August 5th, 2024, saw the opening of Swerve, a themed exhibition by Scylla Rhiadra, hosted by Dido Haas at her Nitroglobus Roof Gallery.
Scylla is, quite frankly one of the most gifted communicators in Second Life; her ability to to use art to convey ideas, feelings, realities and truths, and/or to expose concepts and ideas and encourage the grey stuff between the ears to start firing on all available cylinders, is second to none. This is especially true with Swerve, which takes as its subject matter, a visualisation of the essence of De rerum natura, (“On the nature of things”), a six-part (and potentially unfinished) poem by the 1first century BCE Roman poet and Epicurean philosopher, Titus Lucretius Carus.
It is also, again quite frankly, an exhibition I’ve found exceptionally difficult to write about. This is partially due to the fact that Scylla lays out out the inspiration and ideas for the exhibition quite wonderfully through both a poster on the wall close the gallery’s main landing point and through the notecard that can be obtained by touching said poster. As such, anything I might further say on in this regard is rendered somewhat superfluous.
“Swerve” is the most usual translation of the Latin term clinamen, a key word and concept in De Rerum Natura, a 1st-century BCE philosophical poem by Titus Lucretius Carus. Lucretius was the great populariser of Epicureanism, and his poem is a long and detailed explication of the ancient understanding of atomism, and of its implications for human life. It is also, in an important sense, the inspiration for this exhibition.
Lucretius tells us that nothing that is not “matter,” composed of atomic particles, exists in the universe. We swim through a torrential downpour of plummeting atoms that crowd the void of space, and these fall naturally in a straight line. Vitally, however, they also sometimes swerve from their straight, downward course and, colliding with others, cohere into new clumps of matter or ricochet off each other in unpredictable ways. “Swerve” is thus the foundation of all existing things, and, as importantly, of all change. The idiosyncratic motion of these swerving atoms is also, Lucretius asserts, the origin of human free will, for we too “swerve” from our natural course according to the dictates of our appetites and passions.
Scylla Rhiadra, introducing Swerve
There’s also the fact that by pure happenstance, I’ve not long since finished reading Greenblatt’s The Swerve: How the World Became Modern, the story of how the last known remaining copy of De rerum natura was rescued from certain loss in the early 15th century, helping to kick-start our modern understanding of modern physics an physical sciences.
While there is much that is perhaps questionable within The Swerve (particularly around Greenblatt’s propensity to interject his own view on religion together with a blurring of historical lines), I have nevertheless found it hard to divorce my thoughts on the fundamental story of the rescuing of the poem and how it potentially influenced modern thinking as outlined in Greenblatt’s book, from Scylla’s far more focused and elegant examination of her opening question posed when introducing her exhibition:
What does it mean to live in a godless, materialist universe ruled by the laws of physics and propelled by the endless fall and collision of atoms in apparently chaotic order?
Scylla Rhiadra, introducing Swerve
This is not in any way to fault Scylla; the fault is mine alone; I have lacked the mental discipline to keep my mind focused purely on Scylla’s work.
However, in trying to keep that focus, what I can say is this. The images Scylla present within Swerve are – as always – of a nature that allows each of them to stand on its own as an engaging piece of art while also offering a depth of reflection and / or enunciation of ideas either posited by Lucretius or to which we might be led in considering of his explanations of life, the nature of the mind and the soul, the driving forces behind our own actions and reactions to the cosmos – and others – around is, and most particularly by our own inner passions and desires, which can both aid and foil us.
In this there is much subtext to be found within many of these pieces – be it the placement of an icon on the wall or the juxtaposition of a woman’s body behind the bloom of a flower. Some of this again stand quite independently of Lucretius’ writing – but at the same time, understanding his outlook and the Epicurean view of the cosmos and humanity greatly enhances how these pictures might be viewed – an they, aided by Scylla’s words, tickle the desire to know more about this almost-lost didactic poem.
There are perhaps small aspects of Scylla commentary that might give cause for disagreement. Her use of the word godless might be seen as inaccurate, as neither Epicurus nor Lucretius posited a universe without deities; rather they held that such was the natural, elemental nature of an atomic universe, ordered by simple rules and interactions (such as clinamen), there was simply no need for any gods to involve themselves in the affairs of mortals; they could simply get on with enjoying absolute peace for all eternity. However, I would respond by saying that in a wider context – that of the “modern” world – Scylla’s use of godless is well-founded; while we have no evidence throughout De rerum natura that Lucretius was an atheist, in its denial of divine intervention and its repudiation of the immortal soul, the poem was (and sometimes still is) seen as “anti-Christian” and “dangerous”.
There is so much more I could say – but (thankfully for you) I won’t, other than do go as see this exhibition – read Scylla notes and then view her work; allow it to inhabit your thoughts and whisper to you with the voice of history.
SLurl Details
- Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)
Inara Pey: Living in a Modemworld 