Opposites on a Sunday
Afternoon
By Alice Bernstein
Last Sunday my husband David Bernstein
and I visited the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx, (a short train
ride from 125th Street). On that sunny, brisk day we joined many adults
and children who looked with wonder at nature’s stark, wintry beauty outside,
and vibrant, rich colors in the greenhouse show “A Celebration of Orchids.”
With all the turbulence and fear
of war now in the world, it was good to join others in seeing what earth
can put forth. Can we, without fooling ourselves, feel this world itself
makes sense? This is a question asked by Aesthetic
Realism, the education founded by the American poet and critic Eli
Siegel (1902-78), which we have the immense pleasure of studying. The scientific
basis for liking the world truly, with all its puzzlingness and pain, is
in this principle of Aesthetic Realism: “The world, art, and self explain
each other: each is the aesthetic oneness of opposites.” Here are some
instances of opposites that affected us.
Snow,
Grass, and a Promise; or Actuality and Possibility
Walking down a path to the conservatory,
we saw large areas with snow and ice glistening atop dry, brown grass.
Then, suddenly, here and there appeared dozens of little bright green shoots,
bravely pushing up and out of the snow -- the possibility of new green
grass, daffodils and crocuses. A promise earth has kept for many, many
years, will soon be a glorious actuality.
Feeling surprise and wonder about
ordinary grass and daffodils, had me think of sentences in Children’s
Guide to Parents and Other Matters by Eli Siegel (Definition
Press, NY). In his essay about "Happenings,” illustrated with
wonderful drawings by Dorothy Koppelman, he writes:
| "Seeing a leaf in a morning is
not a happening; because you think seeing a leaf is pretty much of an ordinary
bit of life. But if you saw a leaf in such a way it would mean much, much
to you, that would be a happening. In fact, why can’t you see a leaf in
such a way as to make it a happening?” |
Seeing tender green shoots emerging
from cold, hard earth, delighted children and adults who eagerly pointed
them out to other passersby. This was a happening! I think people, without
realizing it perhaps, were affected, had their hearts lightened, by the
way the opposites of old and new, bright and dull, warm and cold, possibility
and actuality, were together.
Power
and Delicacy: the Rosy Periwinkle
In a greenhouse exhibit of plants used
in medicine, I was thrilled to learn that vincristine, one of the powerful
chemotherapy drugs used in treating cancer, including childhood leukemia,
comes from the leaves of a delicate plant with small pink flowers, the
Rosy Periwinkle. When you know that this unassuming plant has helped people
to live who might have died, you have enormous respect and wonder.
| The Rosy Periwinkle, I was seeing,
is an amazingly beautiful oneness of power and delicacy, strength and gentleness
-- opposites every one of us yearns to make one in ourselves. For instance,
as a wife I have, like many wives, vexed my husband by -- on the one hand
-- managing, making demands; then later seeming like a different person
when I was sweet and gentle. |
 Rosy
Periwinkle
|
Everything in the world, I learned,
has delicacy and strength, and can be a guide to having a better relation
of these opposites in ourselves. The Rosy Periwinkle shows that power and
delicacy don’t have to fight: when they serve the same good purpose, they
can successfully be together in ourselves.
Vanilla
and Chocolate -- Science and Delight
| Our last
stop was the Everett Children’s Adventure Garden, the kind ongoing gift
to the children of New York from Edith and Henry Everett. Here, throughout
March, as part of the Celebration of Orchids, children can discover that
something so delicious as vanilla comes from the seedpod of a beautiful
orchid.
Youngsters had the opportunity to
observe live vanilla orchids, to sketch them as well as examine vanilla |
Orchids
|
beans with hand lenses and microscopes
– and also make and taste vanilla-flavored gum.
Children remove coats from
pods and discover cacoa beans
|
The science of botany
is both exact and delightful!
Youngsters had the opportunity to
observe live vanilla orchids, to sketch them and take notes in a field
notebook, to sketch them and take notes in a field
notebook, as |
well as examine vanilla beans
with hand lenses and microscopes – and also make and taste vanilla-flavored
gum. The science of botany is both exact and delightful!
| And everyone
had a good time learning that chocolate comes from cacao seeds. The children
enthusiastically and carefully broke open the cacao pods, to find a bean
within. Then with mortars and pestles they crushed the beans -- filling
the air with a heavenly aroma -- and soon enjoyed cups of hot chocolate
made from their research. The more everyone learned, the happier the atmosphere
became, and the taste of the chocolate was richer and more satisfying because
of it all.
These were some instances of opposites
David |
Destiny, age 6, grinding beans
for chocolate
|
and I saw and talked about on a Sunday
afternoon, and each was a happening, making the everyday world fresh and
new for us. In telling about it, I hope it is fresh and new for you, too.
.
|
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