September
30, 2007
Memorial Service for Rudolf Arnheim
Auditorium Matthaei Botanical Gardens - Ann Arbor, Michigan (USA)
A
few words on Rudolf
This is the beginning of the letter I wrote to Rudolf in the summer of
2005 - while I was spending a period of research in the States, in the
attempt to reconstruct the wide and deep (and partially hidden) contribution
of Arnheim's film theory to the Italian cultural context of the Thirties.
A few days later, I had the honour to meet him at Glacier Hills Community.
I'd like to say that it was the most impressive and influential meeting
of my life so far. I was attracted - and still I am today - by the same
passionate way of detecting reality through the unrealistic
way to represent it. He discovered that limitations on human perception
gave the film-artist the chance to make visible the invisible and, at
the same time, to connect the visible to a deeper invisible
and spiritual state of things. As he wrote in one of his last articles,
«In the flow of coming and going [of images - even the cinematographic
ones], [only the] significant images [of art] provide an indispensable
counterweight. They offer a store of lasting meaning, without which we
would be helplessly exposed to the flight of transitory happenings»[1].
With Rudolf Arnheim | August 18, 2005 | Glacier
Hills Retirement Community, Ann Arbor, Michigan
On
that day - even if Margaret [Arnheim's step-daughter] informed me about
Rudi's tiredness and his difficulties in communicating -, my bag and my
mind were full of ideas and topics to discuss. But the person I met was
not a "sacred monster", the "classic theorist" Rudolf
Arnheim. I met just a man. I found him very receptive and affable
- he strongly liked to hear voices, see colours, leaf through a book,
write, touch, peer at faces, speak - even in Italian! It was very hard
to go back to the past - he often fixed his sharp gaze into the space
of time, trying to remember something vanished yet, like in a "cerebral
cinema" in which the "coming and going of images" is hard
to stop. He once said:
«Memory
does return in time, but the suspicion remains that in the end dying will
consist in simply forgetting to live»[2].
When
I left his room, he asked me to write him another letter, to come back
to visit him again. The human value of that contact was inestimable. That's
why I'm here today.
As
a young film theory scholar who once met Rudolf Arnheim, I can attest
how important his figure could and should still be for the young generations
of students and scholars. Not only for the wide and still fertile legacy
of his "visual thought" in many disciplines, but also - and
above all - for his simple, humble and modest approach both to life and
theory. As many memories of Rudolf's ancient Italian friends witness,
his philosophy comes out from his way of life, rather than the other way
round. He really approached the artistic and aesthetic phenomena with
amazement, intensity and freedom, in spite of the dramatic events he had
to bear the cost of. As you can read in a number of Rudolf's comments
and letters, he has always kept a special memory of his life in Rome and
Italy:
«I
think of Italy as a home, where we spent the most beautiful years of our
life. Those were the years when the deep humanity of the people and its
creations taught us what it means to live with dignity»[3].
But
today, we have to say that he was the teacher and Italy, ungratefully,
was not able to protect his human teaching. In 1990 he wrote to one of
his Italian friends:
«Immortality
has always seemed unnatural to me. Thus, when I think of the little time
left to the aged, I think, quite calmly, of a completed assignment, a
closing door, but also of a kind of little treasure that remains available
in the memory of those who need it»[4].
We
are those who need that treasure and that memory.
Adriano
D'Aloia
With Margaret Nettinga-Arnheim and
Cor Nettinga | September 30, 2007 | Matthaei Botanical Gardens, Ann Arbor,
Michigan
REFERENCES
[1] Rudolf Arnheim, The Coming and Going
of Images, in «Leonardo», 33, 3, 2000: 167-168.
[2] Rudolf Arnheim, Parables of Sun Light:
Observations on Psychology, the Arts, and the Rest, Berkeley: University
of California Press, 1989.
[3] Rudolf Arnheim - Fedele D'Amico, Eppure,
forse, domani. Carteggio 1938-1990, Milan: Archinto, 2000: 33.
[4] Ibidem: 183-184.