Philippe Houzé
Photographe
Beliefs of an Anti-Skeptic
With due regard to that master of words, Raymond Devos, from whom I admit borrowing this title, we must acknowledge that humor and mockery can sometimes bring us much closer to the truth than certain beliefs or certainties.
So yes, I am a believer. And from the little I am able to understand of what science currently accepts, I believe that the gods owe much of their existence to us. Without wishing to challenge our perception of the world, the truth of what we perceive may not be entirely the reality of what truly exists. Our brain—which nevertheless remains an exceptional organ—together with our five senses, is ultimately only a filter that gives us a partial interpretation of a reality that could surpass our imagination and all the laws of physics established so far.
Indeed, not only is it already difficult for us to conceive of infinity, the dizzying vastness of the universe, the possible existence of a multiverse, billions of galaxies and therefore billions upon billions of stars, to accept the relativity of time or the mysteries of dark matter, and much more besides; but with the extraordinary discoveries of quantum physics, which invite us to completely rethink our relationship with matter, space and time, what truly exists could extend the physical and mathematical rules established up to now and open up an entire vast field of possibilities…
In quantum physics, there is a wave-particle duality, meaning that every elementary particle can behave both as a solid body and as a wave. There is also a principle of entanglement, whereby two particles can form an intimately connected system even when they are located in different places throughout the universe. At this scale, particles therefore do not appear as fixed entities, but as fluctuations, probabilities and constant exchanges of energy. The universe is not a collection of static objects, but a continuous dance of relationships and possibilities!
We exist within a universe whose fundamental constituents are in perpetual motion. It is within this context that our miraculous and temporary assembly of particles—our life on Earth—has developed through an evolutionary process, from the first bacteria to the most complex DNA, the result of chance and necessity, because all the chemical, biological and physiological conditions were present for its development.
However, although current scientific knowledge cannot affirm it with certainty, it is increasingly accepted, within this context of duality and entanglement, that our existence is not limited solely to matter, time and space, but that there is indeed another dimension, different from the one perceived through the interpretation of our brain and consciousness. Some even put forward the idea that our biological envelope may merely be the manifestation of a more fundamental energy—like souls clothed in a biochemical body, which would be the instrument through which they became incarnate on Earth.
We can therefore conceive of ourselves as existing in the form of a vibrational structure that constitutes our intrinsic being and our deepest identity, in perfect harmony with the universe. These vibrations might also resonate and connect with other realities originating from a timeless elsewhere, whose nature we are currently incapable of grasping, except by guessing at its existence.
It is within this fertile space of uncertainty that human beings—who feel the need to explain, to materialize the invisible, to give meaning, or even quite simply to create a kind of life insurance policy for the afterlife—may have felt the need to create gods and the religions that followed from them, along with the excesses and abuses we know so well.
Of course, the mystical is necessary because there is mystery; of course, the spiritual is necessary because there is spirit. But although religions have the merit of contributing to the fulfillment of individuals, the proper functioning of societies, morality, education and social conventions, they nevertheless remain far too material to approach what reality might truly be.
And although physics—or metaphysical science—may distance us from religion, there nevertheless remain profound questions and a great mystery concerning the origin and fundamental nature of this universe.
The Truth of Art
I believe that if there is one discipline capable of inviting us to vibrate in communion with this great master of the universe, perhaps we should look toward artistic expression.
But first of all, we need to be precise about what we mean by these words. When we speak of God, it is important to know what we define by that term; the same applies to the word art, which is often used in various senses at a time when it refers to many different activities, whether artistic, artisanal or otherwise…
Aside from all the speculation governing this gigantic market and this economy in its own right, it would be worthwhile to ask what truly constitutes the intrinsic value of a work, beyond its status as a testament to our humanity, to a particular period, culture, technique or body of knowledge.
At the beginning, there is of course the subject, the representation of a subject, or the message conveyed by the artist. Even though the subject has become increasingly abstract over time, it nevertheless remains the starting point, the medium, the connection, inescapable in our relationship with matter, space, time, intelligence, sensitivity, emotions, and beliefs.
The subject is often a witness to an era, a culture, a geographical setting, or a history, enriched by everything the artist can contribute from their own experience, inner life, and what lies most deeply buried within them—even their very DNA. Take Bizet, for example, who wrote the most Spanish of operas without ever having set foot in Spain!
For a long time, religions and ruling powers provided artists with their subjects, making them highly dependent on their patrons. Yet the evolution of art proves that the subject can gradually fade away and become abstract, as in modern painting. Even so, many people will always try to find meaning in it, or a rational or philosophical explanation—sometimes to the point of needing an instruction manual, turning it into intellectual masturbation, or even a vast scam. I believe, therefore, that the quintessence of a work of art does not lie in its subject or its message, but rather in the vibrations that emanate from it and reveal its essential core. The substance lies in the form!
When we watch a film for the second or third time, we no longer do so for the story, even if the plot is excellent, but rather to rediscover the pleasure found in the actors’ finely judged performances or in the beauty of the images.
The same applies to an opera by Mozart or Verdi. What matters most is far less the translation of the libretto—even though it helps with understanding—than the vibrations produced by the beauty of the voices and the music. In another field, Pope John Paul II was loved not so much for the message of the Church, which remains unchanging, as for his personality and his way of being. It is also interesting to recall that, in his youth, he was a man of the theater.
Then come creation and composition. Of course, creation is necessary. Life itself is in a state of perpetual creation, an endless succession of deconstructions and reconstructions arising from a necessary chaos caused by an imbalance, however slight, which constitutes the very essence of movement. Without creation, there would be no life, and we would not be here.
However, in this age of fertile imaginations and rapid change, when new inventions rain down every day in every field, immediately replacing the previous ones without allowing them time to exist, it is difficult to gain the necessary perspective and avoid being absorbed by passing trends.
Creation is everywhere: in the streets, in advertising, in cars, in buildings, on our plates—in every place where our eyes happen to rest. It participates in the styles and movements of the eras in which it exists.
And finally, there is the truth of art. Jean Bazaine wrote in his book Exercice de la peinture:
“This desert—the blank canvas—is entirely invaded by the first step, the first stroke, from edge to edge: a space is created, the white becomes light, and the canvas begins to exist. This first seed comes from us; it is us. It will undoubtedly be our only entirely free act. A second step, a second stroke: another space, another light appear. No doubt we had intended them, but the canvas already existed and, without our realizing it, was beginning to guide us. And little by little, multiplying the gestures and the calls, turning back, alternately affirming and denying ourselves, moving back and forth through this increasingly populated desert, we strive to bring to light this great uncertain body which, in turn, calls us into existence.”
It could not be expressed more aptly: a work of art plays the music of our souls through the artist’s hand, guided by a completely irrational force. It is a form of life that, arising from matter, time, and space, frees us from them through the miraculous balance of lines, shapes, colors, whites, blacks, notes, and silences, which come alive in relation to one another and emit vibrations that resonate in unison with the universe.
Its intrinsic value therefore lies neither in its subject nor in the emotions it evokes, but above all in the profound vibrations that emanate from it.
There is no rational explanation or fully intelligible reasoning that enables our consciousness to understand why a work of art comes alive. It imposes itself and takes on a life of its own, in harmony with the artist. It has no age; it exists outside time, trends, artistic movements, and matter.
It helps us glimpse the light, invites us for a moment into a dialogue with the invisible and with souls, and whispers…
Science brings us closer to accuracy, art brings us closer to truth.
P.H.