Thoughts to share, ideas to ponder

Multum in Parvo--An Essay in Poetic Imagination

I discovered this little gem of a book by Carl Zigrosser about a year ago.  Multum in parvo is a Latin phrase which means "much in little".  The author has used small woodcuts by artists such as Goya, Rembrandt, William Blake, and Max Weber--from as small as about one inch square to as large as about two inches by three inches--to expound upon the idea that "poetic imagination" can be fully expressed in a small space.


My take on the essay is that it is less about the specific art presented, than it is about expressing the idea that "largeness of meaning can be conveyed with the utmost economy of means" and that we all have the capability to enjoy the expression of imagination, either by creating ourselves, our enjoying the power of huge meaning contained within very small spaces.  He begins by referring to this:
 


It is an example of largeness of meaning conveyed in such a seemingly simple equation, "meeting the required standard for abstraction with emotional content limited to but a few."
 
He then moves onto to the Chinese symbol for "eternal" or yung which could serve as a paradigm for multum in parvo. 

The author says, "There are...calligraphic elements, the sensuous action of the brush and the spirit that motivates it.  The direction, the tension or tenderness of the stroke, the vitality of the movement, and the conscious design of the whole have a direct appeal to the imagination and create an image of enduring beauty and signficance." 
 
From there he uses Japanese haiku as an example of largeness of meaning contained in just three verses and 17 syllables. Finally, he shows examples of 13 additional artworks, like those shown above, to emphasize his point.

Notwithstanding the fact that I believe artists are sort of pre-programmed to work at a certain "comfort" size as dictated by their DNA:  smaller than life size, life size, or larger than life size,  large for large sake should never be a goal.  There is a joke in the art world that "if you can't paint, paint big" and that somehow a large piece, by virtue of its size, can make us think it's more significant than it really is. 
 
I like to paint near lifesize so it means that my work, unless I am painting tiny things, will be large.   Multum in parvo reminds me that every little piece of space must have intentionality behind it, that large "bravura" strokes, although fun to do (and have a certain artistic "cachet"), must take a back seat to the message and meaning.