One of my favorite paintings is Experiment with an Air Pump, by Joseph Wright of Derby. I saw it for the first time when I visited the National Gallery in London, in 1988. I sat gazing at it for about a half hour. Here is the painting.
The painting is large and magnificent, as is its theme. In the center a bird is enclosed in a glass bulb. The only way to prove that a vacuum was achieved, at that time, was to put a living creature in the bulb. If it died, that meant that the air was sucked out.
The setting is a Victorian room. On the left a couple sit. The man is looking at the master of ceremonies, and his date is looking with equal attention at him. There is love. Another man, lower left is also watching the experiment and his date is bending over to get a good look; but the fellow in the lower right is lost in thought. We cannot know what he is thinking. Perhaps he is the conscience of the group. Perhaps he is pondering the principles involved.
To the right of the apparatus, a father is explaining the procedure to his two daughters. He has his arms around the one, who is covering her eyes. The other is looking at the doomed bird, but if I remember correctly, she has tears in her eyes. The cause of the trauma is evident. The empty bird cage in the upper right, just above the boy who is opening the shade for more moonlight, indicates that the bird is a family pet, sacrificed to demonstrate a principle of nature.
In the center is the scientist. He is wearing a robe. It was the father who is the host. Grandpa probably wondered into the party and got people talking. Then he invited them into his laboratory. His long hair and focused gaze, directed at the viewer, tell us that he is no ordinary man.
I love science. But this painting is one of the most profound critiques of the scientific passion that I have ever seen. The desire to know maybe the most powerful human passion, the one that has most changed the world. But that desire must be moderated by a concern for other, more ordinary human concerns. That, when all is said, is the moral of the story of Socrates.
What got me to thinking about all of this was a 1955 movie: The Quartermass Xperiment. I loved it as a child, and when I watched it this afternoon I was prepared to be disappointed. I was not. With only the most minimal budget, it is a competent alien invasion story. An alien life form hitches a ride back to earth on the first space flight. The main character, Quartermass (pronounced KAYtermass), is a scientist, arrogant and unconcerned with the lives of everyone around him. For him, knowing is the only thing that matters. When he has very narrowly saved the human race from extinction, he calmly walks out to plan the next space flight. Like Experiment With an Air pump, it was a limey production.
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