The Enneagram; "What's My Motivation"?
The following article was written in late 2010. Upon rereading it (late 2014) I now have some questions regarding certain assertions/diagnoses. However, as this piece was written largely to stimulate dialogue I have decided to leave it in it's original form and eagerly await corrective criticism.
We each of us tend to have two distinct selves. There is the external, somewhat censored one based on a projection that a lifetime's experience teaches us is the most suitable, one that we employ when interacting with others and in the pursuit of our goals. This self conforms to the commonality and demands of material reality, and follows a time- based, linear path whereby one seeks fulfilment, belonging and purpose within the age, area or culture within which one finds oneself.
There is then the inner, private domain given over to ruminations, reflection and fantasy, freed of the limitations of space and time, and untroubled by the opinions and judgements of others. Oscar Wilde once said “One’s real life is often the one that one does not lead”, and it is in this secret and largely unshared world that imagination plays out, oftentimes with idealized versions of the self in carefully scripted and conducive settings, living the life one feels denied or incapable of achieving in an external world that has little concern with dramatic development and poetic coherence, memorably described by Shakespeare’s Macbeth as “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing”.
Accompanying both lives is the Inner Critic, offering a constant chattering dialogue of reproach, warning and observation, sometimes encouraging, often amusing, but just as likely censorious, crowing and carping, all of which depends upon the individual’s self- appraisal.
So, who is the authentic “self”? A tactically masked figure cautiously navigating it’s way through a pre-defined and heavily restricted war zone, or an abject fantasist resigned to the neglect and concealment of it’s “heart’s desire”? Or could it possibly be, horror of horrors, that tirelessly twittering, often unhelpful and poisonous commentator? How did we come to this?
Sure, this psyche tricycle isn’t without its uses; tact and sensitivity to the sensibilities and needs of others are benchmarks of basic decency and compassion and, as social mammals, certain agreed definitions and protocols are necessary in order to communicate and get along with one another. Equally, the reflective inner world allows us to process information and occurrences, as well as affording us the opportunity of one of the most estimable and heartening of human experiences, that of “opening up” and sharing an inner essence, be it directly person to person, or through a “third party” medium, such as Art or Philosophy. Also, that cautious Inner Critic, endowed with a wealth of foresight and instinct, can navigate us through the tricky terrain of a twisting path, spotting footfalls and potential threats ahead.
The problem is that by identifying almost entirely with a filtered facade, unfulfilled fantasy or the dictates of an agent of fear, we confine ourselves to a limited and largely defensive position, hindering possibilities of growth and experience. Added to this can be the miasma of epochal, familial and cultural influences that may bind us to “group- think”, eroding the contours of individuality into that of a collective pattern, and whereby “self- expression” is often little more than a recitative of inherited beliefs and worldviews, or an ongoing rebellion against a definition within which one still contains oneself. Where does one begin to untangle the strands of “personality”, locate drivers and urges, understand responses and fall- back positions and, hopefully, gain a glimpse of that true unlimited “self”? How does one gain enough distance from “little me” limitation and the intrepid Inner Critic in order to adjudge one’s personality and peccadilloes with anything like an objective appraisal?
To play, let alone win, the game, it helps to know what game you are actually playing or, to employ another facile but apt metaphor, one cannot change tracks unless one knows what tracks one is already on.
And this is where the Enneagram comes in.
“All The World’s a stage” as Shakespeare’s Jaques puts it, and most of us at some time or other find ourselves fruitlessly awaiting direction, forgetting our lines and, with arms aloft, crying “What’s my Motivation”?
What is the Enneagram?
The Enneagram is a typology of human personality consisting of nine principle types, each type being flanked by two wings or subtypes which, in all, amounts to 18 actual types. Based on the teachings of G.I.Gurdjieff (who is said to have devised the system whilst studying with Sufi mystics), and further developed by Oscar Ichazo, it is commonly employed as a self- help/awareness technique whereby one identifies one’s type (and subconscious motivations and “programming”) in order to address recurrent processes and patterns and, if necessary, change the tracks one finds oneself unwittingly upon. The Nine basic types are as follows;
Type One; The Judge
Type Two; The Helper
Type Three; The Achiever
Type Four; The Artist
Type Five; The Thinker
Type Six; The Partisan
Type Seven; The Enthusiast
Type Eight; The Powerhouse
Type Nine; The Peacemaker
Why the Enneagram?
Regardless of whether one subscribes to the notion of being a type (that is, if one can hear above the din of the Ego’s screaming “I am not a number. I’m unique! No one is like me!”), one may still be able to benefit from the system’s ability to help one identify repetitive reactions as well as take pointers from its advice. Those of us who use the Enneagram do so because, quite frankly, we find it works, providing consistently accurate descriptions not only of personality types, but their underlying drivers, how each type responds and what they may need in order to attain a more peaceful, self- aware existence.
Of course we are all unique, but still conform to human commonalities like Birth, Death and all the interesting stuff in between; Indeed, our notions of shared humanity are in many ways defined by Universal experiences such as Joy, Pain, Hope, Loss, Love, Fear, and so on. There is no good reason why the Personality, the means by which consciousness assimilates experiences whilst navigating through a human lifetime, should be any less subject to recognizable Universal typologies. When we identify these aspects of ourselves, and can identify in others their like or opposite, we are afforded an opportunity to attain a deeper understanding of Human Nature, a chance to know ourselves and, to some extent, everyone else too.
How did I come to be a “Type”?
There are essentially two notions as to how one arrives at being a particular personality type; a psychological “cause and effect” interpretation relating to, among others, Jung’s personality types, whereby the events in one’s early life shape the subjects motivation, outlook and self- image.
Secondly, there is a belief whereby one, prior to incarnation, elects one’s type (and corresponding circumstances and life experiences) in order to “play out”, identify and ultimately transcend one’s type. In this respect, one’s Enneagram is akin to a suit of clothes one adopts for a particular terrain.
Why this version of the Enneagram?
As with any field of study where there will be variance, disagreement and differing perspectives, The Enneagram is an “open book”, inviting further investigation, insight and understanding. However, the seasoned Enneagram aficionado may wonder at the necessity of yet another take on a system that they feel themselves to have thoroughly got to grips with. No one is under any obligation to read and or agree with our findings, but I would say that an open system demands an open mind, one that is prepared to re-examine what is assumed to be known and examine those of a markedly different outlook to what may be generally believed to be “established truths”. We have found certain inconsistencies in our reading of numerous Enneagram publications and empirical studies of actual types, perhaps most notably in the stark differences between the wings; the subtypes are commonly viewed as adding a dash of motivational colour to the major type (a tilt of axis in a particular direction) whereas we have found the wings to be in many ways as distinct as the main types themselves, with a proportional preponderance given over to those subtypes that move forward (Ones with a Two wing, Twos with a Three wing etc..), and that said forward moving subtypes tend to embody many more of the “classic” traits of the main type, with those that move back often bearing a stronger resemblance to their attendant wing (Fives with a Four wing often appearing more like Fours, Sixes with a Five wing more like Fives etc…). Thus we’ll devote quite a bit of attention to each of the 18 subtypes, with a focus on how the wing “steers” and influences the main type.
Unlike most Enneagram studies, we won't expend much attention on the psychoanalytical aspects (such as “childhood origins” which tend to offer a "cause and effect" interpretation of how one arrives at being a certain type), as our approach to the Enneagram is primarily from a more “soul”- focused perspective, whereby one’s type is inherent, a sort of Daemon driving and dictating to the individual regardless of external circumstance, and one's formative experiences are chosen by the pre-incarnational soul rather as a route map or assault course conducive to one's life mission. I recognise that, in the World we live in, this makes our interpretation of the Enneagram a “hard sell” and easily dismissed, in that it eschews an approach that aims for an almost scientific credibility in favour of a more “fluffy” or “new age” reading. At the risk of exhausting the Shakespeare quota, Hamlet’s assertion that “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy” provides an apt summation of our view of the sources of personality, that it is mysterious and more than the accrued influences of experiences and outlook.
How can I practically use the Enneagram?
By familiarizing oneself with the personality- paradigm within which one is operating, one can aim towards liberating oneself from the less- conducive aspects of one’s type, as well as maximizing those more favourable features; If, say, a Nine wishes to exploit their abilities and forward themselves, they may adopt some of the type Three’s steely ambition and high self esteem. Equally, if a Seven wishes to curb their appetites and foster self- restraint, they can adopt the One’s asceticism and discipline.
Simply put, one isn’t confined to the traits of one’s type, but by recognizing the personality one is having a life experience through, one can work towards developing one’s native strengths and diminishing the less conducive aspects of one’s type.
On a greater and gradual level, one might consider the ongoing process of Evolution and what roles our emotions, responses and outlooks might play in this development; if we are in a hall of mirrors, with our perspectives distorted and responses dictated to by a series of complex, subconscious reflexes, might it be in some way beneficial, as individuals as well as a species, to identify and examine the multifaceted but nonetheless limited framework we’re operating within? What role, if any, does a confined, imposed (by self and circumstance) notion of self play in denying us access to that oft- cited 90% of our brains supposedly laying dormant? If we identify precisely how our sense of self is confined (a body being navigated by a personality), might we be able to shift our viewpoint to that of a more universal perspective? Who knows? It’s certainly worth a try.
By familiarizing ourselves with the keys to our personalities, we might be able to unlock our essence and rather than come to a closed conclusion, arrive at an infinite and ongoing process of becoming.
“Identity”, Self Image and The Enneagram
One of the most challenging aspects of moving beyond finite Ego- based consciousness and into a greater, more empathic perspective, is the freeing of oneself from the restrictions of identity, be they of gender, race, faith, generation or profession. It is all too easy, and often taken as a given, that we are defined (by self and other) by these components, hence the term “Human Doings” for the disproportionate importance that is given to what is essentially a means of survival (consider the clichéd conversational opening gambit; “so, what do you do”?).
We are, to varying degrees, social animals, insofar as we seek connection, identification and security through and with others. In itself this is no bad thing, being a manifestation of Universal “Oneness” and our need to give and receive love, compassion and comfort. Over the course of our somewhat schismatic evolution, however, this desire for connection has often been reduced to mere tribalism, whereby one seeks out the familiar, and avoids the apparently alien.
This isn’t to dismiss the vast gifts of human Cultural diversity, which makes for fascinating and endless possibilities; indeed, one of the beauties of "Culture" is that one is at liberty to explore any of it's myriad forms, taking what is fresh, positive and inspired and eschewing what isn't or at least what is, to be brutal, of no use to the seeker. We are not confined by the bodily, cultural, race or gender specifics we are born with, they are a complex means by which we can have a human experience, though we forget this and identify with the suit rather than the wearer. Herein lies one of the central problems of identification by culture/profession/ gender etc… in that one keeps oneself within the boundaries of a restricted self- identification, confining and denying oneself a fuller, more fruitful human experience. How does one, for example, transcend (disown) a self- image that’s been accrued by a lifetime’s experiences? If one has been traumatized, or felt oneself to have little or no control over one’s life, how can one identify oneself as anything other than a victim?
The answer is the same as that posed by questions of culture, profession or gender; we are not confined by our experiences, being Beings of Infinite Consciousness and Limitless Possibility having a unique human experience. We may do well to ask ourselves how much of what we feel, believe and project is genuinely ours, rather than a regurgitation of what we have inherited. When, for example, we “express ourselves”, who or what are we really expressing? The question here is whether one elects to be an echo chamber or a pure singing voice, whether one wants to contribute to the din of conflicting opinions, a mass of reactive (rather than responsive) fearful “viewpoints” or, on finding that clear tranquil self, expressing one’s unique aspect of the Universal?
At this juncture, you could be forgiven for asking; “So, why should I give any thought to the Enneagram? Why would I want to embrace yet another means by which I define and limit myself? How can this be useful for personal as well as greater growth”?
Quite simply because each of us are beset by so many subconscious programs of limitation and fear, and that any means by which we can understand, identify and, ultimately, overcome these restrictions is worthy of investigation. To know and understand Oneself, devoid of cultural baggage, Left brain indoctrination (erroneously referred to as “Education”), emotional bruising and an almost feral focus on mere survival, or to finally be provided with some kind of briefing for the Cosmic mission we are undertaking, is truly beneficial to Personal and Spiritual growth, transcendence of terror, the sharing of True Love and Freedom.
This is the journey we’re on, and we may have a long way to go (your author more than most!) in moving beyond limitation, fear, prejudice, and the trammels of Personality.
The 9 types (and 18 subtypes) of the Enneagram
Type One; The Judge (1w9; "The Patriarch". 1w2; "The Crusader")
Type Two; The Helper (2w1; "The Nurturer". 2w3; "The Hostess")
Type Three; The Achiever (3w2; "The Transgressor". 3w4; "The Superstar")
Type Four; The Artist (4w3; "The Aristocrat". 4w5; "The Visionary")
Type Five; The Thinker (5w4; "The Eccentric". 5w6; "The Scientist")
Type Six; The Partisan (6w5; "The Frontiersman". 6w7; "The Provocateur")
Type Seven; The Enthusiast (7w6; "The Sprite". 7w8; "The Connoisseur")
Type Eight; The Powerhouse (8w7; "The Supernova". 8w9; "The Boss")
Type Nine; The Peacemaker (9w8; "The Diplomat". 9w1; "The Dreamer")
Type One; The Judge (paragon of objectivity)
The One’s key motivation is to be right. One’s are highly ethical and are concerned with setting the world (on a great or small scale) to right. Appalled by mendacity and corruption, they are often to be found at the head of action groups, exposing corporate irresponsibility and campaigning to highlight inequities and injustices. They have objective, trouble- shooting minds, and can express themselves logically and with concision, thus making them exceptional local advocates or investigative journalists. Their desire to contribute socially and globally, as well as natural ease with responsibility, makes them excellent, dutiful teachers and morally righteous politicians (Ones often feel themselves to be on a personal crusade). Capable of putting personal feelings aside, and a tendency towards reserved, rather than interpersonal, communication means that ones often come across as somewhat aloof, “stiff upper lip” characters. However, this is because Ones are actually highly impassioned individuals and, being aware of these powerful and potentially destabilizing emotions, prefer to keep themselves in check, keeping a cool head and clear, open eyes. Ones can also have powerful appetites that they might feel a need to monitor and curtail, sourcing from a morally- informed disdain for over- indulgence, or fear of being consumed by their desires. The One’s sense of duty means that oftentimes they will forego their own needs, and are capable of remarkable feats of self sacrifice for the greater good.
The One’s main fear is to be judged and found wanting; essentially, to be wrong. Early in life, the One feels that they cannot entirely trust the judgement of their immediate authorities, and that they have to assume a parental or judicial position (the One’s motto being “somebody must assume responsibility, and who better qualified than me”?) Putting much stock in their own objectivity and moral purity, they are often unwilling to admit to being in error and will become enraged (those powerful emotions being unleashed) when confronted with this. Righteous judgement becomes wrath, clear- eyed humanitarianism becomes tight lipped bigotry, an inflexible inability to countenance differing opinion, as well as admit to being in error. Unhealthy Ones can be terrifying in their lack of empathy, dismissing those who they deem incorrect or inferior as a mere flaw in the pattern and worthy of contempt and dismissal. The danger here for the One is that their high ethics demand that they rationalize their actions, and can therefore look for (and see only) justification for their behaviour; this can lead to an unflinching demonization of their perceived enemies, untouched by compassion, empathy or any notion of shared humanity.
However, because the One has such a high sense of moral awareness, this juggling of dual, conflicting notions can lead to a schism within the One’s psyche, entailing a turning of that mighty moral wrath inwards, with ensuing emotional break down and self- disgust.
Subtypes
The 1 With A Nine Wing; The Patriarch
This subtype combines the laid back, unperturbed attitude of the Nine with the ethical rationalism of the One. Unlike the more uptight, severe 2 wing, this type has a relaxed durability and, whilst reserved, is amenable, wise and “fatherly”. Emanating a reassuring, calm certainty, One’s with a 9 wing exhibit a natural authority, and are usually good with children or the vulnerable, where the One’s sense of decency and duty is combined with the Nine’s harmonizing tranquillity. The 9 wing lends this type an almost withdrawn quality that generally manifests in a desire for privacy, and members of this subtype often function best when working in private or in a position where they’re unlikely to be called to task; loss of “face” is probably this subtype’s worst nightmare, with the One’s desired unaccountability compounded by the repressed Nine’s dislike of conflict. However, healthy members of this subtype make excellent superiors or supervisors, where their patience, cool- headedness, and “can do” hands- on approach put others at ease, whilst inspiring honesty, conscientiousness and loyalty in underlings. Also, the 9 wing softens the severity of the One, and this type can be playful, engaging and easy to get along with. Members of this subtype often have an almost otherworldly sang froid, maintaining an impassive demeanour in even the most trying circumstances. This makes them stable and reliable in times of strife, keeping “grace under fire” and encouraging others in kind. However, this tendency to rise above the fray can, when less healthy, appear as impersonal hauteur, with the Nine’s disengagement compounding the dispassionate reserve of the One, leading to a lack of empathy.
As the unconscious Nine tends towards negligence and inconsistency, this subtype is in danger of lapsing into a hypocritical lack of self- awareness, with the critical One issuing edicts on the failings of others whilst omitting themselves from any judgement, becoming pompous and supercilious, lacking in compassion and resolutely indifferent to their own shortcomings. As both Nine and One are emotionally detached types, it can be extremely difficult to get this subtype to “open up” about their fears and emotional needs. Indeed, “repression” is usually the first and last emotional port of call for average to unhealthy members of this subtype (sailing on the good ship “Denial”). The 9 wing lends a stout stubbornness that, combined with the One’s buried rage, can be as unpleasant as it is exasperating. At this stage, the resentment and indirect aggression of the Nine is ignited by the righteous wrath of the One, with this subtype resemble a rumbling volcano that flares up with frightening flashes of temper, all the more destructive for the weight of repressed emotion that is finally unleashed.
The 1 With A 2 Wing; The Crusader
This subtype combines the objective, de- personalized approach of the One with the subjective, interrelating tendency of the Two, leading to highly conscientious and emotionally complex individuals who are perhaps the most idealistically driven of all personality types. The One’s concern with justice is, through the influence of the Two, given a social, even global, emotional dimension, and this subtype features prominently amongst political activists, human rights campaigners as well as within the teaching, legal or governmental professions. These persons often appear somewhat po- faced, ascetic and can be intimidating in their seriousness, though this often belies a keen, dry sense of humour, as well as a powerfully passionate nature. Far more emotionally “in touch” than those with a 9 wing, this subtype tends to channel their considerable zeal into ideals, be they in the (small) realms of personal and familial relationships, or the (greater) scale of social justice and reform with, in either case, an emphasis on faithfulness, commitment and honesty. The emotional influence of the Two often pushes this subtype out into the world, infusing their pursuits with a burning passion that, when married to the measured rationality of the One, distinguishes this type as amongst the finest and most articulate orators and political/social commentators, the unclouded reasoning faculties of the One combining dynamically with the Two's desire to connect and communicate on a profound level. Energized and more given to action than the somewhat sedentary 9 subtype, Ones with a 2 wing embody a rare combination of objective pragmatism, missionary drive and feeling- led humanity, and tend to exact a great influence upon their chosen environment, being especially given to positions of authority regardless of their chosen profession. Often polarizing and controversial figures (Mahatma Gandhi, George Orwell, Jane Fonda, Margaret Thatcher), Ones with a 2 wing don’t mince their words and will commit themselves unquestioningly to their beliefs, voicing “difficult” truths, disregarding popularity or the general consensus, following, instead, the dictates of an unshakable personal morality. As both the One and the Two are concerned with being in the right, often reluctant to admit to being at fault or subject to personal prejudices and desires, it can be difficult to call this subtype to task, or get them to acknowledge errors or selfish motivations. At this point, One’s with a 2 wing can exhibit punitive rage, the One’s sense of blamelessness forging a frightful alliance with the unblemished sense of self afforded by the Two, giving them the ability to not only justify but rationalize their destructive behaviour and prejudices, stripping them of their moral centre and ability to even tolerate a different opinion or viewpoint.
Advice
Embrace humility and accept fallibility. It’s ok to be wrong occasionally. Don’t expect others to share your high standards. Accept that there is only so much you can do and be expected to do
Some notable Ones
Mahatma Gandhi, George Orwell, Nelson Mandela, Julie Andrews, Ralph Nadar, Michael Caine, Jane Fonda, Margaret Thatcher, George Harrison, Jean Sibelius, Jodi Foster, John Barry, Prince Charles, Adolf Hitler, Joanna Lumley, “Harry Potter”, John Entwistle, Harrison Ford, Martin Luther, “Mr Spock”
Type 2; The Helper (The best friend)
The Two’s key motivation is to be needed, to be of service and to be valued. Two’s desire to protect and nurture the vulnerable, and are often to be found in the healthcare professions, working with small children, the elderly and the unwell. Two’s are compassionate, kind- hearted individuals and employ a natural practicality with a winning, seductive personal style, usually with excellent communication skills that at once create a sense of intimacy, engagement and relaxed informality. Often highly popular, the Two is everybody’s best friend, usually found at the hub of familial, social or professional groups, where they thrive in making themselves indispensable, flattering and encouraging those around them with enthusiasm, warmth and a playful, personal sense of humour. Highly empathic, Twos are remarkable astute at “feeling out” the other, reassuring the insecure, comforting the frightened and bolstering the frail. Quite simply, no society is imaginable without the energy, consideration, and the desire for union embodied by the tactile type Two. In Western culture, the female archetypes of the “Madonna and the Whore” are often reflected in the polarities of this type. In the case of the former, we see the protective maternal figure, the heart and hearth of the family, dispensing practical and moral support, wisdom and nurturing. In the latter case, the female two is often especially concerned with attractiveness, and may project a “sexy” seductive persona, placing premium on their attractiveness and commonly drawn to the archetypal “bad boy” (the reformation and seduction of which providing evidence of their irresistibility). There is often a histrionic quality to Twos that makes them natural performers and singers, an ability to put a supercharged emotionality into their expression that can connect in an immediate manner. Likewise Twos are often highly entertaining bon vivants and raconteurs, larger than life and with a gift for outrageous and often hilarious conversation. In that they almost entirely define themselves by how they are valued by others, Two’s might be in danger of feeling overlooked, slighted or taken advantage of. They might be tempted to revel in their self-perception of the selfless martyr (the archetypal “Jewish Mother”), to the extent that they are completely unaware of their underlying resentments and hostilities. Said hostility can often manifest itself in subtle put- downs and competitiveness. Unhealthy Twos can be manipulative, dispensing “guilt trips”, undermining others to assert their importance and necessity (their motto being “what would you do without me”?). Like Ones, Twos can have problems accepting their being in the wrong, and of recognizing selfish or unhealthy motivations, especially as they believe all their actions to be for the benefit of the other. Ironically, Twos at this stage alienate and antagonize those closest to them, putting themselves in the position of being a hindrance rather than a help, unreasonable, demanding and controlling, ever ready to remind others of their selflessness, generosity and self- sacrifice.
Subtypes
The 2 With A 1 Wing; The Nurturer
This subtype exhibits many of the traits generally associated with the type One, conscientiousness, reasonableness, and the desire to promote justice on a local or global scale.
Though still primarily an emotional, engaging type, Twos with a 1 wing appear more reserved, introspective and intellectually-concerned than the vivacious and expressive 3 wing subtype. There is, like the type One, a strong concern with integrity, allied with a desire to protect the vulnerable and nurture the needy. Type One contributes an ability to employ reason, as well as the distance to adjudge situations objectively that, combined with the emotionally attuned nature of the Two, endows this subtype with an ability to express themselves articulately, yet with passion. Bestowed with a universal concern, this subtype often focus their emotions outward to the end of a cause, where their clear, reasoned thinking allies superbly with their compassionate natures, making for dedicated, effective campaigners, conscientious teachers and social reformers.
Combining the polarities of the One’s objectivity with the subjectivity of the Two, members of this subtype can experience difficulties reconciling the formers’ ascetic self- control with the latter's’ expressive feeling- lead instincts, and can have issues regarding their desires and needs. Indeed, it is quite common for Two’s with a 1 wing to have eating disorders or problems with appetites in general, the One providing self- reproach and shame that tends to be absent with the more physical and sensually at ease 3 wing subtype. However, these very issues can lead healthy Twos with a 1 wing to a objective self- examination, whereby they gain insight into their own, and by extension, other people’s, motivations. This lends Twos with a 1 wing considerable powers of empathy, and an invaluable ability to articulate and “humanize” issues. Diana Spencer (Princess Di) appeared to have embodied many of the traits associated with this subtype; her emotional frankness, eating disorders, marital travails and apparent difficulties with being thrust into a very public and confining position, resonated with and moved many, an instance of that rare occurrence when an otherwise remote public figure appears as one’s intimate, confidante and best friend. Self aware and empathic, this subtype is especially suited to careers in counselling, care- giving and the nurturing of the vulnerable. However, members of this subtype often manifest some of the judgemental tendencies of One, seeing “right and wrong” in bold black and white terms, as well as a temptation to manipulatively “play the martyr” in order to gain sympathy and support. At this stage, they may have difficulty letting grievances go, identifying themselves as selfless victims and unable to recognize, let alone acknowledge, their own selfish motivations.
The 2 With A 3 Wing; The Hostess
This subtype tends to be more numerous and conveys the archetypal Two traits of gregariousness, flirtatiousness and great personal charm. The 3 wing lends this type a vivacity, verve and social instinct, making them popular and generally in demand. Two’s with a 3 wing are usually found at the hub, the centre of activity and “in the loop”, and like to be considered desirable and everyone’s best friend, big brother, or den mother. Members of this subtype are natural entertainers, and usually have a playful, even histrionic, quality that makes them stimulating and highly entertaining company. Warm and effusive, it’s difficult to resist their charms. Though they themselves may not directly involve themselves in the creative arts, they often like to be at the heart of what’s happening/current, and would wish to be recognised as a “friend of the stars”. The TV chat- show host is a typical occupation of this subtype, where warmth, human interest and playful banter combines with name- dropping narcissism and reflected glory. Lacking the solid self- belief of the 1 wing, members of this subtype might be subject to the Three’s concern with approval and, if they are creatively gifted, will need encouragement; despite their apparent bustling confidence, Twos with a 3 wing are often deeply insecure and need regular reminders that they are loved and valued for who they are, rather than what they can provide (“I must always give in order to receive”), or who they know (“They’ll value me if they see who I’m on first name terms with”).
As Three provides a certain “grass is greener” yearning, this subtype can be less “companion”- oriented in relationships, and may be reluctant to establish harmonious and equally- footed partnerships. Whilst male Twos with 3 wings commonly exhibit nurturing qualities generally associated with females, both men and women of this subtype tend to conform to fairly conventional gender stereotypes; The men are romantics who, when in relationships tend towards “control freakery” (making themselves indispensable and dominating; see Tony Blair), and when single pine after unobtainable females. The women are often attracted to roguish “real men”, often ambivalent, gender conscious “jack the lad” types (usually Sixes with a 7 wing), finding the emotional see- saw of uncertainty stimulating (“he loves me, he loves me not…). Less healthy members of this subtype tend to be strongly drawn to "the chase", with the "conquest" sourcing more from their considerable vanity than from the desire for a genuine relationship. This subtype is notably more competitive and recognition- driven than those with a 1 wing, with the Three's aspiration to High Status giving them an edge, as well as the fortitude to make it.
Advice
Acknowledge and accept your own needs, and try not to define yourself entirely by your perceived value to others. You don’t have to be loved by everyone all the time
Some notable Twos
Judy Garland, Sammy Davis Jnr, Cher, Diana Spencer, Richard Gere, George Michael, Demi Moore, John Major, Jennifer Lopez, Barry Manilow, Richard E Grant, Phil Collins, Jonathan Ross, Tony Blair, Chrissie Hynde, “Molly Bloom”, Dolly Parton, Mother Theresa, Dirk Bogarde, Tony Bennet, Brigette Bardot, Florence Nightingale
Type 3; The Achiever (epitome of excellence)
The Three’s key motivation is to succeed and be recognized as a winner in their chosen field. Threes are single- minded, pragmatic and goal- oriented, unhindered by self- consciousness or self- doubt, as well as exceptionally capable of projecting the most suitable image of themselves in order to attain their ends. These are charmers, often strikingly attractive, embodying conventional ideals of beauty and grace, being all things to all people. As such they make exceptional politicians, being tactful, shrewd and able to “get with the program”, astutely assessing the opposition, noting strengths and weakness, and being adept at changing their tune if required.
The combination of drive, energy, ambition, as well as a flexible and practical recognition of how things work, can make Threes inspiring models of capability, excellence and success. They are able to raise the bar and, when healthy altruists, can be inspiring embodiments of achievement, self- transcendence, perseverance and perspicacity. Usually endowed with impressive communication skills, Threes make excellent ambassadors or company spokespersons, capable of embodying and expressing the “mission statement” of the organization, ideology or business they represent.
However, as the Three’s primary motivation is to win (in itself necessitating that someone else must lose) there is a danger of ruthlessness, mendacity and a lack of empathy. It often appears to Threes that unless they are constantly being appraised, ostensibly succeeding or highly desirable, that they are failing and perhaps unworthy of love. Threes can run into problems by mistaking praise for love, and may choose to forsake deeper, perhaps more spiritually enhancing relationships for those that appear to boost their status (Threes are often to be found in “Power Couples”) or for callously casting off people that are no longer deemed to be of any value. Of all types, the Three tends to be the most emotionally remote and can have difficulties with identity and recognizing what they are actually feeling. Being brilliant at almost anything they turn their hand to, the average Three can have problems locating who they really are and what they actually feel. There is a danger that, with the constant projection of an ideal, the Three loses their sense of self and, by extension, any emotional or compassionate connection with those around them. Thus the world becomes a Darwinian dog eat dog bear pit, inhabited by “winners” and “losers” and, in order to maintain their position in the former, the Three will employ any means necessary, without conscience or limitation. Indeed, when denied acclaim or recognition, unhealthy Threes can be downright dangerous. Treachery, vengefulness, and malice are the order of the day with, in extreme cases, unhealthy Threes becoming sociopaths (Patrick Bateman from “American Psycho”) and serial killers. In the latter instance, the Three’s complete lack of empathy and urge to distinguish themselves (consider the warped "celebratory" status of Charles Manson) finds it’s most grotesque manifestation.
Subtypes
The 3 With A 2 Wing; The Transgressor
This subtype is extremely rare and bears some of the traits of the type Two, insofar as there is a marked concern with interpersonal relationships (as opposed to public recognition), especially those of a sexual nature. Unlike the charming and aesthetically- minded 4 wing, whose focus is on the world of impersonal, large scale acclaim, Threes with a 2 wing tend to direct their attentions to a single, often intensely private end, be it a person or an idea. With the feeling instincts of the Two complimenting the emotional detachment of the Three, members of this subtype are, when healthy, bravely able to delve into and explore the most hidden realms of human desires and consciousness, with the "human interests" of the former informing the inquisitive pragmatism of the latter. Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, is a member of this subtype and his view of sex as being the primary motivation in life, in some way tallies with the relationship- oriented focus of the type Two, as well as indicating this subtypes’ fascination with the “power plays” of human affairs and deep compulsions of our shadow side. One doesn't’ have to wholeheartedly embrace Freud’s theories to recognize his great achievements in the realms of exploring unconscious drives, and the cultural, medical and scientific influence of his work. Terms like Libido, Id, Ego and “Oedipus Complex” have entered the lexicon of everyday discourse, expanding our understanding, as well as encouraged enquiry, into what it means to be human. Freud also asks us to consider the unthinkable (Patricide/Matricide and incest, albeit on a symbolic or subliminal level), and accept disquieting, destabilizing concepts as essential aspects of consciousness. This fascination with hidden, distorted and often disturbing aspects of human nature is pertinent to this particular subtype. A disproportionate number of serial killers and sex offenders appear to be Three’s with a 2 wing (the Two's desire for intimacy distorted by the unhealthy Three's emotionally- remote tendency to see others as mere objects) , which is notable when one considers Freud’s ruminations on the uncontrollable nature of one’s deepest urges, the "polymorphously perverse" nature of sexual stimulation, and his exploration of child sexuality. Whilst the latter interest was primarily in respect to the family unit and it’s broader social ramifications, it nonetheless raises the issue of transgression, especially in that most taboo of areas, that of child/adult sexual relations, which in turn entail the concept of consent and the abuse of trust. Freud’s concern with pre- pubescent sexuality and incest illustrate an interest in the darker, concealed and potentially destructive compulsions that find their most horrifying manifestation in the sex murders of fellow Three’s with a 2 wing such as Dennis Nielson and Peter Suthcliffe.
The 3 With A 4 Wing; The Superstar
This subtype is much more common and tends to embody the more obvious Three characteristics of charm, ostensible achievement and narcissism. Unlike the other subtype, whose drive is commonly turned inwards towards the private domain, Three’s with a 4 wing focus outward, seeking a role for themselves in the world. The 4 wing appears to offer this subtype an aesthetic and universal concern that manifests as a desire (and ability) to attain high levels of excellence, as well as attractiveness, vivacity and a craving for “the love of strangers”. Fame, celebrity and recognition are the natural drivers for this subtype, often through technical and creative excellence, leading to achievements that raise standards and encourage further aspiration, be they as masters of popular melodies (Paul Mcartney, Stevie Wonder) iconic actors (Meryl Streep, Marlon Brando), consummate singing stars (Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye) or bravado performers (Freddie Mercury, Mick Jagger). Even when not motivated by the lure of fame, members of this subtype will nonetheless strive to distinguish themselves within their chosen field, and often display dazzling versatility, moving with ease from one area to the next, with chameleon- like adaptability, and are usually recognized as “players”, those who will rise through the ranks and on whom one can stake a safe bet.
The fiction of Martin Amis has largely focused on issues of status, rivalry, mendacity and manipulation, be it reversals of fortune ("Success"), literary envy and sabotage (“The Information”), elaborate deceptions (“Money”) or malicious destruction (“London Fields”), and presents a grotesque caricature of the competitive hostility, withering contempt and gross lack of conscience of the unhealthy Three with a 4 wing. Amis utilizes bejewelled, eviscerating prose, for which he has been accused of employing style over substance. This is a common charge levelled at this type, understandable in that their concern is principally with “making a name for themselves”, getting attention and/or acclaim. Perhaps the most lamentable example of this tendency is to be found in “celebrity culture” (whereby one is a celebrity by virtue of being a celebrity) those for whom fame itself is the end (described by Amis as “meteoric mediocrities”). Though most of these “celebrities” are instantly forgettable ephemera, the cultural effects of superficiality, attention- seeking and expedience means the lowest common denominator gets lower and lower. This is a shameful underutilization of this subtype’s capabilities and potential for, when healthy, they are amongst the most brilliant, disciplined, driven and potentially inspirational of individuals, offering a model of resilience, pragmatic adaptability and self- invention to which all other types might hope to aspire.
Advice
Appreciate the abilities you have, regardless of status, and without needing to measure yourself against the achievements of others. You don’t have to be perfect (perfection can be rather boring!)
Some notable Threes
Barak Obama, Felix Mendellsohn, Tom Cruise, Paul Mcartney, Igor Stravinsky, Peter Mandellson, Stevie Wonder, Sigmund Freud, Martin Amis, Nicole Kidman, Marlon Brando, Mick Jagger, Aretha Franklin, Marc Bolan, Grace Jones, Phil Spector, Meryl Streep, Freddie Mercury, Marvin Gaye, Jean Paul Sartre, Ed Gein, Gary Gilmore, Peter Suthcliff, Charles Manson,
Type 4; The Artist (the romantic aesthete)
The Four’s motivation is to express themselves, usually through creative endeavour, such as the Arts. Fours are primarily interested in their inner landscape, imagination and personal codes of reference. Emotional, sensitive and intuitive, they are especially capable of giving form to hitherto vague or hidden sensations and feelings. Fours are unconventional, misfits by design; many, having being in some way singled out for this, make a virtue of their apartness, revelling in a certain contrariness, both as a means of defiant self- assertion and protective self- concealment. Deeply self- conscious, Fours often seem awkward and withdrawn in social circumstances, and can appear to others as being aloof and “cool”. Equally they might appear dramatic, larger- than life and gregarious. For this, many may suspect the Four of being pretentious, and interpret their theatrical manner and poetic turn of phrase as being contrived. This, however, is seldom the case, as Fours are deeply concerned with authenticity, and tend to despise phoniness and protocols. Thus, many have problems reconciling the yawning gap between their soaring highs and fearful lows. Indeed, considering their sensitivity and shyness, Fours can often betray an almost confrontational demeanour, though the latter has less to do with a naturally combative streak than with the need to defend themselves against perceived threats or slights. Of the latter, Fours are especially prone, owing to a feeling of being in some way flawed, misunderstood and incomplete; this incompleteness means that Fours are perpetually in a process of “becoming”, a progression that, if positively applied, can lead to exceptional artistic innovation, and a frank self- examination that often reveals universal truths. Despite, or perhaps because of their deep sensitivity, Fours can be extremely funny, entertaining and lovable, endearingly honest about their own failings and tolerant and empathic to those of others, lending them, when healthy, excellent communication skills and the ability comprehend others at a profound level.
However, as Fours “live” predominantly in their imaginations, languishing in elaborate fantasies, they can have problems making the transit to the “real” world. Often impractical, Fours can be baffled by the “adult” domain of responsibility, employability and expediency, a tendency compounded by their dislike of the mundane, and a disinterest in anything that requires focusing away from the imagination. Natural Romantics, Fours appear both to themselves and others as being apart and somehow above the fray, idealizing childhood realms of make- believe and seeking solace from the harsh demands of the real world. The hazard for Fours is that, as their dream world becomes increasingly rich, their practical world, that of actual physical achievement, can appear at best substandard, and at worst, a mocking insult to the beauty and perfection of their imaginings. At this stage the Four may become dangerously withdrawn, alternating feverish fantasies, often aided by alcohol and drugs, with periods of lacerating self- loathing. The flawed feelings conspire with those of failure and potential unrealised and, at this stage, mental and emotional breakdown or suicide are very possible.
Subtypes
Type 4 With A 3 Wing; The Aristocrat
This type is less common than the 5 wing, and in many respects, resembles the type 3 in that there is a marked concern with prestige, status and with what seems, in terms of popular acclaim, to succeed. Sociable, friendly and talkative, this type is a lot more accessible, physically and emotionally, than the enigmatic 5 subtype, and are usually endowed with a witty, playful sense of humour and warm personal style. In some respects this subtype can resemble Twos with a 3 wing, being charming, engaging and interpersonal, but also in their feeling put upon, undervalued, and taken for granted. Both subtypes of the Four are given to self- pity and whining, the difference being 5 wings feel aggrieved by an abstract sense of alienation and neglect, whereas 3 wings feel a deficit of appreciation and respect in both their personal and professional relationships and are, therefore, inclined to actively petition for feedback, acclaim and encouragement. Indeed, this subtype combines the low self esteem of the Four with the acute status consciousness of the Three, and are consequently preoccupied with their place in the “pecking order”. If unhealthy, this subtype can be elitist and snobbishly dismissive of that which doesn't, by their reckoning, "make the grade" and can even be two- faced, in order to present themselves in a more favourable light. Often practical and tuned into popular culture, artists of this subtype tend to tailor their work to an existing audience, astutely noting what seems to work and positioning themselves accordingly, rather than trying to create a unique, unproven niche. Thus, whilst their sensitivity and talent rarely go unnoticed, they're seldom as innovative and original as those with a 5 wing. However, more than the other subtype, Fours with a 3 wing display an awareness of social dynamics, pretences and mores which they can, as in the work of Oscar Wilde, subject to brilliant satire and scrutiny, exhibiting insight and deceptively profound wit. A luminous and highly successful playwright, essayist and novelist, Wilde was also one of the finest talkers of all time. It is all too easy, when considering the tragedy of his downfall, to overlook Wilde’s remarkable literary, aesthetic and scholarly achievements. A man of brilliance and erudition, Wilde was to reflect that he put merely his talent into his work, but his genius into his life. Certainly much of that genius is lost to the annals of time; bon mots, inspired conversation, high living and tireless social climbing (for, undoubtedly good- natured and kind- hearted, Wilde was a snob). As a Four with a 3 wing, Wilde’s world was very much that of the idle elite and their attendant social graces, which is in many ways the perfect milieu for this naturally elect type.
Type 4 With A 5 Wing; The Visionary
Notably more numerous than the other subtype, the Four with a 5 wing tends to be mysterious, moody and individualistic, less practical or concerned with consensus than those with a 3 wing. This type embodies the maverick, paradigm shattering spirit of The Artist As Innovator and, consequently, tend to swim against the stream, appearing to many as exasperatingly “bloody minded” and difficult (“The Artistic Temperament”), often directed by forces that no one, perhaps not even they themselves, can perceive or understand. Highly motivated by integrity, this type combines the Five’s commitment to truth with the Fours idealism and can be, when healthy, especially empathic, self- revealing and authentic. More than the other subtype, Fours with a 5 wing place a premium on their inner world, and may have problems manifesting their ideas, often feeling overwhelmed by the demands of “real life”, seeking respite in the hot house of their imaginings. When they do, however, it is with a determination and single- minded steeliness that belies their apparent frailty. Indeed this subtype often manifests a fire, charisma and allure lacking in those of the somewhat more conventional 3 wing. It is interesting that both Four and Five are introverted types and yet members of this subtype feature prominently in any role- call of creative icons. Perhaps the intellectual seriousness of the Five acts in accordance with the individuality of the Four, lending an inner- directed self- sufficiency and affinity for abstract systems that is conducive to the commitment and resolve necessary to bring their deepest, darkest dreams blinking into the light of day.
Here we find commonality in “apartness”; Outsiders who failed to find recognition in their lifetimes (Vincent Van Gogh, Nick Drake), artists whose unpredictable singularity would defy classification or marketing strategies (Scott Walker, Miles Davis), composers who forwarded a graceful, dreamlike aesthetic (Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel), performers who transcended boundaries of both gender and genre (Prince, David Bowie) or defied the stultifying and limited scope extended to female artists (Joni Mitchell, Nina Simone, Kate Bush). What unites all these very different individuals is a sense of artistic integrity, a willingness to forsake commercial success for that of creative fulfilment, and a defiance of dominant mores and fashions. Members of this subtype often appear like fully- formed walk- ins from another dimension; that they usually feel like this is perhaps why they are, when unhealthy, especially subject to despondency, alienation and withdrawal, disregarding life as worthless and brutish. However, it is perhaps this same sense of apartness that makes the Four with a 5 wing the outsider who embodies and makes tangible otherwise hidden Universal thoughts, feelings and sensations.
Advice
Celebrate the wealth of your inner landscape with external manifestations, and don’t be perturbed by initial setbacks. Remember you are no less capable, and no more prone to misfortune, than anyone else.
Some notable Fours
Vincent Van Gogh, Kate Bush, Oscar Wilde, David Bowie, Claude Debussy, Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, Erik Satie, Nina Simone, Nick Drake, Prince, Fredric Chopin, Maurice Ravel, Kurt Cobain, Johnny Depp, David Sylvian, Tori Amos, Jeff Buckley, PJ Harvey, Syd Barrett, Gustav Mahler, Morrisey, “Gustav von Aschenbach”, Lenny Kravitz, Leonard Cohen
Type 5; The Thinker (spirit of enquiry)
The Five’s key motivation is to know, amassing knowledge and immersing themselves in systematic thought and abstract concepts. Five’s have prodigious analytical faculties, and have tremendous ability to understand complex structures and methods. They are often to be found amongst eminent scientists, mathematicians and scholars, where their powers of sustained focus, deduction and connectivity place them at the forefront of innovation and inventiveness. Like Fours, Fives can seem eccentric and socially discomfited. However, whereas Fours tend to appear enigmatic, emanating a self- conscious charisma, Fives often seem somewhat “nerdish”; here is the archetypal mad scientist, lacking social graces and interpersonally maladroit. Nonetheless, when engaged on a subject near to their hearts and considerable minds, Fives can be dazzling communicators, articulating complex concepts with ease, often with an endearing earnestness. Indeed, it is this very ability, and almost vocational zeal, to render intelligible the impenetrable and highly specialized to the layman, that distinguishes the type Five in popular culture, as typified by Professor Stephen Hawking’s best- selling elucidations of Cosmology.
The Five type is, generally, introverted and private, difficult to get to know and somewhat emotionally obtuse. It isn’t that Fives (as with type Threes) are cut off from their emotions, more that they find relationships and their attendant emotional requirements overwhelming and a bit disturbing. One of the comforts afforded by pure knowledge, information and absolute, impersonal systems is that they allow Fives an area of mobility and exploration unhampered by the illogical, capricious and downright painful business of human relations. Fives are, in fact, passionate individuals, it’s just that their passions tend to focus on the empirical, the rational and the tangible. Indeed, Fives are as capable of sustained, loving relationships as any other type, generally making committed, faithful spouses, provided they are afforded “space” and sufficient solitude.
Because Fives are, like type Fours,inner directed there is a danger of alienation, and debilitating withdrawal. Fives can simply get lost in their fields of interest, dismissing or simply neglecting to consider, the existence of an outer world or contrary viewpoint. Indeed, with so much attention paid to intellectual or abstract concepts, there is a risk of the Five’s emotional growth being stunted, with a corresponding deficit of interest in the problems, concerns and circumstances of others. Their eyes glazing over, they may shuffle in discomfort or remain mute until they can once again steer the conversation back to their home ground. Immersed in their concerns and absolutely sure of the correctness of their position, Fives can appear to be hectoring, opinionated intellectual bullies, blithely rubbishing the opinions of those who they consider ignorant or less informed. Empathy withers, and the unhealthy Five becomes a ranting voice in the wilderness, believing it is their place to inform, and yet dismayed at the incredulity of their listeners. At this juncture, they are in danger of estrangement from themselves as well as their fellows, feeling persecuted, paranoid and overcome by the kind of emotional morass they’ve tried so hard to avoid.
Subtypes
The Five With A Four Wing; The Eccentric
This rather rare subtype combines the analytical, methodical traits of the Five with the inspired expressiveness of the Four. Here the formers’ scholastic, systematic approach is merged with the intuitive sensitivity of the latter, making for original, abstract and otherworldly characters. As both Four and Five are introspective, this subtype is markedly more fragile and less grounded then those of the more robust, outer- directed 6 wing type. The Five’s emotional discomfort is somewhat compounded by the Four’s low self- esteem and, when unhealthy, this subtype can be vulnerable to alienation and mental collapse.
However, when healthy, this type is amongst the most inspirational, marrying intuition to intellect, tradition to originality and structure to spontaneity, the Four lending free- expression to the Fives love of systems and structural inventiveness.
The “Oblique Strategies” is a Tarot card-like system devised in part by Five with a 4 wing Brian Eno, whereby chance may be invoked to aid the creative process, a fitting example of a Four- like desire for the unpredictable within a Five's structured framework. This “organization of indeterminacy” illustrates not only an essential characteristic of this subtype, but provides an informative example of the difference between Fives with a 4 wing and those with a 6 wing, especially when compared to the “Serial” method associated with composer Arnold Schoenberg (see next section).
Eno marries the egg- headed inventiveness of the Five to the Four’s playful iconoclasm, using the recording studio as an instrument, allowing for the inclusion mistakes, re-assigning musician’s roles (allotting drumming duties to bass players, guitar to drummers etc), all of which illustrates this types ability to “think outside the box”, and desire to explore incongruous and seemingly irreconcilable combinations and concepts.
Another notable member of this subtype is Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, a shy, awkward loner who used the playful simple medium of pop as a template for complex, multi- layered music dramas, writing highly evolved anthems in praise of adolescent sun, fun and freedom. Rather like fellow Five with a 4 wing Michael Jackson, whose obsessive, meticulous performances and quite- literal immersion in "Neverland" provided an escape from a painful reality, fantasy seemed to offer Wilson comfort as well as a creative outlet. Indeed, the easy life of surfing, sunshine, cars and girls couldn't have been further from his nervous nature and the occasionally nightmarish world of mental distress he inhabited, but perhaps this, in itself, provides us with a key to this type's make up; the Five’s ability for detached analysis enabling Wilson to step outside of himself to a degree unimaginable to that of a confessional, self- mythologizing Four, whilst employing the latter’s love of fantasy and make believe, in order to create a wholly unique and ingenious marriage of the highly complex to the simple, immediate and engaging.
The Five With A Six Wing; The Scientist
Far more common than the other subtype, the Five with a 6 wing exhibits the “classic” Five traits of intellectual rigour, social reserve and academic brilliance. The 6 wing lends this subtype a preoccupation with rules, structure and perfectibility, as well as an outward- looking awareness of the world and where and how their fields of interest relate to it. The influence of Six imparts a desire to communicate and share knowledge, and to articulate and render comprehensible otherwise unfathomable concepts, making this subtype amongst the best teachers, scholars and scientists. Here we find an objectivity and intellectual cool- headedness that distinguishes members of this subtype as paragons of inventiveness, synthesis and discovery, the Fives abstract inquisitiveness perfectly complimented by the Sixes ability to recognize and communicate rules and structures. When the poet Stephan Mallarme declared "You don't make a poem with ideas, but with words" he was exhibiting a certain Six- like no- nonsense concern with the tangible and practical, stating that a work of Art primarily consisted of it’s components rather than the artist’s intentions. Unlike the nebulous, feeling- lead instincts that one finds in a 4 wing type, those with a 6 wing focus upon actualities, how systems can be self reliant and usable to all, rather than being dictated to by the subjective whims and feelings of the individual.
In the wake of the collapse of the diatonic musical system, composer Arnold Schoenberg devised (or, as he termed it, discovered) “Serialism”, a compositional method whereby order could be imposed upon the otherwise sonic free- for- all of Atonality, affording composers the opportunity of employing a structural certainty, and operating on an objective formal basis rather than that of pure subjective feeling. His method was continued and elaborated, notably by Olivier Messiaen and Pierre Boulez (who, in his capacity as a conductor, has been a tireless champion of much of the still largely undigested Modern “Classical” repertoire, reflecting both the Fives commitment to intellectual integrity, and the Sixes to that of communication). Problems arise when this very intellectual strength devolves into snobbery and a scathing dismissal of anything that deviates from the design, be it structural, ideological or ethical. Members of this subtype may find themselves hampered by their adherence to what they perceived to be a perfect system or an unimpeachable political or moral viewpoint, the Sixes partisanship and obsession with rules exacerbating the abstract, and somewhat self- absorbed schematics of the Five. When unhealthy, this subtype can become bigoted, judgemental and intolerant, the intellectual superiority of the Five compounded by the zealous tribalism of the Six. At this point they are in danger of repulsing the otherwise sympathetic, becoming paranoid and alienated, overlooking intuition, inspiration and the kind of openness that, when married to intellectual brilliance, manifests as genius.
Advice
Because you have remarkable intellectual gifts doesn't mean you have to employ them all the time. A little bit of dumb- down- time every now and then is the equivalent of a well-earned postprandial nap.
Some notable Fives
Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton, Olivier Messiaen, Stephen Hawking, Arnold Schoenberg, Stefan Mallarme, Brian Wilson, Brian Eno, Peirre Boulez, Patrick Moore, Herbie Hancock, Richard Dawkins, Gabriel Faure, Marie Curie, Elvis Costello, Nikoli Tesla, Isaac Azimov, Michael Jackson, David Byrne, “Leopold Bloom”
Type 6; The Partisan (us and them)
The Six’s key motivation is to belong, to achieve definition and security through identification with a group, ideology or belief system. Six’s are profoundly concerned with how they relate to others, issues pertaining to authority and their acceptance and security within the identified peer group. Essentially pack- oriented, Sixes tend to be loyal, faithful and protective to their unit, often overtly vigilant in their suspicion of “outsiders”, displaying a hostile “guard dog” stance. Conversely, they are sensitive to those who are excluded and, after a cautionary “sniffing out” are keen to take under their wing and integrate outsiders. More than any other type, the Six is aware of pariah status and the loneliness and accompanies one’s not belonging. This resonates strongly with the Sixes own sense of vulnerability, arousing their protective instincts and desire for justice and communion. For this reason, Sixes, like type Two’s, make conscientious care workers, or guardians of the vulnerable and needy. Guided by a sense of duty, Sixes can be practical, tireless team-workers, adept at galvanizing the troops and generating an esprit de corps. No matter their age, healthy Sixes retain a childlike playfulness, and a good- humoured awareness of their (and everyone else’s) fragility and foibles that is remarkably endearing. Touching also is their trustfulness and keenness to see the beauty, innocence and goodness in others. Sixes are intensely aware of collective mores and standards, even when rebellious or loners. Indeed the dissenting outsider stance adopted by many Sixes is almost entirely reactive, in that it’s defined by being in polarity to what the Six is rebelling against. Try as they may, Sixes are always in some respect reacting to an authority, and may spend their lives seeking out someone or something to believe in. In this respect, there is something masochistically Humpty Dumpty- esque about most Sixes; a process of unrealistic idealization and inevitable disappointment following the their being let down by the person, group or ideal in which they have placed absolute faith. This quality can make interactions with them tiresome as Sixes, ever keen to identify a father figure who they can look up to, a victim they can defend or a scapegoat they can blame, seldom relate on an entirely equal footing. One can feel that one constantly being tested, which sources from the Sixes anxiety, suspicion and insecurity. Indeed Sixes are, more than any type, wont to “shoot themselves in the foot”, their suspicion and “game- playing” actually driving away those to whom they want to draw closer. When unhealthy, these insecurities often manifest themselves as partisanship, an “us and them” worldview whereby the Six paradoxically seeks peace by being in conflict with an enemy. The “culture” of football hooliganism is an extreme example of this, with chanting groups, complete with tribal- team scarves and t- shirts, confront each other, more in an assertion of “identification by group- think” than a genuine desire for a fight. Indeed, when Sixes behave aggressively, it almost always sources from fear - the terrified bully beating his chest to conceal how frightened he is - rather than a show of actual strength.
Subtypes
The 6 with a 5 wing; The Frontiersman
This subtype is less common than the 7 wing, and can appear more like the type Five in that they tend to be serious, reserved and self contained, emanating an inner strength and self- sufficiency that is notably lacking in the more open and effusive 7 wing.
In many respects this type is typified by the term "the strong, silent type", and embodied by the actor and film maker Clint Eastwood. Whether the solitary Panatela- puffing, poncho- clad “man with no name” of the 1960's westerns or the rogue cop “Dirty” Harry Callaghan, Eastwood’s characters often emit a tangible solitude and steeliness that reflects the essence of this subtype, combining the Five’s independence of mind with the Sixes suspicious guardedness. Here is the archetypal tough frontiersman, the self- reliant loner, reluctant to open -up and mistrustful to a degree that, when unhealthy, borders on downright paranoia. This distrust connects to their desire for absolute independence, a tendency that's reflected in Eastwood's taking control of his career as early as possible, going on to become a respected filmmaker of integrity, thinking in the long term (purchasing the film rights of “Unforgiven” and waiting, some 16 years, until old enough to play the lead character), investing time and energy in less commercially assured ventures (“Bird”), or playing boldly against type (“The Beguiled”, “The Bridges Of Madison County”), invariably with a unimpeachable professionalism (Eastwood makes a point of delivering his films under budget and pre- deadline, an indication of the Sixes desire to be beyond reproach).
Whereas the other subtype’s exhibiting of ambivalence and anxiety is directed outward through social or interpersonal channels, Sixes with a 5 wing tend to internalise these traits, often through a concern with structural integrity and the kind of intellectual vigour one generally associates with type Five. The most cursory glance at the compositional notebooks of Ludwig Van Beethoven reveal the rigour and dedication with which he worked on his ideas, often putting a theme through a protracted process in order to arrive at a conclusion that was satisfactory both formally and aesthetically. Technical displays of compositional mastery (the Five's desire for formal integrity) are often complimented by the Sixes rebelliousness, and a challenging of established rules and limitations. There is also a sense that he is striving to convey his innermost thinking, revealing something of himself and his complexity to the listener. The Sixes urge to communicate via the prism of Fives schematic thought is perhaps exemplified by Beethoven’s utilizing Schiller’s “Ode To Joy” (“All men will be brothers”), for the Choral Finale of his 9th Symphony, indicating a strong desire for fraternity from this most taciturn and solitary man.
The 6 with a 7 wing; The Provocateur
This subtype expresses the more typical Six issues of belonging, acceptance and ambivalence, and, in stark contrast to the reserved, private 5 wing, tends to be vocal, engaging and more accessible, both companionably and confrontationally. Here the playfulness of the Seven combines with the Sixes desire for attachment, making healthy members of this subtype amongst the most lovable and loyal of individuals. However, as both the Seven and Six are somewhat ungrounded, with the Sevens’ manic compulsion compounding the Sixes anxiety, members of this type are often unstable and insecure, seeking to define themselves almost entirely by the clan or belief- system to which they subscribe, going to great lengths to attain reassurance of their membership, seeing only in black and white and, when unhealthy, vehemently opposing their perceived enemies. Whether a staunch conservative suspicious of change, or the eternal revolutionary storming the barricades, this subtype tends to run to extremes, eschewing moderation as concession, and is partisan by design, all too often defined by what they oppose as much as what they believe in.
Here we find the archetypal self- destructive “rebel” rock star (Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Sid Viscous), “jack the lad”-ishness (Rod Stewart, Liam Gallagher), histrionic “Divas” (Liza Minelli, Elton John, Whitney Houston), the voice of protest/social agitation (John Lennon, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Geldof). Unlike the private, taciturn 5 wing, members of this subtype tend to "play out" their contradictory natures and insecurities, perhaps in a subconscious bid for some outer authority to take control. Unlike the self- reliant 5 wing, members of this subtype are generally unsuited to solitude, being essentially other- oriented pack animals. Indeed, at their healthiest, Sixes with a 7 wing are brave, supportive and conscientious members of any community, exhibiting warmth, extending emotional and practical hands- on support. Acutely aware of their own vulnerability, healthy Sixes with a 7 wing are sensitive to the neediness of others and go out of their way to provide fraternity, comfort and friendship. However, the impulsiveness of the Seven can agitate the suspicion of the Six, leading to acts of self sabotage; they may extend the hand of friendship only to snap it back, ever fearful of being hurt or let down, repulsing those they wish to woo with their incessant testing. Lacking the introspective examination of those with a 5 wing, members of this subtype can exhibit ambivalence to an exasperating "Jekyll and Hyde"- like degree, alternating tough- guy strutting with child- like neediness, voluble obnoxiousness with tactful consideration, seemingly compulsive insubordination with a masochistic desire for submission, all the while demanding that someone take the control that they themselves seem unable or unwilling to exercise.
Advice
Trust yourself, and accept that it takes all sorts to make a world. Remember that we are all connected and you’re never really alone.
Some notable Sixes
Ludwig Van Beethoven, John Lennon, Clint Eastwood, Janis Joplin, Sean Penn, Jim Morrison, Bruce Springsteen, Sandra Bernhard, Pete Townsend, Robert Redford, Diana Ross, Ike Turner, Brian Jones, Liza Minelli, Rod Stewart, Whitney Houston, Elton John, Courtney Love, Sid Viscous, Liam Gallagher, Roger Daltrey, Bob Geldof, Boy George, Marianne Faithful
Type 7; The Enthusiast (the Thrill Seeker)
The Seven’s key motivation is to be entertained, to avoid tedium, to not miss out and to retain freedom. Seven’s tend to have a happy- go- lucky view of life, are drawn to the sunny, the novel and the distracting. Displaying very low boredom thresholds, they require the freedom to do what they want, when they want, as well as avoiding all things heavy and painful. Whilst this might make them appear shallow to those of a more reflective disposition, one can be sure that no other type is as adventurous, fun loving and as endowed with life- affirming zest as the Seven. Sevens tend to have boundless energy and usually remain youthful well into advanced age. There is something Puckish about them, a mischievous playfulness and irreverence that delights in deflating pomposity, offending uptight sensibilities (often with shockingly ribald language) and slaughtering sacred cows. This makes Sevens especially suited to stand- up comedy, where their quick wits, lightning responses and lack of self- consciousness provide them with the steeliness, the spontaneity and vigour to survive that often most trying profession. Sevens also seem to be singularly suited to being drummers, where their hyperactivity, demands for variety and desire to be loud can be unleashed upon vast drum kits, resplendent with thumping toms, snapping snares and splashing cymbals. Whilst they can be remarkably disciplined and, if in a suitably interesting line of work, usually unerringly professional, Sevens tend to avoid routine like the plague, and can therefore have problems with committing themselves, both in terms of career and relationships. In the latter case, Sevens often appear somewhat Satyr- like, being lecherous and sexually inquisitive. If they are to “settle down”, Sevens will need mates that can keep up with them and provide the variety and oomph they crave.
To a certain extent Sevens are, like Sixes, prone to anxiety. However, unlike the previous type who, seeking reassurance, voice their anxiety, Sevens tend to flee from it, and look for distraction. In itself, this need for perpetual diversion is relatively harmless provided it’s tempered by a healthy amount of self- examination. Alas, this is the last thing the average Seven wants to do. Sevens at this stage are not interested in addressing their deeper needs, but are set on “getting theirs” from the world. Thus, They can go into denial, adopting a smug, coarse veneer, trying, as in the case of the type Three, to project an image of contention and success. However, unlike that type, this projection is for the benefit of the Sevens themselves, and herein lies a grave danger; the flight from anxiety and discomfiting emotions often leads Sevens into unconscionable binges of sex, alcohol, drugs, shopping sprees, anything, in fact, to fill the great void that threatens to engulf them. Sadly, at an unhealthy level, Sevens can find themselves singularly ill- equipped to deal with the unavoidable vicissitudes of life, becoming hysterical, self- destructive and unable to access their natural joy and ability to ride the changes.
Subtypes
The 7 with a 6 wing; The Sprite
This subtype exhibits some of the restlessness, ambivalence and anxiety of the Six with the impetuous manic propulsion of the Seven, making them markedly more vulnerable and undisciplined than those with an 8 wing. Members of this subtype exhibit a quality of Peter Pan or the Eternal Child; often they resemble mischievous children, their conversation peppered with lewd, crude anecdotes and observations, the offensiveness of which is offset by their irreproachable twinkly- eyed innocence. Indeed, this subtype more than any is capable of retaining youthfulness, in both appearance and outlook, into advanced age. This mixture of naughtiness with ingenuousness is in many ways embodied by that archetypal child-woman Marilyn Monroe, whose well- known problems with drugs, relationships and the maintenance a demanding acting career have become the stuff of popular myth, and act as a cautionary tale of the pitfalls of fame, and the sleaze that so often seethes behind glamour. Her iconic persona, of a somewhat ditzy, doe- eyed nymph, one who seemed, without incongruity, to combine sexuality and innocence, still invites great devotion, pity and affection. Indeed, this unique mixture of the worldly and the innocent distinguishes this type, as the sunny optimism of the Seven compliments the trustful openness of the healthy Six, though the former's love of unfettered fun can be problematic when combined with the latter's anxiety. There is oftentimes something Icarus- like about this type; heady, unguarded and impulsive, with a reluctance to acknowledge, let alone apply, the breaks leading to issues concerning self- control and appetites. Whilst members of the other subtypes (or, indeed, any type), might be prone to over indulgence, addiction and burnout, Sevens with a 6 wing tend to be less defended, robust or capable of self- renewal. Robbie Williams has, in recent years, become something of a pop Pagliacci, and his transition from all- singing/all- dancing hyper- performing flea to a troubled, anxious addict- in- recovery, illustrates one of the key difficulties of this subtype. Sevens, of either wing, loathe “heaviness” and avoid pain at all cost, and are therefore in grave danger of “denial”, especially those of the less hardy and more anxiety- prone 6 wing subtype. When troubled, they will often adopt a compensatory self-satisfied persona that can be irritating in its transparent fallacy, their smug claim that “all’s well” and rather desperate cheeriness ringing hollow and fooling few, especially themselves. Unlike the hardy Seven with an 8 wing, who can blast through problems and inure themselves against pain, members of this more vulnerable subtype need to nurture themselves, acknowledge problems where and when they occur, and embrace their innocence, openness and lovable tenderness.
The 7 with an 8 wing; The Connoisseur
This subtype combines the forcefulness of the Eight with the verve and optimism of the freewheeling Seven, leading to earthy, energized individuals, endowed with both acquisitive urges and the practical abilities to satisfy them. As comediennes, they combine thick- skinned iconoclasm with an endearingly childish glee, and often use mischief and crudity as a means of conveying the tragic, fallible but hilariously human, humour being perhaps one of the most pleasurable ways of getting to know, and getting to grips with, ourselves. This rather worldly subtype is capable of galvanizing the Eight's strength in gaining material success whilst retaining an energy and enthusiasm unsullied by the often corrosive effects of experience. P-Funk pioneer and bandleader George Clinton has, over several decades and shifting line- ups, acted as a mad hatter master of ceremonies, imparting philosophical, spiritual and political ideas though infectious, joyful, and often deceptively thoughtful music- concepts (“Free your mind and your ass will follow; The Kingdom of heaven is within”). Despite Clinton’s playful personae (Dr. Funkenstein etc..), he has proved a resilient, formidable figure, capable of retaining freshness and vivacity, endowed with the practical ability to successfully manifest his ideas. This is a common and enviable trait of the Seven with an 8 wing; Moving and shaking, getting on and getting ahead, emerging unscarred by the vicissitudes and “wear and tear” of the “real world”. The downside of this apparent indestructibility is that, when unhealthy, they can be utterly amoral in their pursuit of satisfaction, the lower Eights’ unscrupulousness compounding the Sevens’ greed. There is also grave danger of intemperate overindulgence's (both Eight and Seven recognizing no limit), often with fatal consequences (Kieth Moon, John Bonham, John Belushi). However, when their appetites are channelled constructively, they exhibit a remarkable creative energy and breadth of vision, the Eight’s practicality complementing the boundless enthusiasm of the Seven.
For example, few filmmakers can match Steven Spielberg’s ability to merge a “child’s- eye” innocence (or, perhaps, cloying sentimentality) with consummate “grown up” professionalism and technique. Similarly, Mozart, though by no means the silly character notably portrayed in Peter Schaffer’s “Amadeus”, was undoubtedly a playful, irreverent fellow with a Seven's roguishness and taste for vulgar, often scatological, humour. This provided no hindrance to his writing profound and deeply moving music, and it is perhaps this alliance of the sacred and the profane that make him one of the most touchingly human artists, one in whose work we see a mirror of our earthly as well as spiritual selves.
Advice
Recognise and cultivate your innate abilities, and acknowledge your vulnerability. Remember that endless fun isn’t much fun at all.
Some notable Sevens
Steven Spielberg, Wolfang Amadeus Mozart, Bette Midler, Kieth Moon, Robin Williams, Franz Schubert, Ruby Wax, George Clinton, John Bonham, Billy Connolly, Chaka Khan, Kieth Richard, Joan Rivers, Jools Holland, Richard Branson, Tina Turner, Bill Bryson, Al Green, Ozzy Osborne, Robbie Williams, Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, John Belushi
Type 8; The Powerhouse (drive and domination)
The Eight’s key motivation is to dominate, to seize and retain control, and to imprint their will and desire upon their environment. Eights have impressive drive, strength and personal power, a natural predisposition to leadership, and the will to extend their dominion, as well as to protect themselves and those under their care. There is something quite awesome about the Eights sheer potency of purpose, their absolute certainty and fearlessness. Eights recognize that the squeaky wheel gets the oil, and are adept at having their demands met and needs fulfilled. They emanate authority, but are self- confident enough to seek advice and guidance where and when needed. Like type Ones, Eights are natural leaders, though, unlike that type, are prepared to make mistakes, acknowledging and setting right wrongs, in order to attain their objective. When positive, Eights are the most heroic of types, tirelessly fighting for justice, unconcerned by daunting odds, proud and noble and courageously prepared to put themselves at considerable risks in the interest of those who can’t fight for themselves. Eights often have strong protective instincts and can draw people around them like a magnet does iron filings. Theirs is a strength and solidity you can rely upon, an unflinching bravery you can believe in. As such, Eights make superb campaigners and politicians, not to mention formidable foes. Eights seldom shrink from a fight. Indeed, they often embody the warrior spirit of being most intensely alive when in critical danger. As a rule Eights are not to be crossed, as their fearlessness is combined with an often brutal pragmatism; to make an omelette one must break eggs, and Eights can have little compunction about trampling over others to attain their goals. When average, Eights can be insensitive to the feelings of others, boldly chasing their objective, regardless of the effect it may have on those who rely upon them.
Rather like type Sevens, Eights often have considerable appetites crossed with a low boredom threshold, often making relationships a difficult area. Eights seem to thrive on a certain amount of friction, spoiling for a fight and respecting only those with the guts to stand up to them. This they admire for, when unhealthy, Eights are contemptuous of any perceived weakness and vulnerability. At this stage they become the most cruel, despotic tyrants, acting without conscience or empathy, demanding total subordination, yet treating supplicants with unmitigated scorn and pitiless brutality, unable to respond positively to anything other than a comparative savagery. However, such force can only be retained for so long, waning as it does in the face of old age and greater might, thus unhealthy Eights are, for all their resolve, toughness and combativeness, fighting what is essentially a losing battle. Thereafter they are often broken, bitter and impotent husks, shadows of their former selves, unfulfilled, alone and unloved.
Subtypes
The 8 with a 7 wing; The Supernova
This subtype is extremely rare, and combines the passion and drive of the Eight with the restlessness and often insatiable appetites of the Seven. Charismatic, impressive and forceful individuals, Eights with a Seven wing burn brightly but often, alas, briefly, as both Seven and Eight tend towards reckless impulsiveness and a disregard for limitation of any kind, both in themselves and others. This type is unforgettable, trailblazing and capable of creating immense change; the world is seldom the same after this mercurial type is through with it. It is, for example, nigh on impossible to imagine the world of entertainment had not Elvis Presley existed. The cult of “The King”, with its attendant slew of look-alike's shows, some three and a half decades after his demise, no sign of abatement. Through Presley, African- American Rhythm and Blues was given a form that captured the imagination of a generation and well beyond; that this is such a controversial area, concerning the appropriation and remarketing of a disenfranchised people’s musical culture and one that raises profound and prickly questions about racism and authenticity, tallies with the ferocity of this subtype’s impact and power. Elvis Presley’s ascent brought with it painful reckonings, with suppressed shadowy contradictions and injustices blown into the light of day, not to mention giving birth to the cult of the teenager and, with his televised swinging hips and pelvic thrusts, blowing the lid off unfettered “in your face” sexuality. Quite simply, popular culture as we know it could not have existed had it not been for Presley, and the potent mythology he represented.
There is another, quite different and tragic Elvis mythology; that of the drugged and bloated Las Vegas entertainer, a sweating, rhinestone- clad mockery of his former physical beauty and combustible youthfulness. In submitting to the machinations of his manager, he was led away from the music he loved in into mediocre movies and an altogether tame role of the palatable all- round entertainer, the former stallion resembling a gelding. Presley, at this stage, exhibited the expediency, ungroundedness and greed that one associates with the lower Seven, and lacking the fortitude and authority one finds with Eights with a Nine wing, lapsed into the manic consumption, indiscipline and self- destructiveness that often blights members of this subtype. Though he made some marvellous records in his later years, his rich balladeers’ baritone infused with soulful pathos, his was undoubtedly a sad end, surrounded by yes- men, a TV- shooting caricature of excess and wasted potential.
The 8 with a 9 wing; The Boss
This subtype is the more common, and the influence of the Nine tends to lend a stability and perseverance lacking in the other subtype. 8’s with a 9 wing are, when healthy, perhaps the most courageous and monumentally impressive of all types, pillars of strength, fortitude and Leonine spirit. Martin Luther King Jnr provides a fine example of these qualities; resolute, brave and uncompromising, maintaining a consistent, non- violent (sturdily non- reactive) stance in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, inspiring, unstoppable and raising the moral bar to the realms of stellar heroism.
The Nine acts as a stabilizer to the comet- like tendencies of the Eight, providing patience and the will to achieve on the grandest of scales. The composer Richard Wagner devoted some 26 years to the construction of his mammoth Ring Cycle, radicalising Western music in the process, and getting a sonically and dramatically revolutionary concert hall (Bayreuth) built especially for the staging of his music dramas, exhibiting this type's resolve and seeming ability to bend the world in accordance to their will. Pablo Picasso similarly revolutionized the world of visual art with the brutal “primitivism” of “Les Demoiselles d'Avignon” and the inventive complexity of Cubism, always restlessly moving on with dazzling dynamism, energy and passion.
However, the Nine wing can lend this type a detachment that allows the soaring drive of the Eight to descend into rampant egoism, delusion and, in extreme cases, the tyrannical horrors of the regimes of Stalin or Idi Amin. As this type is naturally combative, they respond well to a challenge (there are few things more contemptible to them than a lack of courage), which animates the conciliatory characteristics of the Nine and invites examination and self- restraint. Sadly, few individuals seem able or willing to face down these formidable powerhouses, leading to tragic results, both for those under their jurisdiction and for members of this subtype themselves. Wagner, a musical giant, vain and resplendent in only the finest silks, became increasingly acquisitive, closer to greedy Alberich than noble Siegfried, his awesome Artistic achievements in stark contrast to the ruthlessness with which he used and abused friends and supporters. Similarly, Picasso seemed to buy into his own mythology (the Artist as Minotaur, mauling all in his path) wholesale, despite, or perhaps because of, waning youth, potency and vitality. Thus the creator of "Guernica" was reduced to venting spleen in schoolboy- like vulgar cartoons of urinating women. Wagner and Picasso in life (if not entirely in art), provide fitting examples of the pitfalls of this particular type; delusions of omnipotence, brutish bullying and a lamentable lack of grace and humanity.
Advice
Your capacity for compassion, resilience and self- sacrifice are godlike assets, for which you should be proud. Your ability to dominate your desire to dominate is testament to your greatness.
Some notable Eights
Martin Luther King Jnr, Richard Wagner, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Winston Churchill, Madonna, Francis Ford Coppola, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Joseph Stalin, James Brown, Pablo Picasso, Barbra Streisand, Oprah Winfrey, Roger Waters, Dr. Phil, Whoopi Goldberg, “Captain Janeway”, Judge Judy, Idi Amin, Richard Burton, Henry Ford
Type 9; The Peacemaker (the wishful thinker)
The Nine’s key motivation is to be at peace, to create a calm, untroubled environment without disruption or unwelcome change. Nines are perhaps the most gentle type, often with a somewhat vague, dreamy air about them, with a tendency to exercise a serene, becalming effect upon their milieu. As such, they, like type Twos, are exceptionally suited to care work, especially for the elderly or mentally distressed, where their patience, consideration and peaceable demeanour provide reassurance, comfort and stability. Rather like types Four and Five, Nines have a rich inner world, and are apt to daydream and make indistinct plans that may or may not be realized. Unlike Fours (who yearn for the actualisation of fantasies), Or Fives (whose systematic thoughts aim towards logical conclusions), Nines are just as happy to let their imaginations wander, being unbothered by passing time, or life following a set direction. If type Fours’ inner music is a melancholy tone poem, and the Fives’ a strict five part Fugue, then the Nines may be comparable to a free- flowing Rhapsody coloured with contrasting moods and resplendent with an air of spontaneous inspiration. Nines often make great artists when their dream- like wanderings are tempered by the rigour of discipline, consistency and application. Nines are strongly drawn to fairy tales, the simple, straightforward morality of childhood stories and make believe, where good triumphs over evil, and all ends happily ever after. Often accused of being unrealistic, or in denial, Nines quite simply want to maintain tranquility, and sustain constant, unchanging relationships. More than any other type, Nines tend to dislike adjustment, preferring the familiar, often reluctant to stray too far from the nest, or expand their social circle. Whilst the latter is admirable in that it highlights the Nines loyalty, their usually being reliable chums (unlikely to discard friends through boredom or over- familiarity), it also illustrates the Nines discomfort with moving on. Nines often entertain a not entirely accurate relationship with the past, friends and family; childhood is commonly idealized, troubling traumatic experiences glossed over or airbrushed out entirely, all to maintain the Nines peace of mind. Most Nines have a tendency to sweep things under the carpet, go into denial and stubbornly uphold their worldview, regardless of the evidence staring them in the face. At this stage Nines can exhibit hostility and even two- faced bitchiness. Nines, in fact, can be extremely antagonistic, though it usually manifests itself in backbiting, passive- aggression and subtle, indirect put- downs (the type that can easily be denied). Though they themselves elect indolence, Nines can be remarkably resentful and undermining of companions moving forward, levelling accusations of abandonment. This is often unfair as it is the Nines decision to stay put, rather than join in and set off. Unhealthy Nines are almost impossible to “get through to”, adopting an ostrich position, indulging in unwarranted notions of victimhood, refusing to communicate only other than to blame anyone who has allowed reality to shatter their bubble.
Subtypes
The 9 With An 8 Wing; The Diplomat
The majority of Nines fall under this subtype, with the 8 wing providing a solidity that helps keep these otherwise dreamy individuals firmly grounded. Members of this type combine the gentle, easy going nature of the Nine with the Eight’s constancy, strength and a firm perseverance that can occasionally manifest as mulish stubbornness, but, when healthy, appears as a stabilizing and supportive tranquillity and a reliable regularity of habit and temperament. Members of this subtype emanate waves of tranquility and are, despite their reticence, usually very popular and much loved.
Diffident diplomats, this subtype is adept at diffusing tensions, bringing levity with light humour and often, by their gentle equanimity, shaming combative elements into the seeking of workable and peaceful agreement. The latter consideration may put one in mind of Ringo Starr navigating his way through the neurosis, power struggles and conflicts of his fellow Beatles, maintaining an engaging, jovial and, by all counts, genuine niceness, as well as a “down to earth” quality that is both rare and refreshing in one of his vaunted stature. The Eight also lends this type a fortitude that enables them to "stay the course" where others waver and an enviable ability to "tune out" unpleasantness and hindrances, slowly but steadily getting on with what needs doing with both grace and uncomplaining goodwill.
Members of this subtype are usually sociable and make splendid team players, but seldom take the lead, preferring to remain in the background. Both Nine subtypes tend to fear exposure, or at least, are reluctant to forcibly impose their vision upon the world, and this is especially true of those with an 8 wing, who often lack the single- minded, self- directed motivation required to attain goals, sometimes even subtly sabotage themselves and others by their lassitude and reluctance to follow through, take risks and put themselves “out there”. It is often extremely difficult to cut through the fug of denial that envelops them, and one may feel as if one’s talking to a wall. At this point the buried but nonetheless real aggression of the Eight presents itself as subterfuge, undermining and subtle bullying, the combativeness and hostility of the lower Eight married to the deceptiveness and resentment of the lower Nine. Such behaviour is in stark contrast to the apparent peaceful, kindliness of the Nine, but the illusion of unimpeachable equanimity is nonetheless stubbornly maintained, accompanied by a stolid refusal to acknowledge and rectify such destructive behaviour, instead resorting to blaming others, scapegoating, and a stupor of self- pity.
The 9 With A 1 Wing; The Dreamer
Less numerous than those with an 8 wing, this subtype exhibits some of the classic type One traits of personal reserve and emotional remoteness which, when combined with the diffidence of the Nine, makes for somewhat repressed and nervously delicate individuals. However, the Nines identification with unsullied innocence is complemented by the principled integrity of the One, the latter lending practical faculties and a desire to articulate and share ideals that, when combined with the formers’ richly creative inner world, endows this subtype with excellent expressive skills and an ability to comprehensibly structure their nebulous, metamorphic imaginings. Thus this subtype is, when healthy, amongst the most brilliant of artists, often specializing in enchanting tales capable of transporting it’s audience to fantasy worlds (Lewis Carroll), paintings that meld the idealized half- remembered with the imagined (Marc Chagall), or music rich in reverie and a lulling serenity (David Gilmour).
Members of this subtype are often misidentified as Fours (especially those with a Five wing) in that their imaginative, inner world informs so much of their reality; indeed, like Fours and markedly unlike Nines with and Eight wing, these types tend not to identify, and often feel somewhat estranged from, their familial and peer groups, appearing withdrawn, sensitive and socially uncomfortable, preferring to retreat into their inner world. When creative and disciplined, this can be fruitful and conducive to the well being of this type, providing both an outlet for their imaginings and a means of connecting with others. Likewise, positive collaborative endeavours (especially with a more motivated, aggressive type) can afford a fruitful interaction that can engage them without impeding upon their all- important peace of mind.
Both Nine subtypes are wont to getting stuck in ruts, reluctant to embrace change or adapt to the unfamiliar. However, whereas those with an 8 wing strive to maintain long- held relationships and situations, Nines with a 1 wing often languish in nostalgia, hankering after a bygone and idealized past, rejecting and disturbed by the imposition of an unwelcome present. The grave danger here is that, unlike the other subtype, the Nine with a 1 wing’s sought- after state isn’t necessarily consolidated by an external corporeality (such as friends and family), which leaves them prone, in the event of disillusionment, to profound alienation and depression. The reserve of the One becomes inhibition and reproach, the Nines’ passivity turning to paralysis and helplessness, leaving them feeling marooned and lost, with the merest and most tentative grip on reality.
Advice
Your peace and serenity are wonderful assets to humanity, so share them by developing your gifts. Let them grow and let them go, and remember that you don’t have to try to maintain continuity as change itself is continuous.
Some notable Nines
Marc Chagall, Lewis Carrol, David Gilmour, Carl Jung, Ringo Starr, Janet Jackson, Anton Bruckner, Peter Green, Steve Buscemi, Frank Bruno, Stan Laurel, James Stewart, Neil Tennant, Richard Wright, David Beckham, Sean Connery, Perry Como, "Boxer"
George Orwell - An Enneagram profile
The following was first published in the International Enneagram Association's bulletin, "Nine Points", June 2011
“In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act”.
Novelist, essayist and journalist, George Orwell (1903- 1950) is, for many, an icon of integrity, moral courage and objective candour, and embodies most of the key defining characteristics of the Enneagram type One (The Judge, The Moral Crusader, The Truth Seeker).
His works of fiction, journalism and criticism are distinguished by a concern with injustice, oppression and the manipulation of language, and by his commitment to succinct, lucid writing, with prose “as clear as a window pane”.
The term Orwellian has entered the lexicon of everyday speech, conjuring images of an impersonal, sinister surveillance culture where impartial truth has no meaning, dissent impossible, and one is denied a private life, ever conscious of being watched by “Big Brother”. His liking for clear, concise language reflects the type One’s desire to plainly articulate and share ideas without ambiguity or fear of misreading. Indeed, Orwell was keenly aware of how language and meaning were subject to manipulation, with meanings inverted (“War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery”), near- brutish simplification rendering nuance impossible, and hectoring sloganeering replacing reasoned argument.
The assault on factual reality represented by the Totalitarian regime of “1984”, where 2 + 2= 5 and Oceania’s enemy changes to an ally in mid- sentence, represents perhaps the gravest insult to the type One sensibility, which is concerned primarily with truth, integrity and reason, and constitutes an assault on their most cherished commitment to unprejudiced, dispassionate objectivity.
Not toeing the Party Line
In “Homage To Catalonia”, an account of his experiences during the Spanish Civil war, Orwell recounts his arrival in Barcelona, and the almost festive atmosphere of post- revolutionary egalitarianism. Displaying the One’s occasionally discomfiting frankness, Orwell confesses that he isn’t entirely at ease with lack of servitude (being, after all, an old Etonian intensely aware of his class), but recognizes at once that it is worth fighting for. This is a perfect illustration of the healthy Objective One’s ability to identify and serve a greater good, as well as experience and record events with a refreshing honesty; Orwell isn’t trying to endear himself to the reader but acknowledges the class- consciousness he has inherited and still, to an extent, shares. In voicing his less “charming” atavisms Orwell presents himself as a writer who values unflattering (of himself and others) integrity over false piety and can, consequently, be relied on to provide a fairly accurate testament of events.
Having volunteered his services to the idealistic, if simplistic, end of fighting Fascism, Orwell was assigned to the POUM worker’s militia, where he had first hand experience of authentic collectivism, the incompetence and naivety of which he records with the cool, judicial eyes of a One, the implicating being (as is usual with this Enneagram type), that he knows better and is evidently disposed to leadership. Here Orwell displays one of the difficulties idealistic Ones have; that of reconciling their desire for equality with their belief in, or recognition of, their own suitability for governance. Impartial, realistic troubleshooters, type Ones are utterly dismayed when confronted with ineptitude, wastefulness and the kind of impractical Romanticism Orwell encountered amongst the militias and collectives of revolutionary Spain.
This, however, was a trifle when compared to the horror of his being confronted with the brutality of the “official” ideology for, or with whom, he was ostensibly fighting, when the Communist party viciously suppressed their supposed comrades in arms in the collectivist militias. Recognizing Communism (in the especially grotesque form of Stalinism) as being every bit as totalitarian, oppressive and unjust as Fascism, Orwell was faced with the choice of “toeing the Party line”, accepting that the threat of Fascism demanded a somewhat compromised unity from the Left (a “united front”), or confronting the deceit and “doublethink” head on. Orwell’s commitment to objective truth and justice meant his recognizing and acknowledging “our” (Socialism) evil as being every bit as damnable as “theirs” (Fascism); worse in fact, insofar as the former purported to protect the interests of all, and was, with the tyranny of Stalinist oppression, betraying the good faith and allegiance of many decent, sincere people.
In choosing to go where his conscience dictated, Orwell displays the healthy type Ones courageous commitment to often discomfiting truths, eschewing compromise and convenient falsities, and prepared to put themselves outside the general consensus to the end of fairness, honesty and decency. Ones may often feel like Prophets howling unheard in the wilderness, and Orwell was undoubtedly exasperated by the moral cowardice of many former fellow travellers. Indeed, the Gollancz publishing house rejected the book as it went against the official political party line and, to this day, many on the Left regard Orwell as something of a counterrevolutionary.
The Judgemental Critic
For all his impartiality, Orwell wasn’t above a certain amount of sniping and prejudice himself. In “The Road To Wigan Pier”, during a discourse on some of the issues confronting the Leftwing movement, Orwell makes derisory comments about supposed single- issue Socialists (what we would now perhaps refer to as proponents of “Identity Politics”). Referring to Feminists and Vegetarians as cranks and weirdoes (“out of touch with common humanity”), Orwell accuses these individuals of being guilty of alienating potential supporters, in this case, “the average working man”. Here Orwell makes a common type One error; that of assuming their view as being not only correct, but Universal and, in that Orwell himself finds these individuals somewhat repulsive, it is assumed that the mass generality would too.
Here also is a certain impersonal hauteur that is common in average to unhealthy Ones, in that they are inclined to make decisions and draw conclusions on behalf of people they neglect to consult, and about whom they know nothing. The “ordinary man” and the “cranks” are mere abstractions, and with scathing comments about “bearded fruit juice drinker(s)”, Orwell descends into the downright bigotry of the punitive, unhealthy One. Who, also, was/is the “average working man” about whom Orwell freely makes assumptions, in this case that of a monolithic entity incapable of seeing beyond “crankishness” in order to make a reasoned judgement for himself?
Orwell displays a certain superciliousness, considering himself, as the educated social superior, as all the better to judge, and the working man as being a rather unreflective drudge, one who is, as in the case of Boxer from “Animal Farm”, ennobled whilst at the same time treated with condescension.
The Social Reformer
In “Down And Out In Paris And London” Orwell relates his experiences as a near- starving Scullion, of rough sleeping and the degradation of lowest doss- houses in those cities; as a conscientious, authoritative One, Orwell believed it wasn’t enough to pontificate about the horrors of poverty from the relative comfort of a literary milieu, and to provide a rock solid case against inequity, the voice of experience was also that of inarguable authority. Orwell censors little, and recounts a catalogue of destitution, poverty, overwork, flea- infested mattresses, pawn shop humiliations, scant food, hopeless and desperate trudging (in search of work or a bed), the trials of which were etched into his face, which had aged dramatically in this relatively short (if experientially long) period. Indeed, in his going down and out, Orwell exhibited the One’s commitment and ideological integrity that also lead to both the battlefields of Spain and the Colonial Police force in Burma (where he was exposed to the hypocrisy, mendacity and injustice of the Colonial system). Simply put, the type One will “put their money where their mouth is”, and Orwell exhibits the “Moral Crusader” characteristics of this type, in that his life seemed to comprise of a search for a cause to which he could commit. However, unlike, say, the type Six who wishes to identify with a group/cause to alleviate anxiety and primarily to belong, the type One is compelled by an ideological drive to set wrongs to right, to apply their considerable gifts of impartiality and reason to the cause of improvement and balance, and is guided by a moral compass that renders them unable to countenance corruption, falsity and injustice. To this end, the morally impelled type One is prepared to denounce and dismiss former comrades and ideological allegiances regardless of how it may alienate them or put them in a sort of political limbo; this Orwell was to do with his last and greatest masterpieces, “Animal Farm” and “1984”.
"The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which." (“Animal Farm”)
There has seldom been a more bitter and tragic conclusion to a story as that of “Animal Farm”. The pigs prove to be every bit as exploitative and unjust as the despotic farmer had been, and the guiding commandments are amended to insure that whilst “all animals are equal” some are now “more equal than others”. Watching the pigs (Soviet leaders) totter on two legs like the men (Capitalists) they seek to imitate, some of the animals recall a time when the liberated creatures of animal farm recited something about “four legs good, two legs bad”, but are now so inured to lies, slogans and reversals that they can no longer be sure.
In this most anguishing allegory, Orwell eviscerates the grotesque corruption, brutality and betrayal of the Soviet regime (caricaturing Stalin as the pig Napoleon) and the tragic consequences this had upon the mass of citizens, supposedly now living in a “people’s” utopia.
The emotional reserve of the One often masks an intense and profound passion, and this is here given voice in the form of a children’s fable, allowing the author a certain amount of distance whilst at the same time providing an engaging narrative setting for righteous outrage, disgust and despair.
In “Animal Farm” Orwell explored not only the corruptibility of absolute power, but also the employment of slogans to shout down dissent (the sheep repetitively bleating Squealer’s mantras), as well as the manipulation of language to distort reality.
This latter theme formed the ideological backbone of “1984”, where “Ignorance Is Strength” and the subtleties of language are jettisoned to usher in an era of “Newspeak” and correspondingly corralled consciousness. Winston Smith represents the last man, clinging to the notion of individual free consciousness and objective truth, holding out hope that the “proles”, like the livestock of “Animal Farm” (once again Orwell’s ennobled, if condescending view of the Working Class) recognize their power and rise up, and that dissent is possible in the face of a brutal and all- encompassing regime of tyranny.
However, through betrayal, torture and brainwashing, Smith denounces his lover Julia (personal, private relations), learns to see five fingers where there are four (loss of objective reality), and loves “Big Brother” (abdication and abjection of sense of self), pathetically and placidly awaiting execution. It isn’t enough for the party to simply kill Smith (described by O’Brien as “a flaw in the pattern”), but that he must be psychically and morally destroyed, with no sense of reality other than that dictated to by the party.
The annihilation of free will, conscience, objective truth and personal authority are to Orwell as they are to most One’s, the most profoundly evil and morally reprehensible of crimes, in that they the rob the individual of what in essence makes them creatures of reason and moral awareness.
Orwell’s life as much as his writing provide us with a symbol of the many admirable traits of the type One, conscientiousness, impartiality and a commitment to justice and, minor and petty prejudices aside, give us an insight into the motivations of this most morally compelled, objective and unflinchingly honest Enneagram type.
Pablo Picasso; An Enneagram Profile
The following was first published in the International Enneagram Association's bulletin, "Nine Points", September 2011
“Every act of creation is first an act of destruction”.
Born Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso, 25th of October 1881, Picasso is considered one of the figureheads of Modern Art and perhaps the towering Artistic personalities of the 20th century. His ferocious creative energy, single- minded determination and all- encompassing passion bear the hallmarks of the Enneagram type Eight (The Boss, The Dominator, The Powerhouse), as indeed does his impulsiveness and occasional cruelty and destructiveness.
“My mother said to me, 'If you are a soldier, you will become a general. If you are a monk, you will become the Pope.' Instead, I was a painter, and became Picasso”.
From an early age, Picasso exhibited a notable combination of talent and self- belief and, throughout his life, was to leave an indelible impression upon all that he encountered. His Art teacher father recognised that, barely out of boyhood, his son was already a greater artist than he himself could ever hope to be, and thus devoted his attention to the tutoring and encouragement of Pablo’s nascent genius. At the behest of his father, the thirteen-year-old Picasso was allowed to take the entrance exam for the advanced class in Barcelona’s School of Fine Arts. The examination process usually lasted a month but Picasso was admitted after just one week and, whilst some of the staff had misgivings about the youth’s lack of discipline, they recognized that his exceptional talent demanded that exceptions be made in his favour.
This seeming ability to bend the world in accordance with his own purpose tallies with the Eight- like dictum that “the squeaky wheel gets the oil”, and this was perhaps the first of many instances of Picasso’s being assured of his authority and special ness, of being governed only by his talent, vision and willpower, and being exempt from the standards and limitations of ordinary men.
Another early example of Picasso’s sense of omnipotence is illustrated by his response to his little sister Conchita’s illness and subsequent death; On Conchita’s falling sick with diphtheria, Picasso made “a deal with God”, promising to forsake his great passion, painting, if his little sister was spared (the Eight’s autonomy lending this son of Catholic Spain the belief in his ability to bare- facedly bargain with the Deity). After her apparent recovery, Picasso resumed painting, only for Conchita to suffer a relapse and die. Thereafter Picasso felt himself somewhat cursed by God and, to a degree, culpable for Conchita’s death. However, rather than seeking divine forgiveness for this transgression, any potential remorse quickly modulated into righteous wrath, with Picasso displaying the Eight’s customary combativeness and sense of defiance, taking up the gauntlet with an ever stronger determination to play purely by his own rules and a refusal to recognize any authority other than his own. It may have also fostered in Picasso a dread of human vulnerability that, in later life, often manifested as cruel disdain for what he perceived as “weakness”, as well as a conviction that all human relations were touched by tragedy and loss, and from which he would have to protect himself, even if at the expense of others.
“I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition”
The death of his sister, and its attendant suffering was expressed, often with remarkable tenderness, in Picasso’s first great paintings. The former is observable in “The First Communion”, a technical tour de force that exhibited both Picasso’s remarkable draughtsmanship and mastery of “academic” oil painting (at the enviable age of fifteen), but also a natural gift for symbolism (with an extinguished candle commemorating the late Conchita). Likewise, much of the work of the “Blue” and “Rose” periods (notably 1901’s “la Vie” and 1905’s “La Famille de Saltimbanques” respectively) is infused with humanity, sadness and sympathy for the dispossessed (represented, in the latter, by nomadic Circus performers) and the transience and fragility of life. This stands in stark contrast to the bustling confidence and verve of much of Picasso’s work, and illustrates the Eight’s immense capacity for compassion. Though often concealed, healthy Eights are amongst the most heroic individuals, their solidity, strength and courage making them formidable champions of the defenceless and powerless. Like fellow Eight Martin Luther King Jnr (though markedly without the consistency, selflessness and religiously- ordained conviction), Picasso was deeply moved by injustice and suffering, and sought redress, albeit through the medium of Art.
“What do you think an artist is? An imbecile who has nothing but eyes if he is a painter….? Quite the contrary, he is at the same time a political being, constantly aware of what goes on in the world, whether it be harrowing, bitter, or sweet, and he cannot help being shaped by it. How would it be possible not to take an interest in other people, and to withdraw into an ivory tower from participation in their existence? No, painting is not interior decoration. It is an instrument of war for attack and defence against the enemy”.
This sentiment informs 1937’s “Guernica”, painted as a response to the carpet- bombing of the Basque village by Spanish National and Nazi German forces. “Guernica” is one of the most viscerally terrifying works of art, resplendent with agonized images of fear and violence, demonstrating, in a complex and demanding composition, (reminiscent of Monet’s massive curved canvases which encompass and overwhelm the viewer) the technical virtuosity and aesthetic grandeur of Picasso’s vision. Here, the suffering of anonymous innocents is elevated to the majestic tragedy of religious iconography, such as The Crucifixion or Pieta, a connection that is suggested by the stigmata shown on the hands of the fallen soldier. Picasso’s imaginative vitality and gifts for cultural synthesis (famously exhibited in 1907’s “Les Demoiselles d'Avignon”, which utilized African- style masks) are here exercised on a grand scale, with the use of newsprint and a light bulb (as the sun) contemporizing the work, a hint of the Corrida in the Bull’s goring of a horse, and the bold frieze format suggestive of the partisan, political murals found in war torn, divided communities.
“God is really only another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant and the cat. He has no real style, He just goes on trying other things”.
If, as an artist, Picasso is distinguished by any particular trait, it is arguably his tireless inventiveness and experimentation. Whereas most of his predecessors and contemporaries tended towards a process of apprenticeship, exploration and, on finding their natural metier, consolidation within a particular style, Picasso, as an unfettered Eight, took a less restricted approach, often venturing beyond the aesthetic, formal and material confines of what was generally considered to be Art, and generating seismic shock waves that can still be felt today. 1907’s “Les Demoiselles d'Avignon” did for the art of painting what Igor Stravinsky’s “Le Sacre Du Printemps” (1915) did for that of music; both revolutionary works were greeted with as much disgust and dismay as they were with enthusiasm and favour and created massive schisms (between the “traditional” and the “innovative”) that remain unresolved. Indeed, like his fellow diminutive firebrand, Picasso delighted in baffling his supporters as much as his critics, many of whom were perturbed by his seeming unfaithfulness to any aesthetic school. No sooner had Picasso, along with Georges Braque, devised Cubism, than the former started producing work of a neo- Classical nature (as, indeed, did Stravinsky, following the highly complex “primitivisms” of “Le Sacre”). Neo- Classicism was generally considered a sort of “return to order” following the myriad upheavals of the early 20th Century, but for Picasso was simply a stop on a path of perpetual revolution and creation. The driven impulsiveness of the Eight is evident in Picasso’s “impatience” and hunger for new artistic outlets (collage, sculpture, printmaking), as well as his voracious consumption of any available objects and free surfaces to the end of artistic creation; in a fascinatingly imaginative display of the Eight’s desire to co-opt and posses their environment, Picasso would sculpturally convert a discarded bicycle seat into a Steer’s head and an upended toy Volkswagen into that of a Gorilla, scribble on napkins and table cloths and, charmingly, assemble a ladder for a visiting frog.
Such relentless adventurousness and creation reflect both the Eight’s God- like dominance of their surroundings, and their occasional inconsistency and sense of unassailability. To maintain impeccable standards throughout such impetuous experimentation would test the talent of any artist, even one as gifted as Picasso, who occasionally appeared to be issuing a challenge in presenting work that appeared substandard, exhibiting not so much technical mastery as the masterful strut of the assured tyrant. Such mischief undoubtedly reflects a Harlequinesque aspect of Picasso’s personality (he famously had a playful, even clownish, quality), but more credibly indicate the confrontational side of the Eight, daring anyone to criticize his work and bullishly spoiling for a fight.
“If all the ways I have been along were marked on a map and joined up with a line, it might represent a minotaur”.
Picasso often likened himself to (and portrayed himself as) the Minotaur, a figure from Greek mythology endowed with the head of a bull and the body of a man, who is imprisoned in the Cretan Labyrinth and appears in Dante’s “Inferno”, dwelling amongst “men of blood”, those condemned for violent natures. The marriage of mythology, the bestial and superhuman, provide an interesting insight into Picasso’s self- appraisal, that of being an elemental force of (super) nature, given to intense and even savage appetites, a God- like sense of limitless potency, remarkable willpower, and disregard for conventional morality, all of which are recognisable, if extreme, manifestations of the type Eights’ personal power, dominance, fearlessness and limitless determination; indeed, Eights are oft likely to regard any attempted dissent or curbing of their appetites as the proverbial “red rag to a bull”, inviting brutal counterattack and an unforgiving hostility. The creative and destructive fervour of Picasso’s work was reflected in his personal relationships, with his contemptuously discarding (after goring) those who refused to stand up to him, and leaving countless “casualties” in his wake.
“There are only two types of women - goddesses and doormats”.
“After Picasso, God”. Thus spoke Dora Maar, the beautiful, gifted and much admired muse who Picasso had reduced to “The Weeping Woman”, both in Art and life. Why would an intelligent and talented woman remain so infatuatedly devoted to someone who had treated her with such wanton cruelty and contempt? At least two of his lovers (Marie-Thérèse Walter and Jacqueline Roque) committed suicide and his children, especially his alcoholic eldest son Paul, had traumatic relations with him, all of which are harrowing manifestations of the unhealthy Eight. Devoid of compassion and utterly destructive, Eights at this point will trample upon anyone in their path and can only respond favourably to a show of strength. That so few of Picasso’s friends, family and lovers were willing to stand their ground and face him down, proved to be as tragic for him as it was for them, with the artist destined to die an angry, embittered old man, raging against waning potency and power, apparently once telling his son Paul that, as he was young and Picasso himself old, he hated him.
Picasso’s descent, from energized creator to enervated destroyer warns of the pitfalls that await the unhealthy Eight, destined to repeat the fate of the God Cronus who, having overpowered his father Uranus, devoured his children in a fruitless attempt to maintain power. Nobody welcomes obsolescence, especially not a potent powerhouse like Picasso, but old age and the attendant ascent of new kings make withdrawal from the arena inevitable. It is wretched that, for Picasso, this was done under duress and with little dignified acceptance, and that he ended his life a broken, if still brutal, old bull, beset with resentment and unquenchable fury, rather than with the fulfilment and grace that such an immense talent deserved.
John Lennon; An Enneagram Profile
The following was first published in the International Enneagram Association's bulletin, "Nine Points", January 2012
John Lennon is one of the great icons of rock music and popular culture. As a member of the Beatles he played a key role in transforming pop music from simple bubblegum entertainment into an increasingly complex medium, and as a campaigner for peace he stood at the foreground of rock's ascent as a force for social, political and cultural change.
Yet Lennon himself was a mass of contradictions; a man of peace with an infamous violent streak who was involved in several high profile aggressive episodes, who sang "imagine no possessions" to accompanying footage of himself strolling through his vast Surrey mansion, and a man who castigated authorities and yet spent his life searching for an ideology or father figure to believe in. These traits reveal Lennon as an Enneagram type Six (The Partisan, The Loyalist, The Questioner).
"I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together"
John Lennon was always the wild card in The Beatles pack, less predictable or professionally tactful than his fellows, and as likely to summon a storm of controversy than to launch a charm offensive. Where Paul McCartney was cute and diplomatic, Lennon was controversial, infamously comparing the Beatles popularity to that of Jesus. Where George Harrison was taciturn and subdued, Lennon was animated and expressive. Where Ringo Starr was sweet and straightforward, Lennon was caustic and complicated, baffling friends and associates with rapid changes of temper, ideology and interests.
Yet, as a Six, Lennon was a paragon of paradox (once describing himself as ("part monk, part performing flea"), displaying diplomacy and wit when fired by a deep conviction, (such as World Peace), tireless spiritual and intellectual inquisitiveness, and a great empathy that allowed him to engage his audience on a profound level.
"As soon as you're born, they make you feel small"
Sixes are commonly defined by their relationship to authority, either trying to win it's approval or defiantly tilting against it. In the latter case, the Sixes rebelliousness often sources from a sense of distrust which, in turn, might have its roots in the distress they experience at discovering the fallibility of the father/authority figure. The Six might, early in life, have been confronted with painful and even impossible decisions, or found themselves in an unstable environment. However, rather than developing a sense of self reliance, the Six often goes through life as a somewhat wounded child in search of assurance, boundaries and belonging.
For John Lennon, the die was cast by his parents' separation when he was a small child, a painful scenario that culminated in a harrowing episode whereby he was asked to choose between his father, Fred, and mother, Julia. Facing both expectant parents and a devastating dilemma, little John initially chose Fred, upon which Julia fled in tears. John then ran after his mother, crying that he now chose her. In what turned out to be a cruel twist, Julia then placed the already traumatized boy in the care of her childless sister. John's aunt Mimi was undoubtedly a decent and goodhearted woman who did her best as a responsible guardian. However, her conventional and somewhat uptight manner was in stark contrast to that of John's jovial and playful parents (who were musical, theatrical and generally considered "characters") and was to invite antagonism from her deeply insecure and damaged nephew.
Lennon retained a deep hurt and sense of abandonment from these experiences, feeling himself to have been deceived (committing himself to his mother, but getting his aunt instead) and rejected (why, he wondered, didn't his father fight for him?) by those he loved and needed the most, and a cauldron of rage and sense of injustice burned in him, infusing many of his songs with an incendiary passion, pain and visceral fury.
His 1970 album, "Plastic Ono Band", frankly confronts these painful issues. Recorded after a period of Primal Therapy (whose founder, Arthur Janov, proved to be another in a line of idealized and then rejected father figures) with Lennon reeling from the Beatles break up, a failed marriage and heroin addiction, this was the artist laid bare, free of audience expectations. The album opens with "Mother" (to the sound of tolling bells for Julia, who died when Lennon was fifteen) with an accusatory Lennon excoriating his parents for not wanting/needing him before, at the songs climax, devolving into a terrified little boy screaming for his parents ("mamma don't go, daddy come home"). Here is archetypal Six ambivalence; the authority figure is condemned for their failures, yet masochistically cried out for. Where another personality type might be inclined, on being disappointed or hurt, to cut their losses and move on, the Six finds it exceptionally difficult to let go of both the pain of being let down and the ongoing need for the protection and approval of the authority figure.
The Self- Defeating Masochist
As with many Sixes, Lennon's life was spent in search for an ideal person or belief behind which he could place his considerable zeal, and followed a pattern of child- like enthusiasm followed by disillusion, and culminating in bitter and childishly petulant recrimination. Lennon was like the little boy who, despite discovering that Santa Claus is actually his father, never quite relinquishes belief that the "real" Santa Claus is out there somewhere, and is thus set on a path of masochistic disappointment as the flesh and blood mortal or abstract ideology fails to meet the lofty demands of the Six's ideal. Lennon's parents, business managers (Brian Epstien, Alan Klein), gurus (The Maharishi, Arthur Janov) and ideological allegiances (Flower Power, Radical politics) were all initially championed, before being found flawed, and finally discarded and lacerated, with Lennon using the medium of song to vent spleen (The aforementioned "Mother" for his parents, "Steel And Glass" and "Baby Your A Rich Man" for Klein and Epstien respectively and "Sexy Sadie" for the Maharishi).
Two songs from "Plastic Ono Band", "I Found Out" and "God" offer a revealing insight into the disillusioned Six's psyche. In "I Found Out", a venomous Lennon rejects his Hippie High Priest status ("Don't give me that "brother, brother"") and castigates his former need to believe in saviours, spitting out the lines "There ain't no jesus gonna come from the sky, now that I found out I know I can cry. ..Old Hari Krishna's got nothing on you....There ain't no guru who can see through your eyes". He also points to his desire for recognition as sourcing from parental rejection ( "I heard something about my Ma and Pa, they didn't want me so they made me a star") as well as a determination to fully realize himself and accept his individualism and experience ("No one can harm you, Feel your own pain"). In "God" Lennon asserts that the Deity is "a concept by which we measure our pain", before knocking down the figureheads of his age, Buddha, Gita, Jesus, Kennedy, "Zimmerman" (Dylan), Elvis and finally Beatles, thus symbolically discarding his own past and achievements. Lennon concludes by stating that he now believes only in himself, adding Yoko as if in afterthought, before lamenting "the dream is over".
The Rebel; "You Say You Want A Revolution"?
However, as a Six "the dream" (of acceptance, belonging and cultural relevance) couldn't remain dormant for long, and so it was that Lennon followed the most emotionally brutal and uncompromising work of his career with the commercial, comparatively tame "Imagine" album. Despite featuring swipes at both his former bandmate Paul McCartney ("How Do You Sleep") and manager Allen Klein ("Steel And Glass"), "Imagine" was clearly intended for a mass audience (Lennon described it as being "chocolate- coated for public consumption"), and the simple idealistic sentiment of the title track, with Lennon's singing "you may say I'm a dreamer" is something of a volte face negation of the disenchantment of "God" ("The Dream Is Over") and "I Found Out". As in so many areas, success was a cause of ambivalence for Lennon, and whilst he may have been willing to "imagine no possessions", it was apparently a principle he wasn't prepared to put into practice. Indeed, his wealth, and the distance it placed between him and his audience, was perhaps a motivating factor in his immersion in radical politics, leading to his most overtly political album "Some Time In New York City". Once again Lennon exhibited classic Six changeability; the gentle, melodic flower power sentiment of "Imagine" is superseded by decidedly unpretty sloganeering ("Woman Is The N***** Of The World", "Luck Of The Irish") and a musical language that seemed one- dimensional and artless. Reviewing the album for Rolling Stone, Stephen Holden wrote "The tunes are shallow and derivative and the words little more than sloppy nursery-rhymes that patronize the issues and individuals they seek to exalt". Indeed, Lennon seems to be less an artist than a rebel (with no cause left unattended) desperate to display his "Right On" credentials, reduced to the reactive partisanship of the counterphobic Six famously embodied by Marlon Brando's "The Wild One" character Johnny Strabler who, when asked what he is rebelling against, replies "Whaddaya got?"?
"Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see"
Arguably this album's gravest flaw is less it's politics than it's absence of the wit, melodicism and artful synthesis that distinguishes much of Lennon's best work. In "Strawberry Fields Forever", hesitant lyrical assertions ("That is, I think it's not too bad") are merged with a haunting melody and instrumentation to suggest a state of dispossession where "nothing is real". The annual garden party at the Strawberry Field Salvation army children's home was a treasured treat for the young Lennon, and it's spirit is captured in the song's brass band- like arrangement. Here, the question of belonging, so crucial to Sixes, is imaginatively explored, with Lennon, abandoned by his parents and thus of spiritual kinship to the orphans of Strawberry Field, appearing traumatized ("Always, no sometimes, think it's me") and conveying the indecision and uncertainty of his Enneagram type; "I think I know I mean a 'Yes' but it's all wrong, that is I think I disagree." "Strawberry Fields Forever" exhibits Lennon's melancholy apartness and ability to marry lyric sentiment to an evocative musical setting, as well as his verbal inventiveness. This latter trait, evidenced by his love of puns and "jabberwocky" (given full reign in his book of verse "In His Own Write"), relates to one of the most endearing characteristics of the healthy Six; a child- like openness and sense of wonder. Keenly aware of their own vulnerability, healthy Sixes often display strong nurturing instincts, sympathy with the marginalized (consider Lennon's sincere if naive political pursuits) and a deep love of innocence that allows them to, when secure, reveal great tenderness and trust.
In his beautiful song "Julia", written in the first flush of his relationship with Yoko Ono, Lennon is able to face the devastating loss of his mother as well as acknowledge his love for her. Accompanied only by his acoustic guitar, Lennon sounds as blissful and unguarded as an infant in the arms of his mother. Lennon refers to Julia as "silent cloud" and, tellingly, as "ocean child", the English translation of Yoko's name. Evidently Lennon felt himself to once again be in the safe and secure place of the nurtured and protected child, a fact bore out by his referring affectionately to Ono as "Mother".
In recent years there has been a backlash against Lennon's somewhat saintly status. However, those who blindly revere him as a blameless apostle for peace do as grave a disservice as those who pillory him as a fatuous hypocrite, in that both are simplistic and lack nuance. Lennon, as a Six, was a mass of contradictions. However, these very contradictions, his public disputes with himself (as a violent man of peace, a rich revolutionary, a bruised and broken- hearted tough guy,) invite ongoing examination and debate, thus ensuring that Lennon remains one of the most enduring and humanly engaging of public figures.
David Bowie; An Enneagram Profile
The following was first published in the International Enneagram Association's bulletin, "Nine Points", December 2011
David Bowie (born David Robert Jones, 1947) is amongst the most charismatic, individualistic and influential figures in popular music, with a back catalogue spanning some five decades and comprising a dizzying array of musical genres and changes of image. He embodies many of the key characteristics of the type Four (The Artist, The Tragic Romantic, The Outsider), in that his personae and lyrical subject matters explore and celebrate the marginal, unconventional and (often quite literally) the alien.
“So I turned myself to face me, but I never caught a glimpse…” (“Changes” 1971)
Bowie is sometimes simplistically termed “Rock’s Chameleon”, owing to his aesthetic malleability and tendency to move from one style to the next and, in terms of the Enneagram, is commonly misidentified as a type Three.
However, whereas the type Three is capable of identifying what works, objectively utilizing their abilities to the end of succeeding swiftly, and usually in a proven field, Bowie’s career appears as that of one who doesn’t recognise or is indifferent to what works (indicated by his long pre- stardom apprenticeship and abandonment of commercially successful formulas) and, in embracing the unusual, synthesizing seemingly incompatible aesthetics and mediums, and risking alienating his audience in pursuit of a very personal vision, he exhibits the essence of the Four, standing apart, exempt from conventional rules and expectations, ever in the process of “becoming”, in search of the true, authentic self.
The latter is evidenced by the recurrent lyric themes of Bowie’s songs; for all his changes, the dominant tenor of his oeuvre is that of the brooding and often disquieting Romanticism of the type Four, with an emphasis on self- immersion (“I’m sinking in the quicksand of my thoughts” – “Quicksand 1971), alienation, transgression, madness and loneliness.
This tendency to explore and indeed revel in his own vulnerability and insecurity is quite distinct from the Three’s desire to at all times present themselves in the most suitable, flattering manner, usually as confident and “perfect” winners, exhibiting a deft ability to filter what they reveal about themselves. Bowie, in his life as well as work, has been consistently self- revealing, perhaps never more so than when he is playing a role; in “The Mask”, a mime written and performed in 1969, Bowie’s protagonist finds fame as an entertainer after donning a mask. His success is dependant upon this “smiley” facade and, in one telling scene, Bowie’s character removes the mask to reveal a look of scowling disdain, an expression of the unhealthy Four’s contempt for what they perceive to be the unimaginative, amorphous and easily manipulated masses (from whom they feel excluded but nonetheless may wish to woo). In the final scene, Bowie’s performer finds himself unable to remove the mask and chokes to death on stage, with the voiceover commenting that newspapers mentioned nothing about a mask. Bowie’s “mask” is a metaphor for public perception and the gulf between performance and real life, a theme that is further explored in 1971’s “Life On Mars?” where “the girl with the mousey hair” walks “through her sunken dream”, to a cinema, where she’s ”hooked on the silver screen”. At this point the focus shifts, emphasized by a key change and orchestral swell, where the film (“a saddening bore”) is revealed to be the girl’s real life (“she’s wrote in ten times or more”), with her dissatisfaction expressed by her wishing to “spit in the eye’s of fools”. Therein follows another change of key with a lyrical montage of filmic imagery (“sailors fighting on the dancefloor…lawman beating up the wrong guy”) and the suggestion that the “fantasy” (“the best selling show") and the “real” worlds are one in the same.
"I think rock should be tarted up, made into a prostitute, a parody of itself. It should be the clown, the Pierrot medium." (David Bowie, April 1971)
This ability, to put himself and his point of observation at a distance from his subject, has led to charges of Bowie’s being inauthentic, a mere magpie flitting from one style to another. What is singularly overlooked is that, rather than being a Rock musician per se, Bowie is an Artist whose primary medium is Rock music. Because Rock, especially at the time of Bowie’s ascendance in the late 60’s (the era of protest songs and counter culture agitation), was generally regarded as a sincere antidote to a manufactured “pop” ethos and celebrated for it’s genuineness, “keeping it real” has often meant sticking to clichés and remaining aesthetically static in the name of being “down to earth”, “relevant” or “in touch with the ordinary man” etc.
As a Four, Bowie identified that Art (as a creative, generative form, rather than a monolithic way of being) entailed a certain amount of what might superficially appear to be artifice, where sensitivity could be both shielded and expressed through the adoption of personae (“I’ve no defence, I’ve got to keep my veil on my face” – “Janine” 1969). This allowed the intensely personal to be elevated to the Superhuman and iconic and, in that the Universal often resided in the strange and hitherto unexplored, Bowie, as a truly creative pop musician, would inevitably run against the grain.
Released in June 1967, Bowie’s debut album could hardly have been further from the then prevailing “Summer Of Love” ethic of groovy free-love and hippiedom. Consisting largely of orchestrated vignettes dedicated to odd, unglamorous characters and sung in a wry ironic cockney manner that owed a certain amount to Anthony Newley, Bowie had already, at the age of nineteen, a highly developed and uncommon melodic and linguistic sense, and was exhibiting classic Four traits of identification and sympathy with the socially excluded (such as, in “Little Bombardier”, a shell –shocked lonely veteran befriending two small children, before being accused of paedophilia and consequently run out of town) , gender distortion (“She’s Got Medals”- “her mother called her Mary, but she changed her name to Tommy, she’s a one!”), an aching nostalgia (“Come & Buy My Toys” and “There Is A Happy Land” –“.. where only children live, they have no time to learn the ways of you sir, Mr. Grownup”), and a taste for rather macabre humour (“Please Mr. Gravedigger”). This was, in all, a far darker and more complex vision, albeit masked by the vaguely unhinged cheeriness of the music, than that offered by his contemporaries and, unsurprisingly, a resounding commercial failure. Though this album contains the kernel of many of the themes that were to dominate Bowie’s Golden Years of the 1970’s (alienation, gender- mutation, war, nostalgia and Romanticism) it is still somewhat overlooked and dismissed as a misguided lurch into vaudeville, a view that in many ways reflects it’s stark variance to the surrounding psychedelic rock milieu from whence it came. However, Bowie’s preparedness to eschew the then dominant musical, lyrical and ideological mode in favour of a more individualistic, personally resonant aesthetic, illustrates the Fours admirable commitment to the dictates of the muse, willingness to go it alone and observe the “common consensus” with unique sensitivity and perceptiveness, as well as evidence of his being commendably authentic to himself, which, in Art, is arguably where it really counts.
Indeed, it is precisely the deficit in personal authenticity (and free thought) displayed by many celebrants of the Summer Of Love that Bowie was to lacerate in 1969’s “The Cygnet Committee”, an examination of the contradictions and latent violence of the Hippy movement. This prescient piece, written some time before the Manson slayings and Altamont disaster that closed and tarnished that era, sees Bowie, as the “outsider” Four, offering reportage on a conformist mob-think imbued with unquestioning self- righteousness (“our weapons were the tongues of crying rage”), capable of creation (“where money stood we planted seeds of rebirth”), but equally of destruction (“ploughing down man, woman, listening to it’s command, but not hearing anymore”). In “not hearing”, the mob replaces discussion with simplistic slogans, starting benignly enough with “love is all we need”, but soon devolving into “Kick out the jams”, before descending into destructive generation- revolt (“kick out your mother”), and paranoia (“cut up your friends, screw your brother, or they’ll get you in the end”).
“A Leper Messiah”; The Artist as Visionary
As the type Four is highly concerned with the broad potency of Art, Bowie was especially aware of the Messianic properties of the rock medium, with the crowd being dictated to by the machinations of the idol on the podium (leading Bowie to controversially claim Hitler as the first rock star) and where, in the case of 1972’s “Rock n Roll Suicide”, the Four’s desire to reveal (“I’ve had my share, I’ll help you with the pain”) and invite identification (“oh no, love, you’re not alone”) is expressed through the media of performance, with the line “just give me your hands” evoking the image of the rock star reaching out to a sea of supplicants, whereby the experience of shared humanity can, for the socially maladroit and sensitive Four, best be attained through Art and Idealization.
The role of “Leper Messiah” (“Ziggy Stardust” 1972) has been a recurrent theme of Bowie’s; from the “Wild Eyed Boy From Freecloud” (whose idyllic mountaintop life ends with his being hanged by uncomprehending villagers), to “All The Madmen” (with whom Bowie wishes to stay, as “they’re all as sane as me”) and perhaps most notably with the alien rock star “Ziggy Stardust”, all of which reflects the Four’s feelings of being apart from their fellows, (with the mountaintop visionary and alien superstar being idealized manifestations of the Four’s sense of not belonging). Here, we find the Four’s alienation being sublimated to a sense of Artistic mission, one that invites and, in true Tragic Romantic manner, expects castigation, rejection and misunderstanding.
“I cannot breathe in the atmosphere of convention” “I find freedom only in the realms of my own eccentricity” (David Bowie 1971)
Like fellow Fours Oscar Wilde (“I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the grossest immorality”) and Prince (“Am I black or white, am I straight or gay”), Bowie delighted in eschewing conventional morality and definitions, taking a Puckish delight in transgressing boundaries of gender (being one of the first rock Artists to “come out” as being gay, in 1972) as well as genre (with his frequent stylistic shifts bewildering both fans and critics alike). Fours tend to abhor rules and, ever in the process of discovering themselves, regard definition as unacceptable restriction. Thus, following the long sought- after global success he finally attained with space- age superman Ziggy Stardust, Bowie felt capable of retiring this immensely lucrative character at the height of its popularity. He then embarked on a Broadway- style musical based on Orwell’s “1984” (“Diamond Dogs”), the tour of which involved an elaborate and costly set that ensured minimum profits, and played to a largely confused audience of Ziggy clones. No sooner was this new guise established than once again Bowie moved on, this time to soul music. Consequently, the vast “1984” set was abandoned, and the audience confronted by a baggy- suited Bowie, flanked by a plethora of gospel singers and backed by a funk band.
A more career- minded artist would perhaps “play it safe” and temper creative demands to the expectations of audience and critics alike, especially in the high- stake rock arena, where reputation and revenue are, once lost, seldom recovered. However, as a Four, Bowie was primarily driven by the need to follow his Artistic vision; that this decision was vindicated by longevity and ongoing success is testament both to his instincts and the individualistic commitment of the Four, a type who often suffer incomprehension and failure for furrowing new paths through unknown terrain.
In a pop culture that seeks to produce simplified, saleable artists, ever in pursuit of the predictable over the creative, Bowie serves as an example of the imaginativeness, courage and tireless self- discovery of the Four, and as an inspirational model of Artistic vision, commitment and perseverance.
Austin Osman Spare (1886-1956)
English Artist, writer and occultist who devised a wholly unique style of drawing and painting, mixing magic, automatic drawing/writing, Sigilization with exceptional draughtsmanship and vision. Spare is something of an enigma, conspicuously absent from most anthological assessments of, and publications concerning, Art History. Indeed, one would be hard pressed to unearth any awareness of him or his work outside of occult enthusiasts and, where one might at least hope to find a mention of him, perhaps in regards to the Pre- Raphealites or proponents of the ensuing English crafts movement (especially GF Watts who, stylistically at least, anticipated Spare), one would again draw a blank. This, in many ways reflects the man and artist himself, who retreated from the "Art" world (and it's attendant pretences and politics) to privacy and poverty in South London, a shabby flat he shared with numerous cats, and surrounding pubs where he depicted the working class habitues as Satyrs and otherworldly entities. Immensely gifted, Spare was granted a scholarship for the Royal Academy of Art at just sixteen and, in 1907, had his first major exhibition at London's Bruton Gallery. Thereafter he became somewhat feted by London's avant garde and was to come into contact with Aleister Crowley. Their's was, however, a fraught friendship, with Spare very much going his own way, publishing his seminal "Book Of Pleasure" which, albeit implicitely, dismisses Crowley and ceremonial magic. After serving as a medical orderly in WW1, Spare was largely disillusioned with the society he returned to, noting "Lots of things had changed. I found it very difficult to keep going on with what I had been doing. That pushed me into the abstract world - and there I have more or less remained". Such alienation and rage was expressed in his "Anathema of Zos - Sermon To The Hypocrites", published in 1927.It is alleged that in 1936, Spare declined an invitation to paint Adolf Hitler's portrait, and there are various anecdotal accounts of his magical abilities. Regardless, his Artistic work in itself warrants recognition for its technical mastery and imaginative fecundity, and perhaps it is fitting that he remains a shrouded, unaffiliated mystery.
Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915)
Russian Composer and mystic. His music is generally considered to straddle the Late/Post Romantic and early Modern periods. Scriabin was apparently a Synesthesiast, and sought to combine colour and sound, notably in his last Orchestral Work, Prometheus; Poem Of Fire which has a part for a "clavier à lumières" (keyboard with lights)that was meant to bathe the audience in colours that corresponded to the music. Scriabin was later to conceive of the idea for a mammoth work ("The Mysterium") that would take place over seven days in a specially constructed temple in the Himalayas, include not just all mankind, but all living creatures (Scriabin's 10th Piano Sonata was dedicated to insects, which he touchingly described as "the sun's kisses")and lead to the end of the world and dawning of a new age, one ihabited by "Nobler Beings". Inaugerated by the tolling of bells suspended from clouds, "The Mysterium" would combine all senses as well as artforms, with melodies dissolving into scents, choreographed glances, touch- textures relating to harmony and so on. Of his "Mysterium" Scriabin said "There will not be a single spectator. All will be participants. The work requires special people, special artists and a completely new culture. The cast of performers includes an orchestra, a large mixed choir, an instrument with visual effects, dancers, a procession, incense, and rhythmic textural articulation. The cathedral in which it will take place will not be of one single type of stone but will continually change with the atmosphere and motion of the Mysterium. This will be done with the aid of mists and lights, which will modify the architectural contours."
Sadly Scriabin died before completing anything other than sketches of "The Mysterium", which may have been enough to end the world, albeit for him alone. Therein he was largely dismissed as a crankish meglomaniac and embodiment of the worst, most bloated excesses of Romanticism, especially by exponents of the intellectually driven, "logically" schematic Modernism that followed in his wake. However, for those who seek the Elemental, the glorious, the mysterious, the soaringly and unselfconsciously inspired, Scriabin's music is, as Henry Miller described it, "A bath of ice, cocaine and rainbows".
(A Dismissal Of) A Dissertation
The essay below ("Representational Painting In The 21st Century; Why") was written as part my Fine Art BA coursework and, on a recent re-reading, has prompted reflections on my studentship and contemporary Cultural and Academic standards in regards to Art.
For me, the most striking feature of this essay is it's attention to visual artists with whom I have no affinity (more violent antipathy, if truth be told) rather than artist's whose work I revere. This sources from the unspoken but implicit demands of my degree course that one positions one's work within the parameters of contemporary culture or, at the very least, exhibit an engagement with the current art scene, and that one's field of interests must somehow "relate" to the practices and ideology of one's age.
At Art school, one was constantly reminded of being "where we are", unable to "turn back the clock", impelled to follow a supposedly inevitable ever- onward path of progress. I found this problematic for many reasons, not least because most of my lecturers delighted in denigrating the canon (often referred to snidely as "the canon" with inverted commas supplied by raised fingers) and displaying mandatory contempt for those "dead European males" encumbered by talent and technique, sorely lacking the wisdom and identity-awareness of the soixante huit- ers (who knew far better than to waste their time quietly getting on with the dull, necessary task of creating durable artworks). The conceit, aggression and sheer barbarism such contempt exhibited almost served to distract one from the absurd proposition that the true path of progress was a mere 60 odd academic years old, and thus not so much a path as a maze or series of decreasing circles, devoid of the measurable and definite values of talent and craft.
Regarding the role of craft and, by extension, the fallacious division between "Representational" and "Abstract" Art, I would strongly argue that both elements have co-existed in all Art (not just European) since time immemorial; the Viking longship, the Native American totem pole, the stylised West African mask, The Book Of Kells....all feature the recognizable in seamless concert with the "abstracted", as do the marvels of Italian Renaissance painting (which was quite evidently not about recording a "representation" of the visual World like the pointless technical exercises of "photo realism") but wedding recognizable forms to improbable and highly symbolic ones. It is debatable as to whether the early exponents of "abstract" Art (say, Delaunay or Kandinsky) believed themselves to be superceding or adding to the European tradition, but these days one can retain little doubt that a line has been drawn dividing the pre- Modern (some time around the early 20th century) from that of what followed and, in Critical, Academic and High Market terms, one is walking a dead person's path if one doesn't disavow the latter (unless one's purpose is to ridicule or "recontextualize" the Art) and will find oneself open to charges of redundancy, reactionarism and "Cultural Imperialism".
The latter charge perfectly illustrates the hysterical hypocrisy so common to the Frankfurt School and their acolytes; that, in maintaining a Universal standard and practice (the marriage of craft, technique and tradition to the suggestive, symbolic and stylised, qualities that are evident in most if not all indigenous folk Art and pre 20th century European Art) one is somehow perpetuating "elitism" and eschewing "diversity". Yet, paradoxically, if one timorously follows the dictates of a tiny clique of monied curators, critics and academics, meekly parroting the aesthetic and ideological currency of the last 60 or so years, one is being "challenging" and "radical".
Well, what can be more challenging than appeasing the one dimensional Cultural Marxist academic and providing "investment" fodder for "Art patron" Capitalists like Charles Saatchi (two cheeks of the same behind), and what can be more radical than peddling the predictable and "short shelf life" shock doctrine that has succeeded only in lowering the bar, demanding ever more desperation and debasement to provoke some kind of response from a sensorially stupefied public?
Each to their own, but I'll stick to the standards that define all Art, irrespective of location and, until relatively recent, time, and pass on the riches of the last (I'll be generous) 120 years of (again I'll be generous, if not "inclusive") Western Art.
I confess to having reservations about the notion (by no means a purely contemporary concept) of Art being a chronological process that, as with Stalin's famous WW2 order 227, proclaimed "not one step back", disallows one from pausing and questioning the road one is on and where it is leading. To stretch the analogy somewhat; if one was to set off on a walking tour from Leeds to Lands End, and eventually found oneself approaching Aberdeen, at what point might one question the path followed, or recognise that one is lost and may need to, if not turn back, at least revise one's route? So, are we to accept as "a done deal" the progression/regression (tick as applicable) of Art, and tailor our work and interpretation accordingly? Or is it permissible to strike out alone, as it were, following the Romantic, if cliched, model of the Artist as outsider, alone and indifferent to the mores of one's age?
No one is free of influences, and each of us possess a personal series of references, keys and associations. Had I been at liberty to write, in regards to my own personal references and influences, about the art I revere, I would no doubt have penned a decidedly non- academic love letter to the work of Claude Lorraine, Georgio De Chirico or Austin Osman Spare. As it was I was required to write about "contemporary" artists and their work, so found myself seeking merit in the work of artists to whom I'm at best indifferent (Lucien Freud and Jenny Saville) and holding my tongue regarding art I dislike intensely (Francis Bacon and Jackson Pollock). This choice of subject was undertaken under duress, and in the interests of "relevance", in this case, the atrophied field of acceptable subject demanded by my tutors and examiners ( and remember, these individuals are judging and grading you according to their own standards and sympathies). Beside that, one may argue that the writer/artist is obliged to provide a comprehensible point of entry for the reader/spectator, with an awareness of the spectator's field of reference and limitations. The wild- eyed, Romantic Artist- as- seer may feel themselves to be imparting some great and profound truth but this is not necessarily how it will be perceived/received.
No one is entitled to an audience; regardless of it's depth, passion and commitment, an artist's work has to connect with others in order to exist independently and stake a claim on the attention of anyone other than the artist's immediate associates, friends and family. How it may do this is anyone's guess, and damnation on any surefire formula; it is the unpredictable factor that makes art (and life) interesting and worthy of pursuance.
My problem with the "relevance" factor of my course work came from it being based almost entirely upon what is, in relative terms, a recent and profoundly limited (and politicized) model of aesthetics and values, and one to which I simply cannot, well, "relate". In "The Picture Of Dorian Gray" Oscar Wilde has Lord Henry proclaim that “Modern morality consists in accepting the standard of one’s age. I consider that for any man of culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the grossest immorality.” Does one fit in? Does one want to fit in?
(2011)
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Representational Painting in the 21st Century; Why? (2004)
It might be considered anachronistic for a 21st century artist to choose to paint in an evidently representational style. Whilst it appears to be a perennially popular, “accessible” art form it is, nonetheless, generally held to be outmoded by the contemporary "art world", and its’ practitioners regarded as purveyors of the commonplace, the nostalgic and aesthetically exhausted.
For the practitioner of this idiom, one of the more uncomfortable aspects of the legacy of the European tradition is a daunting awareness of the vast body of work that exists and (perhaps more pertinently) ostensibly excels within this particular paradigm. By working within what is already a familiar (some would say perfected and thus closed field (1.)), one cannot help but make (and expect to receive) unfavourable comparisons, not to mention feel intimidated to the point of impotence by the lofted standards of the canon.
A painting, being a static object in an increasingly fast- paced visual world, has a hard time both in harnessing the spectators’ attention and in attesting itself as a valid, "relevant" work of art, rather than just a well- executed trifle. It is probably in this regard that the contemporary representational painter meets their greatest challenge, namely in contesting the notion that their work offers little that has not been done much better, and many times before.
For an artist like Paul Cezanne, working in the late nineteenth/early twentieth century, painting was arguably the most versatile means of exploring visual perception. Cezanne was concerned with imparting a three dimensional perspective (accounting for central focus and peripheral vision), and was keenly aware of the problems this posed pictorial representation. In “Mont Sainte Victoire” (1904- 06), Cezanne sought to move beyond a literal mode of pictorial representation, enhancing the flatness of his pictures and, in precipitation of Cubism, probing for geometrical forms in organic appearances (Cezanne had exhorted the young Emile Bernard to “treat nature by the sphere, the cylinder, the cone”). In this work, Cezanne reached a point of integrating the distinct components of picture- making; drawing, tone, model making and composition have all been condensed into a coloured brushstroke, and the artist can be seen to have arrived at one of his main objectives, that of rendering “perspective solely by means of colour”.
The manner and purpose by which Cezanne treated painting finds its’ literary echo in the writings of his contemporary Stephane Mallarme who, through suggestion, hermeticism and synthesis, sought to shed poetry of it’s “meaning” in order to liberate it’s language. Both men found it imperative to reconstitute their crafts in order to attain freedom from the “tyranny of subject matter”, which was, for the former, a literal representation of nature, and for the latter, a poem’s subordination to its’ theme or topic. Cezanne, who never tired of visiting the Louvre in order to examine the works of past masters, and was to comment that “one does not put oneself in place of the past, one only adds a link”, clearly felt that the art of his age had to move beyond recording the surface appearance of things, and it was this conviction that prompted Cezannes’ infamous dismissal of Monet as being merely “an eye”.
Perhaps many artists would be inclined to share Andre Breton’s opinion of painting as being a “lamentable expedient”, feeling it to be an inadequate means of conveying concepts and experiences. Encountering an unfinished section of the New Jersey turnpike during a late night drive, Tony Smith speculated on the possibilities of an "artificial landscape without cultural precedent”. Believing that he had witnessed “a reality that had not had any expression in art”, Smith claimed that “most painting looks pretty pictorial after that…. there is no way you can frame it, you have to experience it”.
One might argue that Smith’s “aesthetic revelation” was a direct result of being in a fast- moving car (an experience that was not available to Cezanne), and was aided by the knowledge that he could call on a broader variety of media in order to communicate his intentions than was available to artists operating a century earlier. However, the need to examine fresh phenomena doesn't’, in itself, preclude the use of “old” or conventional materials. Writing in 1913, Claude Debussy was to ask “Is it not our duty to find a symphonic means to express our time, one that evokes the progress, the daring and the victories of modern days? The century of the aeroplane deserves its’ music”. Whilst one can chart evident progression in Debussy’s music, from the Russian influenced Romanticism of his ‘Petite suite” (1888- 89) to the ascetic modernism of his 12th Etude “Pour Les Accords” (1915), it is improbable that he would have contemplated his music existing outside of the instrumental, structural and formal modes of the western art idiom, and his “tone palette” remained firmly fixed in the traditional orchestra and its’ associated instruments. Contemporaneously, Luigi Russolo was devising an “art of noises” and inventing new instruments (or “noise intoners”, as he called them), whilst many of his fellow futurists were striving to conceive a visual means of expressing the speed and impermanence of the machine age with the time-honoured media of oil, pigment and canvas.
Viewed from the position of hindsight, the Futurist movement may be regarded as both a product and a signifier of its’ age; a work like Giacomo Balla’s ‘Abstract Speed” (1913), with its’ mechanical forms suggesting an automobile in motion, expresses not only one of the movements’ primary leitmotifs, but evokes an increasingly industrialized Europe heading for calamitous world war. The “Manifesto of Futurist Painters” (1910) addressed the "young artists of Italy”, and demanded the destruction of all that was old, venerated, academic and plagiarized. In the subsequent “Technical Manifesto of Futurist Painting” (1910) the futurists were to claim “painting cannot exist today without Divisionism”, a curiously “passeist” (to use the futurist terminology) stance to adopt, being in that it fails to take account of Cubism, an evidently bolder, more formally advanced model of the “miracles of contemporary life”.
The latter instance provides a lucid example of the potential pratfalls inherent in declaring oneself a paragon of innovation, and in associating oneself solely with what is up to date(2.). Existing orders, as well as aesthetic sensibilities, probably need to be challenged, if only to maintain their vigour and purpose, and much of the Futurist polemic remains potent in its’ irreverence, iconoclasm and humour. There is, however, always a risk of getting caught in the undertow of a rising tide, and the Futurists’ exuberant allegiance to fascism (as well as a general attraction to all things mechanized and martial) tends to overshadow even purely aesthetic reappraisals of this movement (3.).
Considering the central role painting played in a movement ostensibly dedicated to the destruction of all things antiquated and traditional, one is invited to speculate as to what roles, if any, this practice might play in our age. It is tempting, nowadays, to forsake painting in favour of newer, fresher mediums, particularly those that blur the distinctions between visual, aural and text – based art (4.). However, to choose to paint is to position oneself within a tradition, one that is, perhaps, endowed with some of the cachet afforded “art” music, expressly because it involves the use of time- honoured materials. However, as Norbert Lynton has argued, this in itself offers no assurance as to “what is likely to yield lasting quality from what may turn out to be expendable” . “The 20th century”, he claims, “has produced some of the worst art ever”, implying that the loss of a formal, academic criterion by which one can evaluate a work of art, has invited a deluge of sub- standard endeavour, and a preponderance of the notion that personal expression above all else is authentic. He concludes that we, as spectators, are forced “to accept extremism of an overreaching sort”
It is unlikely that many of the practitioners of Abstract Expressionism (for whom Jackson Pollock’s statement that “every good artists paints what he is” might have served as a motto) would have subscribed to this view. The American critic Harold Rosenberg wrote that this was “essentially a religious movement” and voiced belief in an almost mystical relationship between the artist and the canvas, stating that “what matters is the revelation in the act”, suggesting that the speed and attack of the brushstroke contained a profound spiritual truth. When Glenn Brown employs the work of Frank Auerbach as a model, as in “The Marquess Of Breadalbane” (2000)) his use of ultra- fine brushes and thinned oil invites one to engage solely with the imagery of the work, as the formerly expressive brushwork (a means by which Auerbach can impart “the object raw and newly perceived”) is flattened. Brown claims that his subjects are largely selected from catalogues; a photographic reproduction of a painting will invariably provide inaccurate information. We are given no indication of the paint handling, hues are often distorted and, being removed from the physical presence of the work, we are denied the kind of intimate scrutiny celebrated by Rosenberg (whereby the painting becomes a sort of holy relic or shrine). Brown’s pieces pose interesting questions about our relationship to and with a painting. Firstly, there is it’s existence as a physical object that one can buy/sell and contemplate in a three- dimensional setting, and secondly, it’s function as an image (consider the “poster –friendly” quality of the work of Salvador Dali (another of Brown’s main sources), which seems to lend itself to reproduction). Perhaps, in Brown’s case, the most crucial question concerning an art image is that of ownership/authorship. Whilst anyone can possess a reproduction of the Mona Lisa, presenting a re- worked version of it as an original work of art (as an art object upon which one can place aesthetic and commercial value), would undoubtedly raise questions pertaining to the work’s authenticity; the commercial aspect alone ensures that the "forger" is criminalized, with the money- factor demanding that the object/investment is indeed the "genuine article". In art, however, the nature of “authenticity” is open to debate.
Francis Bacon, observing what he took to be an emotional detachment in the work of Lucien Freud, once described the latter’s paintings as being “realistic without being real”. Bacon sought a convulsive sort of beauty and, as an artist, was less concerned with reproducing a likeness of his models than with setting a trap in order to catch the “living thing alive”. In “Three Studies Of Isabel Rawsthorne” (1967) the painter and stage designer (who had also modelled for Giacommetti and Picasso) is depicted sequentially as a screaming face in a picture frame, a spectral profile in a darkened doorway, and an abstractly gesturing figure with one arm raised, her faced turned both from the viewer and the door– knob to which she appears to be reaching. The blotched and smudged faces are rendered all the more disturbing for being positioned in a subtle, ordered interior, with strong vertical lines bisecting the painting into sections. A stark, artificial light is suggested by bold black/white contrasts, as well as the exaggeratedly defined shadow from the door- knob. The placing of mutilated, viscera- like faces/figures within a sanitized, ordered environment (suggestive of an operating theatre), is something of a recurring motif in Bacon’s oeuvre. The subjects often appear, as in the case of “Study For Portrait” (1971) to be physical assemblages, where flesh components are combined with recognisable human gestures (in this instance, the right leg being semi- casually crossed at the knee). The latter work, set in what appears to be a television studio, conveys a sense of the artist working “at one step removed” from the sitter, via an intermediate medium. Photography, which usually provided Bacon with his initial/main source, allowed him to avoid the discomfort posed by being in the company of sitters. He preferred to use photographic characteristics as a "point of departure” from which he could utilize a personal perception of the subject in conjunction to his own memories, associations and obsessions. Bacon’s portraits are, many respects, self- portraits; Freud has commented on how Bacon “always gave me his legs when he painted me”, and one may feel, as with the more "emotive" abstract expressionists, that one is being asked to regard the artist's neurosis and solipsism as much as their talent and "vision". Indeed, Bacon's reliance on photographs, (eschewing the need for the flesh and blood person to be present), lends his work an almost masturbatory quality, with the fleshy, ravaged anatomy suggesting the privately pornographic made public.
Unlike Bacon, Freud is “never inhibited from working from life”, finding the immediate presence a crucial ingredient to his processes. His paintings are, in effect, the "love- child” of a conspiratorial, intimate relationship between artist and model. Freud is acutely aware of the complexities inherent in this association, which is business- like and somewhat exploitative, and has commented on "a chivalry” that is invoked within him when in the company of a naked person. “Leigh Bowery (seated)” (1990) depicts the sixteen- stone Australian- born performance artist, barely contained within a faded red velvet chair, one leg sprawling across an arm- rest, his stark nakedness enhanced by his body being shorn of all hair. We are presented with a near- monstrous spectacle (Freud had to continually expand the canvas in order to sufficiently convey Bowery’s enormous bulk), reminiscent of an unbottled genie, with every fold of flaccid flesh presented in a frank, confrontational manner, the casual aggressiveness of the pose complemented by an unflinching, discomforting stare. Freud’s commitment to providing “factual not literal” portrayals of his sitters is evident in this work, which serves as something of a testament to Bowery’s exhibitionism (the artist has commented on the Australian’s “amazingly aware and amazingly abandoned” way of presenting his body) and conveys the performer’s desire to ferment scandal, outrage and abhorrence.
“When I think of Freud”, wrote Auerbach, “I think of his attention to his subject”. In language that could serve as descriptive prose for the meat– like rendering of Bowery’s flesh, Auerbach writes that Freud’s “subject is raw, not cooked to be more digestible as art, not covered in a gravy of ostentatious colour, not arranged on the plate as a composition”. Whilst this account provides a rather literal description of the above work, it is equally applicable, albeit in a more subtle manner, to Freud’s “Portrait Of John Minton” (1952). We can still discern that the artist has been, in Auerbach’s words, “passionately attentive to (his) theme”, sentiment that appears to be corroborated by sitter’s biography. John Minton, high profile in the London art scene and a leading proponent of the neo- Romantic school, was, by most accounts, a cheerful, playful and amusing character. However, his jovial persona concealed a deeply troubled and unhappy man. Commissioned by Minton after having seen Freud’s “Small Head Of Francis Bacon” (1952), this portrait of a handsome, yet anguished, face lead Bruce Bernard to write that he saw “no subtler sense of an individual’s approaching death in modern painting than that expressed by a faint hint of the teeth’s increasing separateness from the flesh”. Unable to come to terms with his homosexuality and haunted by feelings of inadequacy as an artist, Minton committed suicide in 1957. This painting is quietly troubling, particularly when compared to Bacon’s “Pope II” (1951), which appals by its vicious, hysterically emotional imagery. Whereas Bacon’s Pope screams (silently, though nonetheless, brutally) at the spectator, who is forced into assuming a defensive position, Freud’s portrait disturbs by its restrained, ominous distress. The overly large, candid eyes seem to verge on tears and the long face and neck tilt in a slight, awkward incline. Freud’s affectionate treatment of Minton’s dark brown hair suggests a tenderness that belies the formers’ reputed temperamental coolness; the slightly tossed, fluffy locks give an impression of youthful boyishness. The face too, is boyish, however, the haunted expression renders the overall countenance as that of a troubled child aged beyond his years. This portrait manages to be remarkably moving without being sensational (a thing Freud apparently dreads), and appears to reveal something more universal than the “results of (the artist’s) concentration”.
One imagines that Jenny Saville wouldn't be troubled by accusations of courting sensationalism, as a desire to provoke deep, if not disconcerting, reactions appears to be an essential component of her work. Her monumentally obese female nudes raise manifold questions concerning femininity, beauty and self- perception. Saville’s signature- style consists of a fore fronted chest/stomach/pubic area, usually seen as if from below, whilst the face (generally the primary point of engagement in the portrait medium), recedes into the upper distance of the canvas, often wearing a detached, inscrutable expression. Her work teems with ambiguity; are these grossly- enlarged women meant to provoke shock, sympathy or disgust? Is the artist deriding women’s adherence to conventional notions of beauty (as depicted in fashion/cosmetic spreads and the media at large), or does the exaggerated fleshiness of the subjects, many of whom clearly resemble the artist, reflect the anorexic’s warped self- image? Saville’s “Propped” (1992) features, in reversed mirror- writing, a quotation from the French feminist Luce Irigaray; “If we continue to speak in this sameness, speak as men have spoken for centuries, we will fail each other again”. Male perspectives, Irigaray contends, have conditioned women’s vision and self- regard, and must therefore be reconfigured from the point of the female’s “inner”, experiential perspective, as opposed to conforming to the “outer” observations of the male. In choosing to operate in the painting idiom (which, owing to it’s historically being dominated by men, is often disregarded by contemporary female artists), Saville quite deliberately challenges the long- established tradition of the female nude as rendered by, and for the delectation of, men. “Branded” (1992), presents us with a women who may be the artist, her head tilting back and away from the viewer, though not, one imagines, in avoidance or discomfort; The model (artist?), wearing an expression that might be confrontational, vacant or bemused, stares “down her nose” at the spectator, who is positioned as if kneeling before her vast breasts and belly. In a gesture that appears both defiant and self- loathing (ambiguity, as so often with Saville, is entertained), the model pinches a sizable portion of the flesh that rings her stomach. We are, perhaps, being invited to meditate on the model’s obesity. It is equally possible (and is implied by the distance/disproportionateness between the head and body) that the model is joining us in being confounded by the spectacle of her bulk.
Whereas, for Peter Paul Rubens, corpulence signified lavishness, it is nowadays conversely regarded as an indication of malnourishment, poverty and ill- health. Saville, who studied in Glasgow (a city with one of the highest rates of heart disease in Britain), has spoken of shopping malls in Ohio where “you saw lots of big women. Big white flesh in shorts and t- shirts”.
Saville’s paintings bear close relations to those of Bacon (who she cites as an influence). These similarities are both methodological (in their working from photographs and amalgamating personal features/characteristics with those of their models’), and aesthetic (the use of the portrait medium as an arena in which to enact personal fixations). Both artists’ employ an expressive usage of flesh; In Bacon’s work, inner and outer tissue appear as if churned together, and at various stages of mortification. Whilst living in New York, Saville spent hours observing a plastic surgeon at work, an experience that fed her interest in extreme and distorted body- shape, as well as aiding her understanding of anatomy. However, where Bacon uses the sitter as a kind of jigsaw puzzle to be arranged in accordance with his own obsessions, Saville places herself at the forefront of her work. We are left with little doubt that the artist is identifying herself with her subjects, and we feel that we are contemplating a personal as well as universal anguish. These bulky titans communicate a tremendous vulnerability, inviting rejection simply by being their unadorned selves, and embodying the curious, but probably not uncommon, phenomena of the conscious self feeling alienated from the flesh in which it is encased.
On the surface, one can discern parallels between Saville’s “Branded” and Freud’s “ Leigh Bowery (seated)”. Apart from similar physical characteristics (cropped/bald heads, obesity), both subjects assume an immodest directness of stance, as well as an evident lack of discomfort with their nudity (indeed, this aspect is aggressively asserted in both paintings). However, a closer examination reveals these works to have less in common than might initially be assumed. There are distinct differences, for example, in the artists’ palettes; Freud’s employment of “realistic” colours within the predominantly ochre, beige and white spectrum imply that this is an accurate perceptual record of what the artist saw, as opposed to an imaginative or empathic meditation on shared physicality. Saville goes beyond the visually apparent, as her orange, pink and purple hues suggest what fleshy tissue feels like; her subject is lived in, as much as observed. More contrasting still are the temperamental imperatives behind both paintings. The politicised, blatant emotionalism of “Branded” is compounded by the text that appears to be carved into the model’s flesh (implying self- mutilation, a common behavioural disorder amongst anorexics and bulimics), suggesting that women are “branded” with unattainable, and largely unrealistic, notions of femininity and beauty. Freud’s painting, however, eschews personal feeling, the artist’s concern being an intense scrutiny of his subject, “to catch”, what Bacon has termed “the fact at its most living point”. If “Leigh Bowery (seated)” elicits strong, discomfiting reactions, it is on account of Freud’s “attention to his subject”, and his ability to successfully impregnate the canvas with the late Bowery’s character, where, genie- like, it remains partially trapped but equally capable of imposing itself upon the spectator.
Saville, like Bacon, is not uncomfortable about exposing what Debussy described as “the naked flesh of emotion”, and her work wears its’ heart as well as its’ feminist credentials on its’ sleeve. Freud’s clinically analytical approach to his subject (which he describes as “a nature- study point of view”) is closer to the tenets of early Modernism, in that it demands that the artist’s personal feelings remain in check. Freud has stated that “freshly felt emotions can’t be used in art without a filter”; This suggests that one’s working method serves as a sieve by which one can process course, unmitigated feeling, as well as a means by which one can translate personal and obscure phenomena into a comprehensible idiom.
Claude Debussy once wrote “The sound of the sea, the curve of a horizon, wind in leaves, the cry of a bird leave manifold impressions in us, And suddenly, without our wishing it at all, one of these memories spills from us and finds expression in (musical) language”. Debussy was less concerned with providing musical representations of nature than with exploring the correspondences between external phenomena and memory, and in this respect he has much in common with fellow “impressionist” (Claude Monet who, whilst ostensibly devoted to the recording of appearances (hence Cezanne’s jibe), was concerned with exploring perceptual sensations (5.). This propensity is reflected in the intractability of much of the subjects he chose to paint (such as mist on a river), and is corroborated by his own admission that he was “driven more and more frantic by the need to render what I experience”.
Monet is often overlooked as an innovator, owing to the great popularity of his work. Later pieces, such as “Water Lilies- Green Reflection” (1916- 26) seem to anticipate abstract art, in that the paintwork often subsumes the subject, and one gets the impression that the artist is endeavouring to record the fleeting, indiscernible modulations of light and hue that occur in the passing of time, perhaps even striving to impose an awareness of duration on the non- temporal medium of painting. Monet’s afore- mentioned concern with recording perceptual experiences led him to expand the scale of his canvases (before finally dispensing with frames so that the spectator’s field of vision is dominated with the painting. The vast, curved canvases of “Nympheas” (1916- 1923) fill two rooms of the Orangerie in Paris, and place the spectator in the heart of Monet’s world, where the barrier between our dimension and that of the painting are perceptually eroded and appear to vanish. The sheer all- consuming quality of this work anticipates Jackson Pollock, who, like Monet, sought to place the spectator in the midst of his paintings. Pollock’s “Lavender Mist” (1950), constructed through flinging paint on a horizontal, flat canvas is, no doubt, less comprehensible than a Monet landscape. This is illustrative of one of the essential differences between the two men; for Pollock, a work’s subject was the act of painting itself (“a state of being”), which was a vigorously physical process of “self discovery”.
Nevertheless, Monet’s later works obscure the distinction between abstraction and figuration, and indicate a point of purely “painterly” engagement, not dissimilar to Rosenberg’s communion with the“revelation in the act”. A painting, regardless of it’s subject or style, usually comprises of the same substances (oil, pigment, smudged or sketched on stretched canvas), rather like how a poem, as contended by Mallarme, consists not of feelings, but of words.
Igor Stravinsky, in the true anti- Romantic fashion of the progenitor of Neo- Classicism, once commented on how music is “essentially powerless to express anything at all, whether a feeling, an attitude of mind, a psychological mood, a phenomena of nature etc” and is primarily a means by which one can establish ‘an order in things, including and particularly, the coordination between man and time”. Disdaining of the bombastic emotionalism of late Romanticism that, before the first world war, had reached it’s apex with monumental works such as Mahler’s “Eighth Symphony” (1906- 07) and Schoenberg’s “Gurrelieder” (1900- 11), many composers sought the formal lucidity and structural logic of the Baroque and Classical eras.
The Neo– classical composers operated in a manner similar to that of Glenn Brown; works from the past could be resuscitated, and resituated in a manner that disregarded chronological tradition, as well as lending the artist emotional distance from the subject. In the case of Stravinsky’s ‘Pulcinella” (1920), a ballet based on pieces by (or at least attributed to) Giovanni Battista Pergolesi, there is often little regard for the proprieties of the period from which Stravinsky has “borrowed”; in “Pulcinella” the harmonic and rhythmic alterations upset the balance of the music, and the instrumentation (with prominent woodwind)) is perhaps “unsympathetic” to the original themes.
Like Brown, the practitioners of Neo- Classicism were accused of lacking authenticity and, in the case of Stravinsky, being contemptuous of a (musical) heritage that had been reduced to a storehouse from which artefacts could be plundered and discarded in equal measures. The latter claimed that his creative imperative was affection, asking “what force is more potent than love?”, but there is, as with Brown, a sense of art being conceived in inverted commas, and one may correspondingly find one’s sympathies wilting at the touch of what Paul Griffiths calls “the dead hand of irony”.
I began this essay by questioning the validity of a specific art practice, namely representational painting, in this age. I conclude with the reflection that this question is not new, and will probably remain unanswered, for at least as long as canvas, brushes and paints are available. Despite being “functionally” killed by photography, representational painting has persisted and will probably continue to do so, undergoing modulations of style and subject, reflecting it’s time and, occasionally, cannibalising its’ heritage. I have endeavoured to draw parallels between visual art and art music, as both have undergone corresponding transformations in the last 120 years. Both have also been subject to examination and reconfiguration, as material practices and as vehicles by which one can voice ideological, schematic or personal expression.
Whilst one might agree with Freud’s assertion that unmediated expression is akin to people “thinking that manure is just shit, so they shit in a field and they think (this) will feed the plant, (when) it half kills it”, one may equally be concerned as to the extent to which one can excise the personal without rendering the results sterile. Freud’s portrait of Minton appears to exude an essentially tragic emotional radiance; its’ creator could quite reasonably argue that this is a latent tendency on the part of the viewer, facilitated, no doubt, by an awareness of Minton’s misfortunes.
A work of art is, arguably, required to be more than the sum of its’ parts, and when it is presented in an emphatically plastic form (as in the cases of Brown/Neo- Classicism), one might feel perturbed, or even a little cheated. One may well baulk at the individualized (even histrionically vulgar) excesses of Pollock or Rosenberg, citing Roland Barthes assertion that “sincerity is merely a second- degree image- repertoire”, and yet feel viscerally stirred by the personal and universal issues with which Saville imbues her work. Stravinsky’s statement concerning music’s inability to “expressing anything”, was perhaps, like the Futurist imperative, a challenge, in the form of a dramatic gesture, to the still- dominant Romantic idiom, and thus necessitated by it’s time. However, it is interesting to compare this sentiment to Debussy’s desired musical expression of the “correspondences between nature and imagination”. The latter suggest an engagement founded on personal perspective and experiences that, in denying a definitive understanding, might be more "relevant" to our (supposedly) pluralistic age, than the formers’ aesthetic absolutism. However, adopting such a stance might simply supply a supine means of avoiding argument, an “eye of the beholder” type abdication of any responsibility to probe and query the arena in which one has chosen to operate.
We are, at the point of writing, just four years into the 21st century and still many of the questions posed over a century ago remain open to debate, with no definite answers forthcoming.
This is, perhaps, just as well.