Beauty is in the eye of the beholder (and only there)

The idea that beauty, as many other social conventions, is to a large extent at the mercy of time and fashion needs not demonstration: over the last five or six centuries there have been huge variations with respect to what aesthetic ideals mean, from the rosy characters of the early 17th century to the languid romantic figures of the 19th. However there is, in my opinion, a common thread that joins them all, and that is harmony.

Of course, harmony is not something that applies to every taste, particularly because there are certain acquired ones who are particularly focused in dissonance and contrast, like punk music or the fauvist movement in paintings. Some artist even intend to provoke reactions in their spectator but putting together shocking or disgusting displays, and while one might agree with the expressive force of the work, no one would label it as "beautiful".

It might be tempting to think that beauty is a linear scale, where you have ugly at the bottom and beautiful at the top, and the higher you get the better, as if it were impossible for something to be too beautiful. However, that is not the case: forcing too many beautiful elements in a single work of art results in kitsch style, like some tattoos by American artist Ed Hardy, which are so dense in expression that they become overwhelming, but there are many examples.

Photo: Stebanoid

A few days ago Karen and I discussed the distracting beauty of Terry Farrell in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. She is now 57 years old and is still beautiful, but not the extent she was 25 years ago. Back then she was so captivating to look at that I would probably be unable to work around her, because I would spend the whole time looking at her. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I humbly plead guilty of beholding. But it is not only Terry Farrel that produces that feeling in me. Other actresses like Salma Hayek and Catherine Zeta-Jones also have (or have had) that beauty that seems to quietly challenge you to "decipher" it, to find the single feature that makes that face remarkable, but as long as you might search the only conclusion is that it is the adequate combination of otherwise regular features that make a sublime composition.

Pulling together a harmonious drawing is technically very difficult. The image will look flat if you do not put enough detail, if it has no nuances, but if you go too far it will look gaudy and wild. We have found an excellent balance in the main character of Nintendo's Animal Crossing New Horizons. It looks close enough to a person that you can identify with it and it is full of cuteness, but without falling into the realm of childish. It has very carefully designed poses that mimic (or should I say distill) real-life movements and truly conveys a feel-good sensation. You might get tired of the dynamics of the game, or dislike the secondary characters, which occasionally turn up offensive to the eye, but you can never stop watching your character moving around trying on new clothes, building, fishing, hunting and planting.

Another recent example of very careful design is the independent game Tohú, which we recently bought for the Nintendo Switch. As any other point-and-click game, it has its idiosyncrasies and internal logic, so you have to like the genre, but the visual aspect is very pleasant. Drawn like a cartoon, the main character is a small girl that is, at the same time, helpless and courageous, trying to achieve feats beyond her years and yet succeeding in the task. The game has an oniric flair in some parts that some people might find unsettling, but I am enjoying it very much and it is always hard to put down the controller for the evening when we have just finished a new chapter. I will keep you posted.

Now that I have open my soul to you and showed what makes the gears turn, it is time to call it the day and truly start the weekend. I hope that the read has been entertaining if not interesting, and I will see you again on Monday.