proceeds, by necessity, in a perpetual pendulum swing. It swings
out to one side or the other, like a pendulum. Nobody can say with
truth that he is protecting himself from Ahriman, for there are no
means whereby he could do so. And if anyone were to long to retire
permanently into a sanctum with suitably coloured walls, as far away
as possible from anything like a factory or a railway, and thus
withdraw completely from modern life — even so there are many
other ways whereby the Ahrimanic spirituality can be led into his
soul. He may tear himself away from modern life, but modern
spirituality finds access to him nevertheless.
The catastrophe has been warded off from human evolution
by something of which I spoke in a lecture-course at Munich.
[The Secrets of the Threshold.
Lecture VI. (August, 1913.)]
All these things must be taken together, for that too is necessary if
modern Spiritual Science is to become living reality. Mankind has
been given art — art which also draws its raw materials
from Nature, pulverises them, and at the second stage assembles them
together again into a new creation, breathing into it a certain life,
even if only an imaged life. This life, given by the art-impulses of
the past, is adapted to permeate the things of the material world
with a spirituality of a more Luciferic character — with
“beautiful semblance”; whatever works upon man in the
form of art leads him out of the material into the spiritual, but by
way of the material life. Lucifer is the Spirit who wants always to
flee from the material and transport man in an unlawful way into the
spiritual life. That is the other swing of the pendulum. It is only
because in the present incarnation we are obliged to live in the
milieu created by technical science that it is possible to come into
connection with the Ahrimanic spirituality, into connection with what
in earlier incarnations could be submerged in a more essentially
artistic element. In this way we set over against certain Luciferic
forces the Ahrimanic forces of to-day, and so we establish a balance,
whereas formerly the pendulum of life swung now to the one side, now
to the other.
Spiritual Science must necessarily desire that men
should not live through in the drowsiness of sleep and dream what
world-karma ordains for them. Those who do not want to know anything
of Spiritual Science sleep and dream their way through all the
influences of Ahrimanic and Luciferic life. They are exposed to these
influences and to their effects, although they are entirely unaware
of it.
But life cannot make progress along these lines. It can
make progress only if there is consciousness of these things,
and the purpose of Spiritual Science is to ensure that men shall not
make their way through the world in the drowsiness of sleep and
dream, but shall be aware of the nature of the environment in which
they are living.
*
This also requires attentiveness to subtle distinctions
used in presenting Spiritual Science. These subtle distinctions are
often unheeded, as I know when I read transcripts of lectures I have
given. I find that points I regard as important often do not appear
in the transcripts. To take an example from something I said a moment
or two ago: I used a sentence in which I said that Spiritual Science
“must necessarily desire” — not “desires”
— something. That is a turn of phrase which comes quite
naturally and spontaneously to one who speaks out of the essence of
Spiritual Science; for Spiritual Science leads as a matter of course
to a more impersonal grasp of the truths of spiritual life than the
other sciences do. Speaking in the style of the other sciences, one
would say: Spiritual Science “desires” or “wants”
this or that. Spiritual Science itself speaks of what it must
necessarily desire. And I say: this is how I am bound to
express such-and-such a thing; not, this is how I express it.
There is a very great deal in subtle distinctions such
as these and they should not be overlooked. We must begin to be
convinced that Spiritual Science reaches into the innermost forces of
the human soul and is also able to transform them; hence it is
unfitting to approach Spiritual Science with the same kind of
thinking that is customary in external life. There is really very
little consciousness of the things I am referring to here, as can be
observed from certain glaring symptoms in the procedures of ordinary
science and scholarship.
Here is one example from many that could be given.
Modern theology, irreligious theology, has taken particular pride in
having discovered certain similarities between sayings and precepts
in the New Testament and sayings and precepts in the Old Testament
and in Pagan religions.
[Cf. J. M. Robertson,
Christianity and Mythology, Part III,
“The Gospel Myths,” pp.
415-21. See also Rudolf Steiner's lecture on
“Apollonius of Tyana,”
printed in
Anthroposophical Quarterly,
Vol. 3, No. 1 (Spring, 1958).]
For example, the origin of each
separate sentence in the Lord's Prayer has been traced back, and it
is said: this particular sentence is already to be found here, this
other sentence there, and so on. ... At first hearing this may seem
plausible; but the moment we approach the Mystery of Golgotha in the
light of a spiritual contemplation of world-history, we realise that
all these things have a new setting. What is important is not the
discovery that all the sentences were already there in an earlier
age, but to realise that the circumstances in which they were uttered
give them a new shade of meaning. This shade of meaning is always
different in the Old Testament and the New Testament. What came to
pass through the Mystery of Golgotha takes effect in very subtle,
intimate ways. The words themselves are often still the same, the
verbal sequence, too; but the nuances and shades of meaning are
different. That is the essential point.
There is tremendous significance, for example, in the
fact that in the development of language the Ego-concept, the concept
of ‘I’, is entirely different — more and more
different the farther back we go into pre-Christian ages — from
what it afterwards became, in the time from the Mystery of Golgotha
onwards. The way of giving expression to the ‘I’ changes,
as can be perceived in the very configuration of language. For
example, when the ‘I’ in many languages is part of the
verb itself, this is an entirely different matter from when it is
separated from the verb and uttered separately.
The important thing is that we should work our way
through Spiritual Science to an understanding of life, that we should
reach the stage of consciously perceiving the influences brought to
bear upon our human constitution of spirit, soul, and body. The
relation between man and his mechanised environment, as I described
it just now, is of course only in its initial stages. The conditions
prevailing to-day began to develop about four centuries ago. And the
19th century, with all its pride of achievement, made a tremendous
stride in this Ahrimanic infiltration of human life. But in the
future, too, great strides will be taken in the same direction. We
have been involved in the process for some four hundred years; it
takes effect by slow degrees, and to-day it has already reached a
certain peak for all those people — and they are numerous among
our contemporaries — who as the result of segregation in towns
and cities have hardly any connection left with the true
nature-spirits. I once said as a figure of speech that to be able to
distinguish oats from barley is essential for a man's evolution. But
there are many town and city dwellers to-day who cannot do so. They
may perhaps be able to distinguish the grown plants, because that is
easy in the case of oats and barley, but they cannot distinguish the
seeds.
Now the process of evolution is such that whenever a
step forward is taken, this advance is always linked with another
experience which occurs at another stage, as it were, of a parallel
stream. And this has actually happened. In coming nearer to Ahriman
as the result of the mechanisation of life, modern man has come
nearer to Ahriman in still another way. When the crude conception of
history engendered by materialism is replaced by a spiritual
conception of history, what Spiritual Science has to say about this
subject will certainly be understood.
In the age prior to the last four centuries, not only
was man's relation to his surroundings different from what it is
to-day, but he was quite differently related to something that comes
to manifestation actually in himself: he was related in a different
way to his speech, his language.
Speech is by no means only what modern materialistic
science conceives it to be; in speech there is something that is
connected in many ways with a realm of not fully conscious human
experiences, something that takes place in the subconscious regions
and therefore teems with spiritual beings. Spiritual beings live and
are active in human speech, and when man formulates words, elemental
spiritual beings press into them. On the wings of words, spiritual
beings fly through the area where men are conversing with one
another. That is why it is so important to pay attention to certain
subtleties of speech, and not to give way to the arbitrariness of
passions and emotions when speaking.
Right on into the 15th/16th centuries, man's connection
with his speech was such that he still had some living experience of
the elemental spirituality in speech. He perceived something of this
elemental spirituality which was still actively at work, for in many
respects speech is more ingenious, more spiritual in fact, than the
individual human being. Even to-day it can sometimes be noticed how
men slip from the materialistic frame of mind into a feeling of the
ingenious spirituality of speech and language.
I once gave a very clear, though simple, example of how,
through his inner feeling, men can depart from the role played by
materialism in the present age. This still happens with many people,
but they are not actually conscious of it. When, for example,
somebody journeying along the Rhine speaks of the “ancient
Rhine,” what does he mean by this? Surely such an expression
must be prompted by some kind of feeling. But what does he exactly
mean? I hardly think that when people speak of the “ancient
Rhine” they can be thinking of the river-bed, the indentation
in the earth, which would be the only permanent feature — but
what else the “ancient Rhine” is supposed to be, nobody
knows, for the water is certainly entirely new; it is flowing onwards
all the time, and if, apart from the river-bed, you try to find
something that is ancient ... well, you will not be able to find it.
The “ancient Rhine” ... speech is more ingenious than
man, for naturally what speech indicates here, although men are not
conscious of it, is the River God of the Rhine. The elemental being
belonging to the Rhine is quite adequately designated by the
expression the “ancient Rhine.”
That is only a simple example. Speech is full of this
spirituality, of this belief in spirituality. And a feeling —
at least for this connection with spirituality through speech —
still lay in the nature of the human soul in all the peoples of
Europe during the Fourth Post-Atlantean epoch of civilisation and on
into the modern age, into the 15th and 16th centuries.
If this is not perceived, there can be no true feeling
for the opening of the Gospel of St. John: “In the
Beginning-was the Word.” This sentence was born of the
consciousness that through the word as a power in the whole human
organism and in human life, man is connected — in the first
place through elemental spirituality — with the world lying
behind the world of the senses.
When with the means afforded by Spiritual Science we
study life in the Middle Ages and on into modern times, we find, if
we can look into men's souls, that their relation to speech was quite
different during the Fourth Post-Atlantean epoch, even in its final
phase which lasted into the 14th or 15th century. Men still heard
undertones, actual undertones, in every word and utterance. No
credence is given to this to-day because the spoken word is heard as
physical sound only. But until the 14th or 15th century something
spiritual resounded together with the spoken sound, rather as though
the same sound was reverberating in a lower octave. So when man spoke
or heard others speaking, something as yet undifferentiated in one
language or another sounded forth, something having a universal human
quality. One can say: Now that the separate languages are in full
flower, they are experienced as a kind of sound-vibration in the ear,
and the sound is experienced as something that carries meaning. In
earlier times it was different: speech was bathed in an element that
resounded in and together with it, and was not differentiated into
separate languages.
The
boundary between the two forms of experience was established during
the 15th/16th century. Humanity was wrested away from the genii of
speech.
Without
enquiring into this silencing of the undertones once heard in speech,
nobody can understand the jolt that was given to humanity during the
15th, 16th, and 17th centuries. Something of real significance was
then lost to man. In the very events of the times — whether
warlike or peaceable — it was a factor in everything
experienced by the human soul prior to these centuries, when the
undertones in speech were still perceived. Hence the whole of history
before this period has a different stamp from that of later history.
In the study of Spiritual Science, spiritual ears must be trained to
detect how completely the ring of events even in the Middle Ages
differed from that of events to-day, because the souls of men
responded in a quite different way to the experiences then available
to them.
As
an example, I will single out the Crusades as an experience in the
souls of men. In the form in which they took their course in the
Middle Ages they are conceivable only when it is realised that the
spiritual undertones in speech were an immediate reality. The cry
that rang out from Clermont
[From the Council of Clermont, 1095.],
“It is God's Will”, “Dieu le
veut,” would certainly not have the effect upon the men of
Middle and Western Europe to-day that it had upon the men of the
Middle Ages. But this can be understood only in the light of what has
just been said.
A
significant phenomenon in modern civilisation is also connected with
this — indeed, the whole configuration of modern history is
connected with it. Try to let this factor of the intimate experience
of the undertones in speech flow into your conception of history and
then you will discover why, during the period indicated, new
groupings are formed among the nationalities of Europe. Previously,
these nationalities had quite different relations with one another,
and in establishing these relations they were prompted by quite
different impulses. How the single nationalities form alliances in
particular territories of Europe, how they are grouping themselves to
this day — all this is connected with impulses upon which an
entirely false interpretation is placed if — going backwards
from the present time — the birth of the nations is sought in
the Middle Ages or in antiquity without taking account of the fact
that a momentous step was inevitable in the life of the human soul.
*
In raising subjects which really call for many lectures,
I can give indications only. The most important thing of all must be
left to your own meditation, which will discover to what such
intimations can lead. What I should like to have achieved is to have
given some idea of how the bridge can be built from Spiritual Science
to vision and understanding of life; of how Spiritual Science can
lead us consciously to a sure footing amid the realities of the
modern world.
When the true foundations of these matters are
indicated, it will be quite evident that this modern age of ours
needs a great deal that must act as an impulse of renewal over
against the old. If world-karma places us to-day in a strongly
Ahrimanic milieu, so that we must strengthen our forces of soul in
order to find the path into the spiritual world through all the
obstacles presented by this Ahrimanic spirituality, the soul needs
means of support different from those available in former times. And
this is connected with the fact that art, too, must take
different paths in all its branches.
To souls less exposed to Ahrimanic influences, art was
bound to appeal differently than it can do to modern souls who are
far more vulnerable to them. With our Building,
[The first Goetheanum.]
the aim has been to take the very first
steps — nothing even remotely approaching perfection but the
very first steps — towards a new form of art. The attempt that
has been made to create in this Building an art calling for activity
on the part of the soul is connected with the whole conception we
must have of modern life — but it must be a spiritual
conception. Recall to your minds the shockingly homely simile I used
a few weeks ago in reference to the Building. I said: “How does
the effect that should be made by our Building compare with that made
by earlier buildings, by ancient works of art in general?”
An ancient work of art made its effect through its forms
and colours; the forms and colours in the space they occupied worked
upon the eye; the colours on the wall areas produced the impression.
I said that in our Building it is not meant to be so, but that our
Building — and here comes the shockingly homely simile —
is intended to be rather like a cake-mould which is not there for its
own sake but for the cake's sake. The point is that what is inside
the mould is given shape, and when the mould is empty, it is obvious
that it has been there for some purpose — namely, for the cake.
What the mould makes of the cake — that is the real point. And
in respect of our Building, the thing of importance is what the soul
experiences in its deepest foundations when, lingering in this
Building, it flows out to the boundaries of the forms.
So the work of art is brought to life entirely through
the influence of the forms. This, in fact, is the work of art: not
the Building itself, but the experience induced in the soul by
the forms of the Building as the soul flows around them. The work of
art is, as it were, the cake; the Building is simply the mould. And
that is why we had to try to work according to an entirely new
principle.
The painting, too, that will be found in the Building
will not be there in order to make its effect as painting —
as was the case in earlier art, but so that the soul's experience,
when it encounters the (impact of the painting, may itself become a
work of art. A transformation is thereby brought about — I can
merely hint at these things — the transformation of an old into
a new principle of art which can be designated by saying: When
carried to a further stage, the plastic-pictorial element becomes a
kind of musical experience. And there is also the opposite
direction: from the musical to the plastic-pictorial.
These are not matters arbitrarily created by the human
soul; they are connected with the innermost impulses that are our lot
in the first third of the Fifth Post-Atlantean epoch. These things
are ordained for us by the spiritual Beings who guide and direct this
phase of evolution.
A beginning must everywhere be made. When people come
and find much that is imperfect in our Building, they may rest
assured that those who are actually working there will find many more
imperfections than the critics find — many, many more.
Expression will have to be given to things that entirely escape
anyone who is merely an onlooker. But leaving that aside, the
important point is that a beginning shall be made, as is the case
when anything at all is to be achieved. It is not a matter of
the degree of perfection with which we can express what we have to
aim at, but of doing, of making an actual beginning with, the
things that must here be brought to life — great though the
imperfections are bound to be. Everything new that comes into the
world is imperfect by comparison with the enduring achievements of
the past. These are in full flower, and the new is still in infancy —
that is of course quite obvious.
In the lecture to-morrow
[Art in the Light of Mystery-Wisdom.],
I will start from this theme of
renewing a truly artistic conception of the world and its connection
with the cultural life of to-day.
Translated by Dorothy Osmond
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