Many times I have given examples of Kate’s interest in “things of beauty.” Most often, this has involved all the “green” (principally trees, but also shrubs) she sees wherever we are, at home or on the road. It also includes the paper doilies she occasionally brings home from one of the restaurants we frequent. She keeps them in several places in the house. About half a dozen are on her bedside table where she enjoys them when she wakes up in the morning.
I have been able to appreciate what she sees in each of these things, but once in a while she surprises me. She did that just before the sitter came yesterday. I was seated across the room from her when I heard her say, “This is beautiful.” I thought she might be talking about the orchid plant on the table next to her. When I looked, I discovered that she was entranced by the remote control for the TV.
For years, I have had a periodic discussion about art with my two email friends from college, Tom Robinson and Bruce Morton. Tom is a retired philosophy professor, and Bruce started on his PhD in philosophy before developing other interests, one of which is photography. Our discussions revolve around the same question. “What is art?” I have always held the position that art, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. I know mine is a pretty loose definition, but it seems to work for me given the variety of creations that are officially called art and displayed in the world’s finest museums.
The beauty Kate saw in the cable TV remote was something of a stretch even for me, but I hold to my position. In fact, I think it’s an excellent example. Most, if not all art, seems to possess qualities that involve color, shape, texture, and subject matter. When I took a more careful look at the remote, I began to consider these qualities. I could see how she looked at it as a thing of beauty. It has forty-four individual buttons of different shapes, sizes, and colors and organized around different functions. The mount on which these buttons are located is a reasonably attractive shape and presents a contrasting color for the buttons themselves.
Yes, I think the remote is, or could be called, a work of art. I am sure that it’s designers would agree. They no doubt spent a long time working to make it both functional and attractive . It’s really an iconic symbol of our time. If someone like an Andy Warhol were to have painted a “portrait” of one in much the same way he painted the Campbell soup can, surely many would see if as art. I know I’ve seen stranger things at museums like MOMA in New York.
Of course, I am just playing fun and games with this topic, but there is a serious side to it. That involves the ability of people with dementia to see and appreciate things that most of us overlook. Kate’s life is filled with those. Wherever we go, she sees things that catch her attention. It is usually for something more understandable than a remote control, but also something that I was about to walk by without appreciating. Increasingly, I have come to believe that in the absence of her rational abilities, her ability to sense the world around her has increased to compensate for that loss. There may be a lesson in this for all of us without dementia. It’s a wonderful world, especially when we stop and consider the little things we take for granted. They may be of greater value than we thought.