definition of what is valuable from margaret boden

The problem, rather, is

in getting the computer to generate and prune

these combinations in such a way that most, or

even many, of them are interesting—that is, valuable.

Computer Models of Creativity Margaret Boden

Boden suggests 3 different types of creativity:

combinatorial exploratory and transformative

may be a useful way to think about value in art

“Creativity can be defined as the ability to generate

novel, and valuable, ideas. Valuable, here, has

many meanings: interesting, useful, beautiful, simple,

richly complex, and so on. Ideas covers many

meanings too: not only ideas as such (concepts,

theories, interpretations, stories), but also artifacts

such as graphic images, sculptures, houses, and jet

engines. Computer models have been designed to

generate ideas in all these areas and more (Boden……………….

 

As for novel, that has two importantly different

meanings: psychological and historical. A psychological

novelty, or P-creative idea, is one that’s new

to the person who generated it. It doesn’t matter how

many times, if any, other people have had that

idea before. A historical novelty, or H-creative idea,

is one that is P-creative and has never occurred in

history before

Combinational creativity produces unfamiliar

combinations of familiar ideas, and it works by

making associations between ideas that were previously

only indirectly linked. Examples include

many cases of poetic imagery, collage in visual art,

and mimicry of cuckoo song in a classical symphony.

Analogy is a form of combinational creativity

that exploits shared conceptual structure

and is widely used in science as well as art. (Think

of William Harvey’s description of the heart as a

pump, or of the Bohr-Rutherford solar system

model of the atom.)

It is combinational creativity that is usually

mentioned in definitions of “creativity” and that

(almost always) is studied by experimental psychologists

specializing in creativity. But the other

two types are important too

 

Exploratory creativity rests on some culturally

accepted style of thinking, or “conceptual space.”

This may be a theory of chemical molecules, a style

of painting or music, or a particular national cuisine.

The space is defined (and constrained) by a

set of generative rules. Usually, these rules are

largely, or even wholly, implicit. Every structure

produced by following them will fit the style concerned,

just as any word string generated by English

syntax will be a gramatically acceptable English

sentence.

(Style-defining rules should not be confused

with the associative rules that underlie combinational

creativity. It’s true that associative rules generate—

that is, produce—combinations. But they

do this in a very different way from grammarlike

rules. It is the latter type that are normally called

“generative rules” by AI scientists.)

In exploratory creativity, the person moves

through the space, exploring it to find out what’s

there (including previously unvisited locations)—

and, in the most interesting cases, to discover both

the potential and the limits of the space in question.

These are the “most interesting” cases

because they may lead on to the third form of creativity,

which can be the most surprising of all.

In transformational creativity, the space or style

itself is transformed by altering (or dropping) one

or more of its defining dimensions. As a result,

ideas can now be generated that simply could not

have been generated before the change. For

instance, if all organic molecules are basically

strings of carbon atoms, then benzene can’t be a

ring structure. In suggesting that this is indeed

what benzene is, the chemist Friedrich von Kekule

had to transform the constraint string (open curve)

into that of ring (closed curve). This stylistic transformation

made way for the entire space of aromatic

chemistry, which chemists would explore

[sic] for many years.

The more stylistically fundamental the altered

constraint, the more surprising—even shocking—

the new ideas will be. It may take many years for

people to grow accustomed to the new space and

to become adept at producing or recognizing the

ideas that it makes possible. The history of science,

and of art too, offers many sad examples of people

ignored, even despised, in their lifetimes whose

ideas were later recognized as hugely valuable.

(Think of Ignaz Semmelweiss and Vincent van

Gogh, for instance. The one was reviled for saying

that puerperal fever could be prevented if doctors

washed their hands, and went mad as a result; the

other sold only one painting in his lifetime.)

Transformational creativity is the “sexiest” of

the three types, because it can give rise to ideas

that are not only new but fundamentally different

from any that went before. As such, they are often

highly counterintuitive. (It’s sometimes said that

https://www.comedianscomedian.com/328-seann-walsh/

Listening to sean walsh

he describes being on stage and hearing a huge number of people laughing and then reading reviews which were negative

this shows

a he is looking for approval outside himself to validate what he does

he is n to sure how to evaluate what he does

he is aware that it is important for his work to have some value

he is not sure about any of this

 

i have not listened to the full interview!!

The Cellist: Will Gompertz reviews the Royal Ballet work inspired by Jacqueline du Pré ★★★★☆

The Cellist

It might sound a bit rich coming from someone not noted for his good looks, but beauty isn’t getting the respect it deserves.

Not so long ago it was all the rage.

Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant was pro-beauty. He considered it a form of morality.

Einstein said it enticed the inner child out of us.

And wise old Confucius believed everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Bringing it into plain sight used to be the job of artists, authors and composers wearing billowing white shirts with splendid frou-frou collars last seen on Duran Duran in the 1980s. But pop’s New Romantics were no match for the relentless march of modernism with its frigid less-is-more dogma and strict no-frills dress code.

I blame Marcel Duchamp.

He was the artist who proposed a urinal as a work of art back in 1917. He chose it precisely because it was, as he said, anti-retinal: an unattractive sight. It was intended as an act of destruction: an enamelled Exocet missile aimed at the heart of a bourgeois art establishment aligned to a political class responsible for a horrific, bloody war.

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Marcel Duchamp's urinal wasn't deemed a work of art and considered indecent by the Society of Independent ArtistsImage copyrightALAMY
Image captionMarcel Duchamp’s urinal wasn’t deemed a work of art in 1917 by the Society of Independent Artists, who considered it indecent

It was no time for beauty, Duchamp argued.

If art meant anything at all it should speak the truth about what was happening, which was ugly and base. His toilet scored a direct hit, romanticism was dead. Henceforth, beauty was naff and frivolous; cynicism was the new religion for our secular age. Music became dissonant, literature became fragmented, theatre became absurd, and art turned ugly.

Caught up among the collateral damage was classical narrative ballet, the most romantic of art forms.

Tutus and fairies had no place in the new order. Ballet was dispatched to the art dog house, to be consumed by the people of Tunbridge Wells, or somewhere equally as uncool, where locals dress in brown tweed and mustard corduroy and consider Country Life a magazine not a brand of butter.

Dancers in The Cellist ballet

REX
 

And that is where ballet remains, with some of the most beautiful choreography and music ever created written off as elitist and irrelevant.

It’s a shame.

To see exceptionally talented dancers express emotions and story through graceful movement accompanied by a full orchestra is a sensuous experience like no other.

It isn’t posh or difficult or any more expensive than going to a gig or a Premier League football match.

It isn’t stuck in the past either.

The Cellist has just opened at the Royal Opera House in London. It is a new ballet by Cathy Marston telling the true story of Jacqueline du Pré, the prodigiously gifted post-war cellist whose career and life were cruelly cut short by multiple sclerosis.

Choreographer Cathy Marston behind Marcelino Sambé, shows Lauren Cuthbertson how to hold her cello during rehearsalImage copyrightROYAL OPERA HOUSE
Image captionChoreographer Cathy Marston behind Marcelino Sambé, shows Lauren Cuthbertson how to hold her cello during rehearsal

The tragic-romantic tale of love and loss centred around a young woman is classic classical ballet.

The difference here, though, is the subject of our heroine’s affections isn’t her lover and husband, the pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim, but her instrument: the eponymous cello.

Barenboim gets to play the gooseberry, as he watches his wife enthusiastically pluck her instrument, brought vividly to life by the Royal Ballet’s newly promoted principal dancer, Marcelino Sambé.

Lauren Cuthbertson takes the role of Jacqueline du Pré, and, as you would expect from one of the finest dancers of her generation, gives a wonderfully nuanced and intelligent performance.

The supremely gifted and famous couple, Jacqueline du Pré and Daniel Barenboim caught the public imaginationImage copyrightGETTY IMAGES
Image captionThe gifted and celebrated couple, Jacqueline du Pré and Daniel Barenboim caught the public imagination in the 1960s
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The CellistImage copyrightREX
Image captionMatthew Ball (Daniel Barenboim) looks on as Lauren Cuthbertson (Jacqueline du Pré) is entranced by her instrument, Marcelino Sambé

The show begins with us meeting a very young Jacqueline (played by a student at White Lodge ballet school) at home with her parents where she is having her first encounter with the instrument that would make her an international superstar by the mid-60s.

Enter Cuthbertson, who stands behind Sambé (her cello) and mimes playing him to the sound of Elgar’s Cello Concerto.

It is… beautiful.

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Lauren Cuthbertson (as Jacqueline du Pré) joyfully plays her cello, Marcelino SambéImage copyrightROYAL OPERA HOUSE
Image captionLauren Cutherbertson said the ballet required a different way of thinking, because usually the female dancer was positioned in front of the male
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He then lifts her and pirouettes as she maintains a seated playing position, which I must admit, is less beautiful and took my mind back to Duchamp and lavatories. No matter, it is one of very few awkward moments in a piece full of newly found positions, which races through Du Pré’s life in 60 minutes.

Barenboim enters the fray, leading to a memorable pas de trois, before dread looms in the form of an inexplicable shake in the cellist’s right leg. The transformation from a woman at the very top of her game to one confronting an unknown terror is undertaken with enormous skill and sensitivity by Cuthbertson, whose on-stage chemistry with Sambé transmits her love for him – her cello – with an intensity that makes the hopelessness of her situation profoundly moving.

To have a talent such as hers is a blessing, to have it snatched away so soon by a silent, malevolent condition seems so cruel, to her and us. It is the tragedy of something truly marvellous being destroyed.

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The story of love and loss is expressed movingly by the two ballet dancersImage copyrightROYAL OPERA HOUSE
Image captionThe Cellist’s story of love and loss is expressed movingly by the Royal Ballet’s principal dancers
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That is not a romantic condition, it was a fact of life for Jacqueline du Pré, a reminder that beauty should be cherished not banished. It is not uncool or naff, it is an ideal worth believing in and striving for and appreciating.

That is the message of The Cellist, delivered with aplomb by the dancers and orchestra who accompany them with a score referencing pieces by Elgar, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff and Schubert.

Beautiful.

Note: The Cellist can be seen on screen in a live link to selected cinemas on 25 February.

Patriciaoxley@hotmail.com

This blog is a notebook for me to record statements around the issues:
is it art?
what is art?

if it is art, is it good art?

What is good art?

Why do people do things that we/they call art

Because it is my own blog and notebook, I reserve the right to be incoherent and disorganized.  Having said that, I welcome comments that further the enquiry from people who can tolerate this.

 

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-49892553

 

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