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Luxferity, 01.07.2024
A natural story
Since Antiquity, and certainly well before, clouds have aroused the interest of men, particularly that of philosophers.
Aristotle, in his treatise on Meteorology, associates clouds with winds, lightning, thunder but also comets, shooting stars and the Milky Way.
In the 12th century, called «naked», the cloud was perceived from a theological perspective as «the mystical cloud» or «veil of God». From a scientific point of view, its nature is still debated. Black clouds are, thus, called “rain vessels”.
From the 19th century, scientists tried to classify clouds and published various works, which are still a reference today.
On the ground, the clouds are called «mist» or «fog», but as soon as they rise, they take on scholarly names: altocumulus, cirrostratus, vertebratus...
As far as the artistic field is concerned, clouds are present in the romantic movement, like Caspar David Friedrich and his painting The Traveler contemplating a sea of clouds, by the very famous British painter William Turner, but also by Victor Hugo, with his “ghostly watercolors”.
John Constable, precursor of Impressionism, and Claude Monet use, in their works, scientific observations of clouds, in particular those made by means of balloon rides.
In French poetry, clouds occupy an iconic place as symbols of nature and its majesty.
Paul Verlaine and Charles Baudelaire found certain inspiration there and paid homage to them.
As such, I would like to share with you the last two lines of a poem, the one of Charles Baudelaire, The Stranger.
"
— Hey! what do you like, extraordinary stranger?
— I like the clouds… the passing clouds… over there… over there…wonderful clouds!
"
Clouds symbolize freedom and fraternity, they are at home everywhere. They don’t know the borders.
From a small skylight, I can see the sky beyond the zinc roofs of the gray city. I fall asleep and wake up with these living and ephemeral photographs.
I rediscovered these childhood memories when intimidating, surprising or even smiling shapes appear among these floating clouds.
An inspiration can also be a simple fact of everyday life.
For me, a cloud is, at the same time, abstract and baroque, captivating and delicate, ephemeral and furious, greedy and heroic, imperial and jubilant, Kafkaesque and lascivious, mystical and noble, oily and psychedelic, quarrelsome and romantic, sensitive and theatrical, utopian and victorious, Wagnerian and xenophile, yinyang and Zen.
This season, I sought the lightness of the creations both literally and figuratively. A new stage, a new direction in my life.
Creation is my life, my innocence, my cocoon, my reverie, my melancholy, my spiritual dimension, my food.
So, let’s raise our heads, contemplate the clouds and discover the fascinating immensity of this universe in perpetual renewal.
Frank Sorbier
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