But what makes a good melody? How can a melody be crafted to a higher degree of purely musical perfection than other parts when it is not even required, in purely musical terms, to exist? To answer this question, it must be noted that the non-melody parts in a piece of music are not constructed to emphasize the fact that they are things-in-themselves with an identity of sorts. They do not exist for any purpose besides the harmony of which they are a part. A melody, on the other hand, does have a purpose beyond the harmony; it exists for itself as well. If there were no harmony, the melody might still be.
Because it exists for itself, it is imperative that melody have a distinctive nature. Harmonic notes are made what they are because they “fit” the harmony. Melodic notes are made what they are, however, not only because they “fit” the harmony but also because they “fit” they melody. Our ears tell us when notes belong to the wrong melody, so this does not need to be discussed. Our ears also tell us when a melody is not a melody; such as when it is merely chaos, or merely a mathematical equation.
Metaphysically, there are four divisions of quality of melody. Now God knows all possible sequences of notes, therefore all melodies have an identity and can exist as a combination of matter and form insofar as they can be identified with an Exemplar in the Mind of God that results from God’s knowledge of their possibility. Some melodies only have this level of existence, but some have higher levels. The higher the level, the more melodic the melody and the more suitable they are to play the role proper to melodies in music’s section of the Divine Economy.
Now among merely possible melodies, there are two types: the kind that can be extended indefinitely without repetition while remaining the same thing (such as the alto parts of Bach chorales), and the kind that cannot (such as the soprano parts of most Bach chorales). The second type has more identity and is the higher melody because there are far more things that it is not.
But some melodies have a higher existence still, namely, they exist because they are good melodies, intended for or especially deserving of the sublime, actual mode of existence that composers provide (Veni Creator Spiritus). These are the highest melodies of all, as they have both non-limitless identities and an Exemplar that exists as more than a possibility. Any sort of melody can also be a corrupted or imperfect version of any of the previous three types, occupying the place below the place occupied by that which it is a corruption of.
Also fascinating, however, is the problem of the foreign melody: the melody that does seem crafted to one group of people, but not to another. This is my piano teacher’s complaint with eastern music and my mother‘s complaint with Han Chinese music: that it all sounds the same; or, in other words, that it is not crafted to be its own unique thing. But to the Han Chinese, this is obviously not so, as it would not all be popular if really was all the same. For popular implies unpopular, and when music is all melody (as Han Chinese music is) the fact that the other melodies were of inferior quality would be the most probable explanation of why the popular ones had the status they did. How can both perceptions be?
It is really quite simple. If we spoke Chinese, we would find Chinese words to be intelligible. We don’t speak Chinese, so we find it to be random noise. If we heard music “In Chinese” we would find it to be intelligible; we don’t, so we find it to be monotonous noise. Alternatively, the first Chinese composer perceived music as “Chinese” and composed in “Chinese,” just as the first Greek composer perceived music as “Greek” and composed in “Greek.” But chaotic melodies are not based on any such self-evident tradition; they are based on nothing of any musical value. All we have heard is the music of our own tradition, so all other traditions seem foreign to us. But music that is based on no tradition can probably be judged fairly by any of us. Most likely, we would judge them to be worthless. The melodies of music within our own tradition give self-evident testimony to their value as individual beings. But this perception is not a perception of goodness, emotion, or quality, merely a perception of unity.
How this unity can be achieved is beyond the scope of this work. Many of the conventional methods, such as motives, repetition, dramatic and melodic shape, etc., may prove to be valuable tools. In the final analysis, however, it is the perception of those within the valid tradition that is the final judge of the quality of a melody.
These are guidelines of reason; those who follow them ought to achieve a level of musical beauty that is reasonable. Hopefully, they will make themselves, their listeners, and their music more like God in the process and product.
End of Part One.
Showing posts with label Compleat Book of Musical Aesthetics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Compleat Book of Musical Aesthetics. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
My Humble Acession to Mr. Lundahl
If any of you have been following, Hans Lundahl and I had an extensive debate about something. It boiled down to this:
OFL: You cannot trust commonsense's approval of "dissonance only up to so far," because this judgment is of a nature that is easily changed by experience and because other things that people react to in the same way are things that people who have not been jaded by exposure to vast varieties of music disagree upon.
Lundahl: You can trust this because the fact that experience causes the approval of the more dissonant music points to such experience being a sort of jading that dulls the perceptions of common sense.
The argument hinges around whether or not the perception of the non-jaded falls under the ground of undeniable common sense. (Undeniable common sense also includes such things as:
Our 5 senses tell us useful things about the world, the rules of logic are valid, etc.; but not things such as things always fall when they are dropped, it is good not to offend people, etc.)
Now perhaps it can be proven that this judgment is common sense (and thus Lundahl wins). But even if it cannot, unless it can be disproven, it can be proven that it is more likely that the statement is true rather than false. Here's how:
1. Consider any statement that has no evidence for it being either true or false. (example: Our senses provide us with useful information about the world outside ourselves.)
2. You cannot consider this statement, by itself, to have less than a 50% chance of being true.
3. Theoretically, it is possible that you could construct multiple proofs (or prooves) based on another statement that has no evidence for it being true or false that, if the second statement were true, the first would also be true. (For example, the statement in part one would be true if common sense were a valid guide of human thought OR if there is a Benevolent God Who would not fool us by giving us senses that didn't do anything real. This assumes, of course, that there is no evidence for or against God, a statement that is quite false but that we are pretending is true for the sake of argument.)
4. Each of these statements and proofs also cannot be considered to have less than a 50% chance of being true.
5. For the original statement to be true, any of the secondary statements must be true. But for the original statement to be false, ALL of the secondary statements must be false. Therefore, it is more likely that a statement that has no evidence whatsoever concerning it is a true statement than a false statement. This argument ought to hold up (though not convince) under the fire of any musical modernist skeptic.
OFL: You cannot trust commonsense's approval of "dissonance only up to so far," because this judgment is of a nature that is easily changed by experience and because other things that people react to in the same way are things that people who have not been jaded by exposure to vast varieties of music disagree upon.
Lundahl: You can trust this because the fact that experience causes the approval of the more dissonant music points to such experience being a sort of jading that dulls the perceptions of common sense.
The argument hinges around whether or not the perception of the non-jaded falls under the ground of undeniable common sense. (Undeniable common sense also includes such things as:
Our 5 senses tell us useful things about the world, the rules of logic are valid, etc.; but not things such as things always fall when they are dropped, it is good not to offend people, etc.)
Now perhaps it can be proven that this judgment is common sense (and thus Lundahl wins). But even if it cannot, unless it can be disproven, it can be proven that it is more likely that the statement is true rather than false. Here's how:
1. Consider any statement that has no evidence for it being either true or false. (example: Our senses provide us with useful information about the world outside ourselves.)
2. You cannot consider this statement, by itself, to have less than a 50% chance of being true.
3. Theoretically, it is possible that you could construct multiple proofs (or prooves) based on another statement that has no evidence for it being true or false that, if the second statement were true, the first would also be true. (For example, the statement in part one would be true if common sense were a valid guide of human thought OR if there is a Benevolent God Who would not fool us by giving us senses that didn't do anything real. This assumes, of course, that there is no evidence for or against God, a statement that is quite false but that we are pretending is true for the sake of argument.)
4. Each of these statements and proofs also cannot be considered to have less than a 50% chance of being true.
5. For the original statement to be true, any of the secondary statements must be true. But for the original statement to be false, ALL of the secondary statements must be false. Therefore, it is more likely that a statement that has no evidence whatsoever concerning it is a true statement than a false statement. This argument ought to hold up (though not convince) under the fire of any musical modernist skeptic.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
"The Book" part V
All this of course seems very conservative, a seeming which is, in fact, false. Although we assume no tradition whatsoever (a very foolish thing to do), and although we give tradition no quarter (a very liberal thing to do), tradition has shown itself to be not merely tradition but truth, beauty, and goodness as well (a very irrelevant to conservativeness set of things). What else do the “Conservatives” say? Are they right?
In particular, let’s take a look at the aesthetics of Andrew Pudewa.
Summary:
Music must be:
Unified but complex. (empirical observation of all of creation applied to music)
Melody-dominant, harmony 2nd, rhythm 3rd. (Sequence based on the fact that melody strengthens the mind, the governing human power, harmony strengthens the emotions which are secondary to the mind, and rhythm strengthens the body, which is lower than either one.)
Music must not be:
Monotonous or chaotic (both were shown to be harmful to life).
Non-melody dominant (rhythm dominant music is harmful to life).
Persistently syncopated (harmful to life).
Obviously, Mr. Pudewa has a very practical system of aesthetics. It is useful. It works. However, its great weakness is that the last three points have nothing to do with the music itself, but with the effects of the music on earth-life. Whether or not syncopation, chaos, monotony, or dominance add beauty to music is ignored. The only thing considered is whether they add beauty to us. This is a very worthwhile thing, but it is artistically flawed. If it is good, true, and beautiful, do it, and let the viewers make prudential judgments about whether to view it. The relationship between this prudential judgment of the viewer, the prudential judgment of the artist, and the existence of beauty in the music will be discussed later, as will the unified-but-complex element. Melody and rhythm (we have already discussed harmony), however, deserve to be mentioned now.
It is obvious that melody must exist, for music, as an arrangement of sounds in time, not only has simultaneous sounds, but also has consecutive sounds. This “thing” makes up a melody.
From this, it is obvious that each “part” of a piece is its own melody. Therefore, music is always melody-dominant (unless non-pitched sounds are included), as it is always made up of melodies. If non-pitched sounds are included, melody/rhythm dominance would be determined (in our case, not in the psychological case Mr. Pudewa actually uses) by whether the behavior of the melodies directed the behavior of the rhythms or vice versa. As pitched sound is more ordered than non-pitched sound, melody ought to be dominant over rhythm to place justice in the music, although if the rhythm is part of the melody, there is no conflict.
When we ask the question “Ought melody or harmony be dominant so that the music itself may have justice?” however, we come to a much more difficult problem. As has been demonstrated, harmonies may never actually have dominance over melody, as the harmonies are made up of melodies and behave as the melodies behave. However, there is a twofold difficulty with this simplistic interpretation. One particular melody may be dominated by or dominate the harmonies, and though individual harmonies never dominate the melody, the harmonic system can do so.
The difficulty with the first question disappears, however, when we remember the role of the composer in relation to his music. The composer is related to his music as God is to Creation. God is the Maker and Author of Creation. As such, he made one species, the humans, to be the lord and master of creation, disposing of it as they see fit as long as they do not offend its dignity. The composer, therefore, may choose one melody over the others to craft to a higher degree of perfection that it may rule over the others. If such a melody exists, it must be dominant by nature. There is, however, nothing in the nature of music that requires it to exist.
On the other hand, melody should not be so independent of harmony that it ruins the harmony (not harmonies) by making them move in non-harmonic fashion, for this is an evil done to the harmony (which is greater than the melody, as the melody is a part of the harmony). Nor should the melody disregard the harmony altogether, for the melody is a part of the harmony (yet supreme over the harmony besides itself), and cannot ruin what it is a part of without doing evil to a thing greater than itself. Nor should the melody be a decorated version of the harmony, for if it is, it does not display higher craftsmanship (merely different, fancier craftsmanship) and is a part with ADD, not a melody.
In particular, let’s take a look at the aesthetics of Andrew Pudewa.
Summary:
Music must be:
Unified but complex. (empirical observation of all of creation applied to music)
Melody-dominant, harmony 2nd, rhythm 3rd. (Sequence based on the fact that melody strengthens the mind, the governing human power, harmony strengthens the emotions which are secondary to the mind, and rhythm strengthens the body, which is lower than either one.)
Music must not be:
Monotonous or chaotic (both were shown to be harmful to life).
Non-melody dominant (rhythm dominant music is harmful to life).
Persistently syncopated (harmful to life).
Obviously, Mr. Pudewa has a very practical system of aesthetics. It is useful. It works. However, its great weakness is that the last three points have nothing to do with the music itself, but with the effects of the music on earth-life. Whether or not syncopation, chaos, monotony, or dominance add beauty to music is ignored. The only thing considered is whether they add beauty to us. This is a very worthwhile thing, but it is artistically flawed. If it is good, true, and beautiful, do it, and let the viewers make prudential judgments about whether to view it. The relationship between this prudential judgment of the viewer, the prudential judgment of the artist, and the existence of beauty in the music will be discussed later, as will the unified-but-complex element. Melody and rhythm (we have already discussed harmony), however, deserve to be mentioned now.
It is obvious that melody must exist, for music, as an arrangement of sounds in time, not only has simultaneous sounds, but also has consecutive sounds. This “thing” makes up a melody.
From this, it is obvious that each “part” of a piece is its own melody. Therefore, music is always melody-dominant (unless non-pitched sounds are included), as it is always made up of melodies. If non-pitched sounds are included, melody/rhythm dominance would be determined (in our case, not in the psychological case Mr. Pudewa actually uses) by whether the behavior of the melodies directed the behavior of the rhythms or vice versa. As pitched sound is more ordered than non-pitched sound, melody ought to be dominant over rhythm to place justice in the music, although if the rhythm is part of the melody, there is no conflict.
When we ask the question “Ought melody or harmony be dominant so that the music itself may have justice?” however, we come to a much more difficult problem. As has been demonstrated, harmonies may never actually have dominance over melody, as the harmonies are made up of melodies and behave as the melodies behave. However, there is a twofold difficulty with this simplistic interpretation. One particular melody may be dominated by or dominate the harmonies, and though individual harmonies never dominate the melody, the harmonic system can do so.
The difficulty with the first question disappears, however, when we remember the role of the composer in relation to his music. The composer is related to his music as God is to Creation. God is the Maker and Author of Creation. As such, he made one species, the humans, to be the lord and master of creation, disposing of it as they see fit as long as they do not offend its dignity. The composer, therefore, may choose one melody over the others to craft to a higher degree of perfection that it may rule over the others. If such a melody exists, it must be dominant by nature. There is, however, nothing in the nature of music that requires it to exist.
On the other hand, melody should not be so independent of harmony that it ruins the harmony (not harmonies) by making them move in non-harmonic fashion, for this is an evil done to the harmony (which is greater than the melody, as the melody is a part of the harmony). Nor should the melody disregard the harmony altogether, for the melody is a part of the harmony (yet supreme over the harmony besides itself), and cannot ruin what it is a part of without doing evil to a thing greater than itself. Nor should the melody be a decorated version of the harmony, for if it is, it does not display higher craftsmanship (merely different, fancier craftsmanship) and is a part with ADD, not a melody.
Monday, September 15, 2008
The Book, part II
Even if beauty exists in things only as a reflection, not as an actual quality, there is only one way it can be: by the thing being like God to some extent.
How does something become more or less like God? God makes us like Himself through His process of redemption. The end result of this process is that we not only become like God, but we also become more like ourselves. This process of redemption requires our cooperation: we make ourselves like God by making ourselves more human through the liberating and humanizing acts of conforming to the Moral Law. God makes each thing to be itself, not something other than itself. The more of something there is, the more like God it is, but if something tries to be something other than itself, even if this thing is greater than itself, it becomes less like God, and therefore, less beautiful. All things are like God to the extent that they exist, so nothing can be completely unbeautiful. Something is unbeautiful (not ugly, see Chesterton's The Everlasting Man) to the extent that it does not possess the beauty proper to it, just as something is evil insofar as it does not possess the goods proper to it
For our purposes, then, it is clear that the most beautiful music is that which is the most musical. What, therefore, is music? Music is defined by scientists (and until recently, by musicians) to be those sounds which have a regular wave pattern. This includes the totality of those sounds: all pitches, speeds, timbres, styles, lengths, tempos, and combinations thereof. It is possible, however, for some combinations to be better than others, and for some to be insufficiently musical to be beautiful.
Here comes a unique situation. Here, Aquinas can mislead us without being false. Aquinas says that beauty is seen intuitively through the senses. Whether or not this is true is one matter, but the fact is self-evident that it is a very unreliable phenomenon. Unfortunately (for our purposes, that is), people cannot agree on what is beautiful and what is not. My mother dared to contradict the entire population of India. My piano teacher, who has a doctorate in music, contradicts nearly all composers who composed before 1900. I can see my own tastes changing before my ears. Both contradictory conditions cannot be right. To find that music that is musical, and thus beautiful, may very well sometimes contradict our beauty sense even while it satisfies the sense of others. The only reliable judgment is that which uses methods more reliable than the beauty sense.
The first person in the Western World to systematically investigate the nature of music was the Greek mathematician Pythagoras. He discovered that by halving or doubling the length of a vibrating object or a sound wave, the sound produced is one octave above or below the original sound. This establishes a relationship of simplicity between notes an octave apart. He also discovered that by multiplying the length by two-thirds, the sound produced was a perfect fifth above the original sound. Proceeding by fifths and octaves up and down, Pythagoras constructed what is now known as a scale. The number of fifths and octaves up or down determines the mode.
To construct a major scale:
Start at a note ( C )
Go down a fifth and up an octave (F)
Go back to C and up a fifth (G)
Go up a fifth and down an octave (D)
Go up a fifth (A)
Go up a fifth and down an octave (E)
Go up a fifth (B)
To construct a Lydian Mode scale, skip the down a fifth and add an up a fifth and down an octave after the B. This gives an F-sharp instead of F.
To construct a Mixolydian scale, add another down a fifth and up an octave at the beginning and skip the last fifth. This gives a B-flat instead of a B.
The minor, Dorian, and Phrygian scales can be constructed in similar manners.
Much later, musicians continued the process, constructing the modern chromatic scale. This led to the development of what we call temperament: namely, different ways of tweaking the scale so that it ’fit.’ This came about because it is possible to progress by fifths and octaves to a fraction of a half-step from where you started (or an octave above). Tuners would tweak the tuning slightly so that octaves would come out even. Other cultures have scales with still more notes. I don’t know if these are constructed by taking the process still further and taking advantage of the slight unevenness. Due to the mathematics of the scale, it is possible to carry on this process an indefinite number of times, resulting in a scale of unlimited numbers of notes.
How does something become more or less like God? God makes us like Himself through His process of redemption. The end result of this process is that we not only become like God, but we also become more like ourselves. This process of redemption requires our cooperation: we make ourselves like God by making ourselves more human through the liberating and humanizing acts of conforming to the Moral Law. God makes each thing to be itself, not something other than itself. The more of something there is, the more like God it is, but if something tries to be something other than itself, even if this thing is greater than itself, it becomes less like God, and therefore, less beautiful. All things are like God to the extent that they exist, so nothing can be completely unbeautiful. Something is unbeautiful (not ugly, see Chesterton's The Everlasting Man) to the extent that it does not possess the beauty proper to it, just as something is evil insofar as it does not possess the goods proper to it
For our purposes, then, it is clear that the most beautiful music is that which is the most musical. What, therefore, is music? Music is defined by scientists (and until recently, by musicians) to be those sounds which have a regular wave pattern. This includes the totality of those sounds: all pitches, speeds, timbres, styles, lengths, tempos, and combinations thereof. It is possible, however, for some combinations to be better than others, and for some to be insufficiently musical to be beautiful.
Here comes a unique situation. Here, Aquinas can mislead us without being false. Aquinas says that beauty is seen intuitively through the senses. Whether or not this is true is one matter, but the fact is self-evident that it is a very unreliable phenomenon. Unfortunately (for our purposes, that is), people cannot agree on what is beautiful and what is not. My mother dared to contradict the entire population of India. My piano teacher, who has a doctorate in music, contradicts nearly all composers who composed before 1900. I can see my own tastes changing before my ears. Both contradictory conditions cannot be right. To find that music that is musical, and thus beautiful, may very well sometimes contradict our beauty sense even while it satisfies the sense of others. The only reliable judgment is that which uses methods more reliable than the beauty sense.
The first person in the Western World to systematically investigate the nature of music was the Greek mathematician Pythagoras. He discovered that by halving or doubling the length of a vibrating object or a sound wave, the sound produced is one octave above or below the original sound. This establishes a relationship of simplicity between notes an octave apart. He also discovered that by multiplying the length by two-thirds, the sound produced was a perfect fifth above the original sound. Proceeding by fifths and octaves up and down, Pythagoras constructed what is now known as a scale. The number of fifths and octaves up or down determines the mode.
To construct a major scale:
Start at a note ( C )
Go down a fifth and up an octave (F)
Go back to C and up a fifth (G)
Go up a fifth and down an octave (D)
Go up a fifth (A)
Go up a fifth and down an octave (E)
Go up a fifth (B)
To construct a Lydian Mode scale, skip the down a fifth and add an up a fifth and down an octave after the B. This gives an F-sharp instead of F.
To construct a Mixolydian scale, add another down a fifth and up an octave at the beginning and skip the last fifth. This gives a B-flat instead of a B.
The minor, Dorian, and Phrygian scales can be constructed in similar manners.
Much later, musicians continued the process, constructing the modern chromatic scale. This led to the development of what we call temperament: namely, different ways of tweaking the scale so that it ’fit.’ This came about because it is possible to progress by fifths and octaves to a fraction of a half-step from where you started (or an octave above). Tuners would tweak the tuning slightly so that octaves would come out even. Other cultures have scales with still more notes. I don’t know if these are constructed by taking the process still further and taking advantage of the slight unevenness. Due to the mathematics of the scale, it is possible to carry on this process an indefinite number of times, resulting in a scale of unlimited numbers of notes.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
"The Book" Part One
It just so happens that I am in the process of writing a (as I call it) 'book' on Musical Aesthetics (by no means the only subject of this blog, by the way). I shall present it in parts. If there is anything that you do not understand or that you think is a fallacy, a falsehood, or anything you just disagree with, please let me know by posting a comment. We can have all sorts of friendly arguments in the comments box.
p.s. It's very boring, becasue I wrote it in Aristotle's style, which is very efficient but rhetorically flawed.
The Incompleat Book of Musical Aesthetics
Did you know that the phenomenon called language can actually get ideas from one mind to another? I am no linguist, I will not bore you with amateur accounts of how it is done. One thing is certain, however. To carry meaning, the words of the language must carry the same ideas to both minds. Only a politician would try to talk about something without first finding out what that something really was!
As Christians, we know that God, as the Infinite Being, has all perfections without limit, except those material perfections that are not proper to spiritual beings, such as color, size, or taste. Beauty cannot be merely a material perfection. Aquinas lists Beauty, along with Truth and Goodness, to be one of the three Divine Transcendental Attributes. God has no size, color, or taste because he is beyond and better than size, color or taste. Size, color, and taste are limitations; if something has color, for example, it cannot have the other colors in the same place at the same time. Matter is limitation, but the only thing that beauty limits is a thing’s capacity to have no beauty, which is not really a limitation. Therefore, beauty is a spiritual attribute and God can have it without limit. Because God is good, His Beauty must also be good, for God cannot have any evil in Him.
Aquinas also states that God is utterly simple, having no parts or divisions. In God, Beauty, Truth, Goodness, and Divine Life are one and the same. This is very difficult for us to visualize. The beauty of simplicity, called elegance, seems opposed to the complex and part-filled beauty of life, called fecundity. A Japanese crystal sphere, which exists to be simple, cannot exist also as a Charles Dickens novel, which, like physical and spiritual creation, has so many pieces that it could only come from the “life-giving” powers of an author who was so enchanted with the process of creating that he simply would not stop. In God, Who is Life Itself, there is no contradiction between Life and Simplicity, but creation is not large enough to transcend both options.
God’s beauty, therefore, can be demonstrated to be one way of referring to the Totality of His Divine Nature. Because He is utterly simple, His Beauty is His Whole Self. As nothing can be more beautiful than God, He, not anything else, whether concrete or abstract, is the Ideal of Beauty for all art and life. While we know relatively little about God and almost nothing about beauty, this is the first step in our learning.
The second step ought to be rather simple. We know what beauty is: God. This does not prevent beauty from existing in lower things. It is obvious that goodness and truth, other Divine Attributes, exist in things not merely as imitations, but as actual qualities. Food is good, not merely like good. 2+2=4 is true, not merely like truth.
p.s. It's very boring, becasue I wrote it in Aristotle's style, which is very efficient but rhetorically flawed.
The Incompleat Book of Musical Aesthetics
Did you know that the phenomenon called language can actually get ideas from one mind to another? I am no linguist, I will not bore you with amateur accounts of how it is done. One thing is certain, however. To carry meaning, the words of the language must carry the same ideas to both minds. Only a politician would try to talk about something without first finding out what that something really was!
As Christians, we know that God, as the Infinite Being, has all perfections without limit, except those material perfections that are not proper to spiritual beings, such as color, size, or taste. Beauty cannot be merely a material perfection. Aquinas lists Beauty, along with Truth and Goodness, to be one of the three Divine Transcendental Attributes. God has no size, color, or taste because he is beyond and better than size, color or taste. Size, color, and taste are limitations; if something has color, for example, it cannot have the other colors in the same place at the same time. Matter is limitation, but the only thing that beauty limits is a thing’s capacity to have no beauty, which is not really a limitation. Therefore, beauty is a spiritual attribute and God can have it without limit. Because God is good, His Beauty must also be good, for God cannot have any evil in Him.
Aquinas also states that God is utterly simple, having no parts or divisions. In God, Beauty, Truth, Goodness, and Divine Life are one and the same. This is very difficult for us to visualize. The beauty of simplicity, called elegance, seems opposed to the complex and part-filled beauty of life, called fecundity. A Japanese crystal sphere, which exists to be simple, cannot exist also as a Charles Dickens novel, which, like physical and spiritual creation, has so many pieces that it could only come from the “life-giving” powers of an author who was so enchanted with the process of creating that he simply would not stop. In God, Who is Life Itself, there is no contradiction between Life and Simplicity, but creation is not large enough to transcend both options.
God’s beauty, therefore, can be demonstrated to be one way of referring to the Totality of His Divine Nature. Because He is utterly simple, His Beauty is His Whole Self. As nothing can be more beautiful than God, He, not anything else, whether concrete or abstract, is the Ideal of Beauty for all art and life. While we know relatively little about God and almost nothing about beauty, this is the first step in our learning.
The second step ought to be rather simple. We know what beauty is: God. This does not prevent beauty from existing in lower things. It is obvious that goodness and truth, other Divine Attributes, exist in things not merely as imitations, but as actual qualities. Food is good, not merely like good. 2+2=4 is true, not merely like truth.
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