Have you read What Painting Is, by James Elkins? Much like the now infamous art history teacher of my university past, Elkins argues that paintings are in fact about…the paint. Or rather, the alchemical, transformative nature that paint must undergo in order to become what we eventually see before us: a finished painting. It is easily one of the most creative and well written books I have come across. In the book the author studies Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, by artist Pieter Bruegel (above).
In his explorations of the alchemy of paint, from the mining of the pigment, to the interpretation of the finished piece of art, he asks what is Alchemy? And the reader soon learns: it is the practice of taking a finished product (such as the paint medium, or the finished painting) and extracting from it until one has the original, and purified elements used to create it. Essentially: taking something whole, and reducing to stand-alone (pure) individual pieces.
Though Icarus is the named subject of the painting, the only thing that is visible of him is a pair of legs splashing into the water…perhaps only seen due to the contrast of a man’s red cap against the blue sea that guides the viewer's eye to him. He is largely unseen in the painting that bears his name. And further, no one within the painting seems to care that Icarus is drowning, having fallen from both the sky and grace.
Our American society claims to admire the underdog, the brave soul who defies the odds, similar to Icarus soaring toward the sun. Yet, society's admiration quickly fades when dreamers, like Icarus, fly too close—because their ambition highlights our own fear of risk. And what society fails to grasp is that the dreaming is so much more than lofty ideals; it is the transformative nature of action and conviction that drives the dreamer forward. In a society that prizes individuality, this active ambition can feel like a threat indeed.
Who better understands the dynamic of being celebrated only to be feared and eventually shunned- labeled as dangerously idealistic- than social activists? Or a more subtle example; the generation shaped by Affirmative Action- who learned firsthand the tension of quiet attempts at change: begrudgingly accepted with hesitation but never fully embraced.
There is an inherent risk to want better. Icarus didn’t fall to his death because he dared to dream. Icarus fell because his community rejected his desire of wanting more… His father granting him the ability to do the impossible, only to tell him to think small. The canary didn’t sing because it was weak - it sang because it flew where others refused to. Both the canary and Icarus are told as cautionary tales because their stories are told by those who watched from the sidelines: their stories were told by those who did not dare. But…perhaps Icarus laughed as he fell...finding death on his own terms, of his own free will.
Dreamers don’t always raise dreamers. Sometimes they leave behind only traces of their ambition—feathers, wax, and fading legend. Much like the boy covered in feathers, perhaps the dreamers are left trying to figure out how much room they are allotted to take while on the path to transformation.
History favors to rewrite the brave and trailblazing actions of others as cautionary tales. (Or in an equally perplexing way, it will seek to absorb a heroes conviction while hiding its hands; such as the praise of MLK Jr.: choosing only to remember him as 'peaceful', whilst ignoring the fact that he was assassinated as a result of once being 'the most hated man in America'). Their dreams are watered down into cozy sound bites that barely resemble the booming timbre of what originally filled their chests…But here is the truth: it is impossible to soar to the sun with a featherweight conviction. No, the potential had been realized; even the seemingly impossible one. But one will be damned if they fail to take into honest account those who stand on the sidelines passively (or actively) hoping to see grand achievements repackaged as caution: it’s a rewriting of a truth that they haven’t understood.
Those who watched safely from the sidelines would label them as failures. But these are not the voices we should heed. It’s often the bystanders, the ones who never dared to risk anything, who try to reduce others' dreams to cautionary tales. Who are they to moralize or warn us about dreams they’ll never have the courage to pursue?
I find comfort in are the stories of the two ill fated dreamers of Icarus and the Canary. Daring to dream and falling from grace doesn’t mean failure. The dream, the song, the flight -these are the accomplishments that must be remembered. Icarus soared to heights so close the sun that its heat melted the wax off his wings.
