Yes, it gets dark early: the sun sets at 4.30pm. It would be 5.30pm except last week saw the end of Daylight Saving time. Darktime depression, here it comes... No, I don't get it (although many do, apparently). And it's not quite as dark as this in Helsinki. The picture was taken in Suomenlinna where the lighting is not so glaring and blaring. All the firepower that's put into streetlights (not to mention neon signs and everything)... mustn't let the bogeyman in from the dark!
I would like to think that I'm not afraid of the dark, and logically I'm not. I know that usually (in Helsinki at least) there are no people with evil intentions behind every tree, hiding in the dark. There are no bogeymen, monsters or ghosts. And yet... If I had to walk a longer, unlit stretch, I'd rather not linger. It's just... well, it's just so dark. I wonder if there is anyone in the glaringly lit cities - it's never really dark in the city - who feels truly comfortable in the dark? Were people before the invention of electric light more comfortable with the dark, I wonder? Are the native people in, say, the Amazon region comfortable with the dark? What I'm getting at: did all the technological advancement that pushed back the darkness with bright, bright lights bring the fear of the dark? Or is it some kind of an innate, primal fear that is perhaps biological, as humans do not have a sharp sense of smell or hearing or cat's whiskers to easily navigate in the dark without the help of eyes?
Anyway, it doesn't get any darker than in November, before the snow comes. So far I'm enjoying the new photographic opportunities that the dark (again) brings, but I'm sure I'll be hoping for the snow to come soon.
Quite active I've been: got back to swimming (or rather water running which I prefer); enjoying experimenting with the camera (sort of deconstructive gimmickry). I was going to not do anything work-wise for a while, since I sent off that article recently. But I already got an idea for a new article, so what can I do?
Some supremely enjoyable art experiences too lately.
The museum of contemporary art now has the exhibition of the candidates for the annual Ars Fennica award, and some of the works stunned me. I was particularly blown away by the video/programming work of the Scottish-born, Finland-based artist Charles Sandison, called "Words as the image of the world". This picture from an earlier exhibition gives an idea of it: a room with a mirror floor, with innumerable words (I read that it's the whole of the 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica) flowing in changing streams and formations on the ceiling and the walls, reflected in the floor. It felt like all of the nearly six billion people on this planet had been brought together in one space, all the chaos, all the languages, all the cultures. The immensity of it was almost overwhelming.
Calmer, but equally beautiful: Beethoven's piano sonata no. 3 in C: sparkling, translucent pearls of joy on the piano keys.
11 comments:
Wow, Maria, your writing just gets beer and better! A great post and some interesting ideas about the dark. You could be right about modern lighting increasing the fear, but I think it's always been there. There is always fear in what you can't see,
Your photo is marvellous, as is the one on the last post, which I managed to miss somehow. Such atmosphere in these pictures of dark places.
And as for Beethoven sounding like translucent pearls of joy...what an incredible image. And this isn't even your first language! Amazing.
Aw, thank you Val! xx
Beer and better, Val!
Perfect! lol
I love the darkness of the winter evenings. I've always found it comforting to arrive at work in the dark mornings and leave again in the darkness of night. There is something innately cosy about it all. Never does the winter depress me.
The photo is eerily revealing of the early nights. It doesn't get dark here till after 5:30, so far. Someone here in North America decided to go on Standard Time a month later in the fall and DST a month or so ealier a couple of years ago. Another fresh version of "time travel". I think we fall back in a week or so.
I much prefer the dark of my little town than the bright light glare of the city, where no one ever seems to sleep.
And Val is right. Your writing is great - whether you've had a beer or not! ;)
our clocks will change this weekend. I don't mind the dark so much, as I don't care for the early days, feels like when the days are longer of daylight I find myself doing more. The shorter daylight, the more inclined to end the day sooner.
Enjoy your swims.
Hahaha, I missed the 'beer and better' thing. Red wine for me, thinks :-)
Dale,
Thank you to you too! You are right, there can be something comfortable in the dark. Not complete darkness but dark with moderate light. That's why I love for example the park close to where I live because there the lighting is softer, not as glaring as in central Helsinki. The modern street lighting is so cold in colour and tone too. Well, here it is anyway. Funnily, I've felt that in London it's not as powerful.
Grace,
That's a good point, there is that aspect. I wonder if the darktime depression that many people here suffer from is because the natural thing with the dark would be to calm down and slower pace but the modern hectic work life does not allow them to do so?
perfectly put Maria. Sort of like, a bear goes into hibernation, but the human is unable to....
I agree with everybody. It's excellent writing and about something that I am going to think about. I think people thought the devil walked around in the dark. Hundreds of thousands of cats were thrown into fires in the Middle Ages because their eyes appeared to glow in the dark and made them look like demons. They got their revenge though, the Black Plague from the rats that then flourished.
I'm thinking more about this. Not just dark, but famous scenes from history where animals got poetic justice against our species. And I don't just mean bacteria - the book on them is still open. They could win! I'd like to think of an episode where dogs got their justice.
I'm thinking about dark for a while now.
Duncan, I see you sorted out your blogger account. If people thought the devil waked around in the dark, did Christianity bring fear of the dark?
robert's myth has to say: whene my daughters were around 6 or 7 they realized I was afraid of the dark and I lost all credibility as a parent.
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