Concept vs. Idea

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What’s the difference between a “concept” and an “idea”?

Go to the dictionary, any dictionary, and it will tell you these words are synonymous.

And they are… to a certain extent.

 
 

The reason I say this is because yes, a concept IS – indeed – an idea.

But – at least to me – it’s a very particular kind of idea, in that there’s a sense of…. well, for lack of a better word, “FINALITY” to it.

I can explain.

Take the concept of “LOVE”, for example.

 
 

As an idea, “love” is a very foundational kind of idea.

There’s something definitive about it.

It’s a fundamental idea.

 

That’s probably why we use concepts to explain things to children.

Concepts, after all, help children make sense of the world around them.

But something very strange, and beautiful, happens once a concept is assimilated.

  • Suddenly, all bets are off.

  • Nothing is off limits.

  • Every idea counts. 

Take the concept of “elephant”, for instance.

A child who grows up watching Disney movies may have a “Dumbo idea” of an elephant.

French children, on the other hand, may have a “Babar idea” of an elephant.

And then there’s Dali, who somehow had a “Swan idea” of an elephant.

 
 

They’re all drawing from the SAME concept.

But they all have DIFFERENT ideas of this concept.

 

In that sense, an idea is like water.

It comes in many ways, shapes and forms.

Because it is endlessly free flowing in nature.

 

I guess what I’m trying to say is that (and again, at least to me and in my eyes only):

 

An idea is… infinite.

A concept is… definite.

 

And making that distinction is extremely important, in terms of creativity.

Make sure to check out the next post to find out why (ooohhh, cliffhanger… ;o))

See you there!

PS: Oh, and before I forget: happy 2023, everyone! It’s good to be back!

Utterly Original

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Lately, I’ve been thinking about something that’s been keeping me awake.

As human beings, do you guys think we’re able to deliberately and wilfully conceptualize something that’s utterly original?

By UTTERLY original, I mean:

  1. Something that is NOT inspired by ANY previous references.
    Let me give you guys an example of what I mean by that. For the longest time, I considered Van Gogh’s The Starry Night (1889) to be utterly original (given that I know nothing about art, you can understand why…;o)). That was until 2005, during the “Vincent Van Gogh: The Drawings” exhibition at the MET in NY, when I learned that it was actually inspired by Hokusai’s Great Wave Off Kanagawa (1831).

  2. Something that is NOT a combination of other existing things.
    Some say a unicorn is an original creature. And it is. But is also – and ultimately – nothing more than combination of a “horse” (an existing thing) and a “horn” (another existing thing).

  3. Something that is NOT simply an evolution of something else.
    Companies such as Uber, AirBnb and Netflix, which ARE original services, can’t be considered UTTERLY original (at least, in my eyes) because, in essence, they’re simply an evolution of taxi, hotel and video rental services.

Notice that my question wasn’t if we were able to INVENT or DISCOVER something utterly original. That, we can. Of course we can.

Sometimes, these inventions and discoveries happen by accident: gravity (Isaac Newton), penicillin (Alexander Flemming) and, yes, of course, the greatest invention of all, the kickflip (Rodney Mullen), are perfect examples of it.

Other times, it’s by design. No need to list them. There are endless examples and they go from the telephone (Graham Bell) to the DNA structure (Rosalind Franklin, James Watson and Francis Crick).

My question is about sui generis, seminal, unprecedented CONCEPTS.
Are we, as human beings, even capable of ideating them?
Are we able to think of the unthinkable?

Part of me tends to think that if we’re capable of conceiving of the ideas behind expressions and adjectives like “sui generis”, “seminal” and “unprecedented”, then that probably means we’re also able to conceive of things that match these ideas.

Then again, the other part immediately goes:

“Oh yeah? Ok.
Think of something unthinkable, then.
Go ahead.
You can’t, right?
And if you can, then… it ain’t unthinkable.”

The reason I started reflecting on it is because it seems like EVERYTHING that we, as thinking beings, are able to ideate or conceptualize already exists and is, somehow, ALREADY THERE. It’s… for lack of a better word, a GIVEN. Floating in the ether, as part of our existence, somewhat ruling and/or influencing our lives. Sometimes, we don’t even see these things; but we do feel them. And, apparently, that’s evidence enough for us to be able to conceptualize them.

Take TIME, for example.

Time, as a concept, is self-evident. As a matter of fact, I sometimes wonder who the heck was the first person to feel the indefinite and continued progress of existence, identify it as “something” and then, decided to call it “time”.

I feel like “time” may be considered an utterly original concept, in the sense that, as far as my super limited understanding goes:

  1. It wasn’t inspired by any previous reference.
    Actually, it’s quite the contrary: time is the reference behind concepts such as the theory of relativity, birthdays, etc.

  2. It is not a combination of other existing things.
    Years, months, days, hours and seconds were invented by us – arguably by the Egyptians and ancient Babylons – as a way to make sense of the concept of time, and not the other way around.

  3. It is not an evolution of something else.
    I can’t even conceive of what could possibly have been there before time itself and that would eventually evolve into time.

Now, the three questions I often ask myself:

Did human beings invent time? Nope.
Did human beings discover time? Maybe.
Did human beings turn time into a concept? Yep.

Let’s take a look at another example: POWER.

“Power” is another concept that, at least in my eyes, is utterly original in the sense that:

  1. It wasn’t inspired by any previous reference.
    It seems to be the contrary: from the oldest cave paintings ever found, with people hunting animals, to the latest battles fought at The International Dota 2 Championships, power seems to be THE ultimate inspiring reference.

  2. It’s not a combination of other existing things.
    Some may argue that if we combine things like money, sex and influence, the end result is power. I beg to differ. To me, money is a FORM of power. So is sex. And definitely influence.

  3. It’s not an evolution of something else.
    In fact, it’s such a seminal concept that entire fields evolved FROM it and revolve around it: politics, law, religion, sports, business, etc.

Obviously, those same three questions pop up in my hed again:

Did human beings invent power? Nope. (The fights for mating rights in the animal kingdom are the ultimate proof of that).
Did human beings discover power? Maybe.
Did human beings turn power into a concept? Yep.

In both cases, the answer to the first question is pretty clear and straightforward in my mind.
No, we didn’t invent “time’.
And no, we didn’t invent “power”.

As I write this, the answer to the second question still remains a bit blurry to me. I still didn’t fully make up my mind about it. Mostly because I struggle with the verb “discover”. I’m not sure if we discovered time and power (regardless if by accident or by design).

I feel more inclined to say that throughout our entire existence as human beings, we have always intuitively felt the passing of “something” (in the case of time), and empirically felt the allure of “something” else (in the case of power).

Furthermore, we could sense that those “things”, no matter how intangible, had a very real and tangible effect on our lives. And even if we could – perhaps – “explain” what the first something and the second something were, we probably didn’t know what to call them. Until one day, one of us finally succeeded at putting his/her finger on what those “things” were and found a way to “label” them. Decided to give them a “name”.

And just like that, we started calling the first something “time”, and the second something “power”.
Now, does that mean that we discovered them?

Like I said… maybe.
Why “maybe”?

Because discovering something means uncovering something that was previously covered. It means bringing this something to light. Ultimately, discovering something means BECOMING AWARE of its existence. And for some reason, I believe that we’ve always been somewhat aware of the existence of “time” and “power”.

Some way, somehow, we knew those “things” were there.

Discovering Something Implies Being Unaware of the Existence of This Something

To me, discovering something would be, for example, bringing the lifestyle of the Northern Sentinelese tribe to light.

Completely isolated from the rest of the world, and protected by the Indian Government, this tiny piece of land located in the Bay of Bengal is part of the Andaman Islands and is one of the most mysterious places on the planet, as no one knows what happens in the depths of the thick forest that covers the Island of North Sentinel.

How do they live? What language do they speak? How many of them are there? Do they know how to make fire? What do their “houses” look like? And – this is truly mind-blowing – how on Earth did they manage to survive the 2004 tsunami that killed over 200.000 people?  Is it possible that they owe their survival to some kind of groundbreaking technology that we, in the so-called “civilized” world, are still completely unaware of?

No one knows.

I mean… how crazy is that? In a world where human beings have already succeeded at both going to the ultimate heights of Space and reaching the bottom of the deepest place on Earth (the Mariana Trench), to this day, everything we claim to know about North Sentinel is nothing but a wild guess. And you know what? I hope it remains this way forever, for the sake of the Sentinelese people. ;o)

Now, let’s say that someday, all those mysteries are revealed and all those questions are answered. And just like that, we discover that the Northern Sentinelese don’t communicate through sound, but through sight.

Sounds implausible, I know, but not impossible.

Especially when we consider the fact that their Andaman Sea “relatives”, the Moken people (specifically Moken children), have the unique ability to make their pupils smaller and change the lens shape of their eyes, which allows them to see as well underwater as they do above it. So, maybe, people from the Andaman region carry some sort of mutation and are genetically wired to be able to control their eye functions at will.

You know how we widen our eyes when we’re scared and how we narrow them in disgust? We’re essentially communicating with our eyes. In this case, we’re communicating two very specific emotions. Now, use the same rationale and imagine a hypothetical situation where someone (for example, the Sentinelese people) is able to communicate EVERYTHING using only their eyes, and everything they encompass: color, iris, pupil, lens, etc.

Imagine that to be true for a second.

Something we didn’t even know existed – communication solely through sight – would now suddenly be added to our “human experience” repertoire, as we were made aware of the fact that human beings can – indeed – “talk to each other” through sight.

Now THAT would be quite a discovery.

It’s the same thing with the Pyramids.

How were they built? Somehow, no one has managed to reach a definitive answer yet. We’ve come as far as sending probes to freaking Mars, but we still can't crack that one. Unbelievably enough we still don’t know how one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World came to be. Most people hypothesize about some crazy, ancient, unknown engineering solution.

But maybe it isn’t that. Maybe the secret lies in the stones. Literally. Have you ever thought about that? Maybe the Egyptians were aware of some crazy chemical formula that allowed them to temporarily turn stones into something much much lighter, say, a “sponge” of some sort, which would later revert back into stones.

You know how we can get blocks of ice and, depending on the conditions we manipulate them in, we can turn these solid blocks of ice into gas? And then, afterwards, depending on how we handle this gas, and depending on certain conditions, we can solidify them back again? Maybe the Egyptians knew how to do the same thing with stones. Maybe they knew how to turn them into something else, something much lighter. Who knows? Again, we can only guess.

For now, this all sounds like I’m talking crazy.

But how cool would it be if, maybe one day, a team of archeologists came across an old manuscript hidden way deep in the sands of Egypt? And we realized that there’s a mathematical equation written on it, teaching us how to turn hard minerals into soft sponges, much in the same way we’re able to turn heavy blocks of ice into “weightless” gas.

Imagine that to be true for a second.

Something we didn’t even know existed – a formula that could turn stones into sponges – would now suddenly be added to our “human experience” repertoire, as we were made aware of the fact that human beings can “turn solid, heavy minerals into airy, light sponges”.

Now THAT would be quite a discovery.

That’s why I say maaaaybe we have discovered “time” and “power”.
Because I believe we’ve always been aware of the existence of “time” and “power” (even if only intuitively and/or empirically).
And discovery implies being UNAWARE of the existence of something.

Oh, and just to be clear, my train of thought is starting from the premise that the acts of “DISCOVERING something” and “FINDING something” are two completely different things, since the second one (in my eyes) implies being previously AWARE (even if through vague rumors) of the existence of something.

“Concepts are the human mind’s way of simplifying the world around.”
— Edward De Bono

So, if we didn’t invent “time” and “power” and if we didn’t discover them either, how did these things become… well, “things”? And how is it possible that we can think about these “things”, about time and power, and talk about them, and understand them much in the same way we think about, talk about and understand things like “trees”, “pyramids”, “islands” and “horses”?

Simple. We conceptualized them.

And as we’ve established, they can be considered utterly original concepts.
But as we’ve also established, “time” and “power” DO exist.
Not only that: we’re aware of their existence.

Which brings me to two other questions that have been keeping me awake:

  1. “When it comes to utterly original concepts, are we only capable of conceiving of those that already do exist?”

  2. And “must we be aware of the existence of these utterly original concepts,, in some way, shape or form, in order to be able to conceive of them”?

What do you guys think?

Let’s say the answer to both questions above is YES.

If that’s true, that we’re only capable of conceiving (again, I’m talking EXCLUSIVELY about utterly original concepts) of things that do exist; and whose existence we’re aware of, then maybe the following conclusion is (once again: MAYBE) also true: “if we can conceive of it, then it MUST exist”.

Now, let’s say the answer to both questions above is NO.

Well, in that case, then Lavoisier’s conclusion in his 1789 masterpiece “Elementary Treatise on Chemistry” is probably not entirely correct (I’m being diplomatic here, and purposefully avoiding the word “wrong”… ;o)). This is what he said on chapter XIII:

 
 
“(…) Nothing is created either in the operations of art, or in those of nature, (…) and that what happens is only changes, modifications.”
— Antoine Laurent Lavoisier
 

In other words, Lavoisier is saying that we can’t – and don’t – CREATE anything; at least, not from scratch. We can use what already exists as building blocks to “create” something new (like getting the utterly original concept of a “woman”, the utterly original concept of a “fish”, and create the concept of a mermaid). But we can’t create new building blocks. And you know what? Personally, I often ask myself if we’re even able to CONCEIVE of brand new building blocks that don’t exist, let alone, create them.

I don’t really like the idea that human beings aren’t able to conceive of brand new, seminal, first-of its-kind, unprecedented hmm…let’s call them “conceptual building blocks”. Because if that’s true, then that means that all existing building blocks already exist as a GIVEN. And all that’s left for us to to play combinatorial analysis. My creative self has the hardest time accepting that.

I don’t care if the number of possible combinations is higher than mol (I’m talking about that ridiculously high number from our chemistry classes: 6,02 x 10 raised to the power of 23). I don’t even care if this number is higher than the factorial of a mol (although, I must admit, that’s a helluva huge number…;o)).

In all honesty, even if the number of combinations we can come up with proves to be infinite, the idea that all we’re ever going to be able to do is “play with a given set of Lego bricks”, instead of conceiving of, inventing and then adding new and never-before-seen bricks to this Lego set doesn’t sit well with me, for some reason.

But what do I know, right? I’m the first to admit that my knowledge of concepts and things pertaining the realm of ideas is as small and limited as anyone else’s.

Which is why the most reasonable thing to do is going to the masters.

Please, give it up for the undefeated champions of concepts and ideas!

On the left corner, straight from the highlands of the UK, we have him, the one, the only, David Hume, a.k.a “The Empiricist”.
On the right corner, him: the Greek Freak, “The Caveman”, author of the most famous “Theater of Shadows” of the Western Civilization… PLAAAAAAATO.

Who will take home the belt?
And who’s going to be the loser?
Well, no need to watch this fight guys.
Clearly, I’m the loser, as both of them believe in the premise that life is made of a given number of “conceptual building blocks”.

Plato calls these blocks FORMS (to which we have access thanks to a quick visit we paid to the “world of ideas” before we were even born).
Hume, in turn, calls them IMPRESSIONS (to which we have access solely through experience).

Nevertheless, what matters is that they – the undisputed, undeniable masters –, together with Lavoisier, seem to agree on the fact that we, as human beings, CANNOT originate these conceptual building blocks at will, deliberately.

Were it to be true, that’d be incredibly sad.
Not to mention, a monumental defeat to all of those who seek originality, feed on creativity and are conceptual thinkers at heart.

Think about it for a second: realizing that every single piece of creative work and artistic expression will always be derivative of something else… isn’t that kind of a bummer? I mean, on the most fundamental, conceptual level.

Of course, we can appreciate the artist’s technique; we can be inspired by the work of art in front of us and be moved to our core. But strictly on a conceptual level, there’s always going to be part of us that will go: “mmm, I think I’ve seen this before somewhere” or “this sounds familiar”. 

Do you know when I get this feeling?

Every single time I watch a sci-fi film.

(Not So) Alien Concepts

Think of any sci-fci movie you’ve ever watched.

Think of the creatures in these movies. Alien beings. We’re talking creatures from different worlds and dimensions here. Don’t they all look a bit too familiar?

From the classics such as Ridley Scott’s 1979 Alien to the more recent ones, such as Dennis Villeneuve’s 2016 The Arrival.

From the strange beings born in the mind of Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro (2004 Hellboy, 2009 Pan’s Labyrinth, and 2013 Pacific Rim) to the ones conceived in the mind of South African director Neil Blomkamp (2009 District 9).

From the gooey disgusting creatures in the hilariously fun B movie Tremors (1990) to the cute and sweet protagonist of Steven Spielberg’s 1982 ET – The Extraterrestrial.

In some way, shape or form, it’s almost as if we could RECOGNIZE something in them, which means, it seems like we’ve seen them before. For starters, most of them have “heads” and “limbs”. Also, most of them have the shape of a human being, as they walk on two legs, usually have two arms and are (at least on the outside) bilaterally symmetrical.

And even when they don’t share similarities with human beings, they do so with animals we all know of or have seen before.
Some look like giant prawns (District 9).
Others look like giant squids (The Arrival).
And then, there are those who look like giant worms (Tremors).

See? The fact that I can throw the “ideas” of prawns, squids and worms are proof that, conceptually, the design of these creatures is NOT utterly original.

Have you guys ever heard of a book known as “The Strangest Book Ever””?

It’s called “Codex Seraphinianus”. It’s kind of an encyclopedia describing and depicting the living beings of an imaginary, unknown world. The book was created and illustrated by Italian architect and artist Luigi Serafini, between 1976 and 1978.

 
 

I’m not going to lie: for a book that holds the title of Strangest Book Ever, I was kind of well… disappointed. Yes, it is original. And yes, it’s beautifully, exquisitely illustrated. But from a conceptual standpoint, I felt like every page presents us with nothing more than a series of drawings that are, more or less, representations of what David Hume calls COMPLEX IDEAS.

In other words, Serafini took a bunch of “simple ideas” (as Hume calls it) and combined them together, in unexpected, weird, odd ways. That’s it.

Speaking of Codex, there’s another book, commonly referred to as “The Most Mysterious Codex” in the world, called the Voynich Manuscript.

Scholars believe it was written in the 15th century (its authorship remains unknown to this day), and it contains roughly 234 pages touching on subjects that go from botany to astronomy and everything else pertaining the natural world. Which means, in short, that it talks about things that already exist in Nature, as we know it (or knew it, some 600 years ago).

Conceptually speaking, as far conceptual building blocks go, as far as forms (in Platos’s vernacular) and impressions (in Hume’s glossary) go, there’s nothing utterly original in neither one of those books. Nothing really new was deliberately conceived. Not in the Strangest Book in The World and not in The Most Mysterious Codex in The World.

Bummer.

 
 

Conceptual Lego Bricks

I remember one day, way back when I was still a teenager, I asked a friend of mine who could play the guitar “how many notes and chords were there and if all the notes and chords have already been invented”.

At the time, I was thinking about taking guitar lessons and I was basically doing some calculations in my head, wondering how long it would take for me to learn how to play every single note and chord. Unbeknownst to me at the time, on a deeper level, though, what I was actually wondering was if the amount of notes and chords one could play was LIMITED.

For some reason, something in me wanted (or better yet, NEEDED) to know if it was possible for someone to conceive of a note or chord that’s never been heard, played or conceived of before. I don’t know why I was so moved or intrigued by this question, but I do remember my friend’s answer:  “yes, all the notes and chords in existence have already been invented”. 

Basically, he was saying that – on a conceptual, fundamental level – we had already reached the end of the musical combinatorial analysis. Right there and then, any desire I might have had to play the guitar disappeared. It’s like, all of a sudden, there was no excitement left. I lost all the interest I had in learning to play the guitar. Pretty strange, right?

Anyway, as a consolation prize to all of us, creatives in our endless quest for utter originality, at least, it seems like the number of combinations humans beings are able to create with the limited amount of notes and chords in existence IS limitless. As a music fan, a rock and roll aficionado and a hip-hop enthusiast, I thank God everyday for that. ;o)

The more I think about:

“our amazing ability to come up with a seemingly infinite number of original creations with a given set of conceptual Lego bricks”
vs.
“our complete inability to conceive of (let alone create) even ONE single new conceptual Lego brick”,

the more challenged I feel to prove the latter wrong.

And the more defeated I feel time and time again, after every single fail.

 

It’s incredibly easy for me to drift into my own reveries, where I ask myself questions like:

  • “Who said that life on other planets is or should be like life as we know it on Earth? Maybe we’ve found life elsewhere already, it just wasn’t what we expected it to be and/or didn’t meet the criteria we – somewhat arrogantly – established. Perhaps life outside of Earth exists in ways we can’t fathom yet.”

  • “Why does every alien creature in sci-fi movies seem to have a sort of “body”? Or why are they always depicted as some kind of “organism”, even when they’re presented as an alien virus? Maybe we shouldn’t be thinking in terms of an “organism”. Maybe alien creatures are something completely different.”

  • “Does every chemical compound need to be categorized as organic or inorganic? Can’t there be third option, completely different from these two?”

  • “Instead of thinking if there could be another state of matter (liquid, gas, solid and plasma), why can’t we conceive of “something else” happening to water, for example? Let’s forget about switching states of matter for a second. As a matter of fact, let’s forget about “state of matter” altogether. Can’t we conceive of something else OTHER than what we came to know as “state of matter”?

These questions fascinate me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. It’s super fun to think about them. It’s exciting to entertain them. But every single time, not even a second after one of these questions takes over my mind, another one (and it’s always the same one), pops in my head.

“Suuure, of course. Like what?”

And that one – THAT ONE –, frustrates the heck out of me, simply because to this day, I can’t seem to find an answer to it. Essentially, to answer any of these questions, I would need to first conceive of a brand new “conceptual building block”, an utterly original “conceptual Lego brick”. And unfortunately, I can’t. God knows I tried and keep trying. But for the life of me, I can’t.

So maybe the masters are right.
Maybe all that’s left for us is “play Lego”.
Maybe, as human beings, we’re not meant to be able to conceive of new forms (in Plato’s lingo).
Maybe we have no business trying to conceive of new impressions (in Hume’s lingo).

But we DO have one card left: we can assign new MEANINGS to any given concept.  

The “form of a tree” is a given?
So what?
That doesn’t mean I am obligated to always see a tree, as in the plant. I can look at a tree and see “my family’s genealogy” if I want to. I can think of a tree and see a bunch of “Christmas presents”. I can see the “the place where kids will be playing on a swing”. The tree can mean a bunch of different things to me.

The “impression of red” is a given?
So what?
That doesn’t mean I am obligated to always see red, as in the color. Red can mean so much more. It can mean passion. It can mean rage. It can mean being high. It can mean being in love. It can mean “Ferrari”. It can mean life, as in blood. It’s really up to us to assign new meanings to the impressions of red.

When I think about that, suddenly, my urge to conceive of new conceptual Lego bricks is (a little bit… ;o)) soothed.

After all, if I can’t come up with utterly original concepts, unless:

  1. they already exist and

  2. I’m aware of their existence

(and even when both criteria check out, I’m still not sure if I can do it wilfully and deliberately),

well, then at least, I can maybe go for the next best thing.

I can simply reinterpret the ones that already exist.
Assign new meanings to them.
And in doing so, I can hopefully, even if only on the most superficial of levels and in the slightest of ways – reconceptualize – them, if you will.

When you start looking at things from this angle, possibilities truly ARE endless.

So, let’s try a little game here, shall we?
Remember the examples we drew from, in the beginning of this article? How “Time” and “Power” could be considered utterly original concepts?

Let’s see if we can assign new meanings to them.

We all know of that “time is money” saying, right? The Zeitgeist we live in has taught us all that time means money. But what if it meant something else? Instead of “time is money”, what if we reinterpreted the concept of time back to what it really is (and truly always has been): free.

Then, all of sudden, if our point of reference is the fact that time is for free, then that means it’s something money can’t buy. Not only that. If it’s for free, then how about if we gave it to one another? Generously. Abundantly. Unconditionally. That’d be pretty nice, wouldn’t it?

As for the concept of power, in my eyes, no one has ever grasped it as precisely as our main man from Germany, Friedrich Nietzsche.

In Der Wille Zur Macht, the German philosopher talks about power as this driving force that has pretty much everything to do with our own individual ambitions, desires and reasons. And from a purely empirical standpoint, I don’t think any of us can ever say he’s wrong, right? Unfortunately, power IS usually associated with the “individual”, at worst, or with the “few”, at best.

It’s always about what I want, when I want it and how I want it.

Now, what if we could change the idea we all have of “power”, and instead of thinking of the “individual”, power meant “the collective”. Can you imagine it?

What if we were able to reinterpret the concept of power through the lens of, say, the “Law of Jante”, a literary construct created by Aksel Sandemose in his 1936 book A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks, which became sort of an unspoken code of conduct in the Scandinavian society? Maybe then, we would have a different interpretation of the concept of power.

Maybe it would start being about what WE want, when WE want and how WE want.

Imagine assigning these new meanings to utterly original concepts like “time” and “power”. Maybe we would all finally be able to also conceive of a new, better world for us all, while using all of our time and power to build it.

That being said, if you ask me, being able to reconceptualize the world as we know it today, turning it into a better and more peaceful place for all of us would be worth WAY more than somehow being granted the Godly gift of coming up with utterly original concepts.

How much more, you ask? Well, about a “factorial of a mol” times more.

At least. ;o)

Dress To Impress (Part 3/3)

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In our last post, we’ve ended on Milena Canonero, and I said that in my humble opinion (that is, form someone who doesn’t understand a lot about fashion nor cinema), her work in A Clockwork Orange remains, by far, her best. Not just because it’s the most original one but also because it’s the most conceptual one.  

Which shouldn’t come as a surprise.

Canonero is and always has been all about the concept. She even said it herself.

About 4 years ago, at 71 years old, Milena was the recipient of the 2017 Honorary Golden Bear for her lifetime achievement at the 67th edition of the Berlin International Film Festival (Berlinale). At the press conference, during her acceptance speech, she surprised everyone by saying this:  

“I’m not really interested in costumes, per se.
I’m interested in the CONCEPT”.

Watch the video below to see the audience’s reaction. Some start smiling in disbelief. There’s even a guy who’s completely in shock, with his mouth wide open.

Come to think of it, this reaction from the audience kind of makes sense.

After all, there she was, being awarded for her body of work as a costume designer and she goes and says that what really interests her is NOT the costume.
It’s something else.
The concept.

Given her status, career length, depth of experience and breadth of knowledge, Canonero’s statement ‘I’m interested in the concept’ sounds like the kind of definitive conclusion that can only be reached after decades working with and learning from some of the greatest directors ever. Sort of like a pearl of wisdom that requires an entire lifetime to be forged.

That’s not the case, though.

Like I said, she’s always been that way. Canonero has always been about the concept. This has always been her approach: to follow the concept above all else.

“It’s not the costume itself that I like to do.
Of course it’s interesting, but it’s more about the meaning (behind the costume).
(The costume) serves a purpose.
(And that’s why) we have to FOLLOW THE CONCEPT”.

These were the words of a younger Canonero, in an interview with Facineshion.com, while speaking about her creative process and also about the wardrobe she created for the very first film she’s ever worked on: the unbelievable A Clock Work Orange. 

Which means that right from the very beginning of her career, her thought process was already 100% concept-oriented. And it was precisely this thought process that led her to create one of the most iconic costumes ever: the outfits worn by the Gang of Droogs.

Indecent.
Deranged.
Disturbing.
Unsettling.

Those were the words that came to my mind when I laid eyes on the costumes worn by the Gang of Droogs for the first time. Coincidence of not, these exact same words could also be used to describe the demeanor displayed by the group of psychotic and violent young men wearing those costumes.

Writer Lynn Hlaing, from F@B - Fashion at Brown (a student-run organization dedicated to bringing fashion to the Brown University community) said it best. She described Canonero’s costumes in the film as a “strange fusion of depravity and class” that “played on elements of rebellion and conformity” while being “darkly charismatic”.

Dang. Now, that’s a perfect description, right there! Well-done Hlaing.

If Canonero urges us to follow the concept, the very next question we need to ask ourselves is: so, what’s the concept behind A Clockwork Orange?

According to an article published by The New Yorker and written in 1973 by Anthony Burgess himself (he’s the author of the book “A Clockwork Orange”, after which Kubrick’s film was made), it was the power of choice (you can read the full article here). 

In the book’s case, Burgess is referring to the choice between “one’s own freewill” versus the “patterns of conformity imposed by a state that has ‘the good of the community at heart’”. There’s a duality there. On the one hand, there’s the citizen. On the other, a state that goes too far, “entering a region beyond its covenant with the citizen”, as Burgess says.

That duality is all over Canonero’s costumes.

We have the bowler hat, which has been long associated with the upper classes. Then we have the bovver boots (bovver is the cockney pronunciation of “bother”), famously used by gangs and hooligans to kick people and opponents in fights. So, literally from head (the hat) to toe (the boots), we can see the conflct and the duality.

Then, there’s cane. The cane carries a lot of symbolism, as it is an item that represents the elite lifestyle. However, on Alex’s hands, it’s also the weapon he uses to attack the norms and traditions dictated by this very elite. Again, there’s the duality there. 

Same thing with the cricket codpiece: cricket is a very elite sport, normally reserved for upper class individuals. In this case, Alex and his mates wear them as protective gears in their battle against, once again, the upper classes.

By mixing the braces (also known as suspenders), which were a working class item back in the 60s (as well as by the skinheads of that time) and elite items (like the cane and the bowler hat) in the same costume, Canonero intended to break the boundaries of class, while somewhat praising the working class and mocking the upper class.

Elena lazic, a French freelance film writer, put it best when she wrote an article for the British Film Institute, in 2019, about the Droogs’ style, when she said that through his costumes, Alex was “turning objects of oppression into weapons and armour for his fight against the oppressors”.

No discussion about the outfit on A Clockwork Orange is complete without talking about the famous (and infamous), iconic fake eyelash on Alex’s eye. Yes. Eye. Singular. That was also intentional. What’s with the single eyelash, anyway? 

Well, instead of my writing about it, let’s listen to Canonero and Barbara Daly - the make up artist – speak about it.

Canonero said: “Kubrick gave me a lot of guidance (…) He always told me that the head is the most visible element in a film and that I should start from there. (…) I worked with Barbara (…) and we decided that (…) the long fake eyelash gave Alex a relentless, surreal look”.

Barbara added that she was looking for something to go with Milena’s incredible costumes: “It had to be something strangely extraordinary (…) something weirdly dramatic. So I said to Stanley, ‘what about trying fake eyelashes?’ and he said, 'Let’s look and see’. (…) (We tried it and) we all thought ‘That’s it!' It’s sinister”.

 
 

Canonero works with a purpose. Her conceptual approach doesn’t allow her to do otherwise. The eyelashes. The codpiece. The cane. The hat. The braces. The bovver boots. Everything was intentionally chosen as part of the development of the character and as a reflection of the character’s psychology. There’s meaning behind every single one of her designs.  

There’s also research: a LOT of it.

Just like Ruth Carter, Canonero is a researcher at heart. 

A great example of her commitment to research can be seen in the costumes she designed for the film Out of Africa (1985), starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford. According to an article from the New York Times titled Milena Canonero: Fashion On And Off The Court, published on Feb 11, 1986, here’s what her research work looked like in the pre-production for the film: 

“After reading the script, she studied the garb of tribes native to Kenya, as well as that of the early-20th-century white settlers. She went to libraries, embassies and museums in Nairobi and London. She also talked to the contemporaries of the author, Isak Dinesen”.

''You find this incredible guy who lives all alone in Yorkshire who's got the biggest collection of Somali references,'' she said. ''You photograph everything. No matter how well you know a certain period, you still go into it.''''Once I've done my research,'' she said, ''I go into what each character should wear”.

By the way, that’s another thing Canonero and Ruth Carter have in common: films that take place in Africa. 

In Canonero’s case, we’re talking about an epic drama that takes place in Kenya and tells the story of an aristocratic woman (played by Meryl Streep) who is torn between two choices: keeping her fancy and sophisticated (albeit extremely boring) lifestyle or giving it all up so that she can experience love and expand her own world next to a free-spirited hunter (played by Robert Redford), who lives a much poorer, much simpler, but extremely exciting, life.

The film is called Out Of Africa.

In Carter’s case, we’re also talking about an epic adveture, which takes place in the fictional African country of Wakanda, and tells the story of a prince turned king (after the passing of his father) and who is torn between two choices: keeping the secrets, wealth and super high tech innovations of Wakanda within the limits of Wakanda (as his father had done before him) or opening Wakanda borders to the world, revealing its rich heritage and sharing its resources with the other Nations of the world. 

Yes. I’m talking about Marvel’s marvelous blockbuster, Black Panther (2018).

Now, I could sit here and spend the whole day writing about the wardrobe Carter created for the film. I love talking about it and I love learning everything about it. In my eyes, it’s one of the most comprehensive and beautiful works of costume designs in recent history. No wonder she won an Oscar for it.

But since this 3-post series has gotten way too long and I’ve taken way too much of your guys’ time already, I’ll narrow things down a bit and focus on something more specific: the fact that there’s a lot more to concepts than meets the eye. And that it is precisely on this wider, deeper side of a concept – the one lying beneath the surface – that we find its true value.  

Carter’s work on the Black Panther is the prime example of that.

For instance, let’s look at the triangle pattern imprinted on T’challa’s (the prince turned king) panther suit.

This pattern was inspired by the Okavango patterns. Okavango is the name of the largest inland Delta in the world and it’s located in northern Botswana. It’s known for being a sanctuary to some of the world's most endangered animals, like cheetahs, white rhinoceros, black rhinoceros, African wild dogs and lions.

The Okavango Delta – in that sense –  is a symbol of Africa’s incredibly rich wildlife and diverse ecosystems. It’s also legally protected through Botswana’s Wildlife Conservation and National Parks Act of 1992 and an associated Wildlife Conservation Policy.

Deltas have a triangular shape, much like the African continent. And that, according to Carter, makes the triangle the “sacred geometry of Africa”. Incorporating the shape to the Black Panther’s uniform represented T’challa’s status as a true African king, who had the legal duty to protect the life and diversity of all the different tribes of Wakanda.

 
 

Isn’t it absolutely wonderful how a simple geometrical shape can carry so much meaning?

You guys want to see another example? Let’s take W’kabi’s costume, for example.

Why is the costume a blanket? Why is it blue? And what are those metallic symbols emblazoned across the blanket?

W’Kabi is part of the Border tribe, which was inspired by the real Lesotho people, more specifically, the Basotho tribe. Lesotho is a high-altitude, landlocked kingdom encircled by South Africa. It’s the only country in the world to have its ENTIRE territory located above 1.000 meters / 3.281 ft. (the lowest point in Lesotho is situated at 4.593 ft.).  

Because it’s located on a mountainous region, where the weather is usually colder, people from Lesotho wear blankets as coats. Just like the members of the Border tribe, which also live on the higher grounds of Wakanda.

The Border tribe inhabits higher altitudes because their main function in Wakanda is to watch and protect the borders from foreign threats. And it’s easier to spot enemies coming from afar when you’re doing it from a higher vantage point. In that sense, the Border tribe is the one with the authority to dictate who gets to cross the border and who doesn’t.  

In Ryan Coogler’s eyes (Coogler is the director of the film), authority and protection are tasks reserved to the police. And the police, in the United States, wear blue. Also, the real Lesotho flag has a very distinct shade of blue, which represents sky. Since the Border tribe lives the closest to the sky and was inspired by the Lesotho people, blue was the color of choice.

The symbols on W’kabi’s blanket are known as Adinkra symbols. Adinkra symbols are a kind of “writing system”, believed to have originated in the region that now comprehends the countries of Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire. The Akan people, one of the main ethnicities of West Africa, are credited for having invented these symbols, around the early 1800s. 

In a way, Adinkra symbols remind me of the first ancient Chinese characters, as they represent universal concepts: leadership, family, strength, love, independence, etc.

In one of the most dramatic scenes of the film, we can see members of the Border Tribe engaging in a grueling battle against T’Challa himself. It’s a rupture in the status quo. Before, the Border Tribe answered to T’Challa. Now, it’s rebelling against him. Times are changing and this fight is a sign of this change. As the members of the Border Tribe stand next to each other, using their blankets as shield, we see a big symbol standing out. It’s similar to the Adinkra symbol that represents “change”, or “times change”.     

 
 

Finally, one last example: the beautiful hat worn by T’challa’s mother, Ramonda, Queen of Wakanda.

The first time we see Ramonda in the film is truly a powerful sight. Even though we’re just being introduced to her, we somehow know she’s not like the other inhabitants of Wakanda. To her right, there’s Ayo, one of the Dora Milaje (the protectors of the Black Panther). To her left, there’s Shuri, T’Challa’s sister, wearing a T-shirt with an Adinkra symbol that means “purpose”. And in the middle, there she is: the queen.

We may guess she’s some kind of royalty because of her shoulder mantle. Shoulder mantles have been used as a royal garment across many cultures since time immemorial. But it’s the hat that gives it away: that’s’s the crown. It was inspired by the Isicholo, which is the Zulu hat worn by married woman in South Africa.

And when I say it’s a crown, I mean it. Take a look at the picture below and you’ll understand what I’m saying.

When Ruth Carter designed it, she wanted the Isicholo to be an extension of an actual crown. And she was unapologetic about it. So, to make sure that happened, she worked with contact Austrian architect Julia Körner, an award-winning designer internationally recognised for design innovation in 3D Printing. Together, they created a truly wearable piece of art, using a polymer that can bend easily but is still strong. 

 
 

Now, let’s be honest.

How many of you already knew about or were aware of all these things I just wrote about? The crown on Ramonda’s Isicholo, the color of W’Kabi’s blanket and the triangle pattern on T’challa’s uniform?

Ok, I’ll go first: I didn’t. I had absolutely no idea. I didn’t know about any of that.

And yet, it was all there: months on end of strenuous and rigorous research, a very specific intent from Carter’s part (she wasn’t looking for African diversity; she was aiming at African representation) and all the different meanings behind each costume.

Unbeknownst to (most of) us, all those things were there.
You know what else was there?

Carter’s massive repertoire, unparalleled experience, immense talent and huge knowledge about costume design. All the lessons and memories she accumulated by working in so many different films, with so many great directos. All those things, they were also there.

And when we put all those things together, we realize the REAL value of concepts (in this case, the ones created by Carter). We don’t immediately see it. It’s not obvious at all. But it’s there. Super there. And when it hits us, it hits us like a freaking iceberg, harnessing all that power that’s lying below the surface to shatter our perceptions. And blow our minds. 

 
Spike-Lee-photo-2-by-Jason-Bell_CROP.jpg
 
“I respect the audience’s intelligence a lot, and that’s why I don’t try to go for the lowest common denominator.”
— Spike Lee at the NY premiere of Bamboozled (2000)
 

I’m one of those people who blindly believe in the notion that there’s something incredibly powerful about creative works and artistic expressions that are NOT OBVIOUS and that require a bit of effort (and repertoire) to be fully understood. And the reason why I say this specific kind of art form is incredibly powerful is simple.

Because they make us think. They encourage us to question. They make us go after references and information we didn’t previously have. They make us reflect on issues we never dared or cared to reflect on before. They strengthen and sharpen our critical thinking. They prevent us from aiming at the lowest common denominator.

And during this whole process, I like to think that they also make us better as people and as human beings.

I’m not sure where Carter got this from: the ability to create beautiful, conceptual pieces of wearable art that make us think.

Her costumes are definitely NOT obvious. Not in the slightest. They’re super well thought out. They’re intelligent. They’re insightful. There’s always a hidden message somewhere, flying under the radar. Things that we may not perceive right off the bat, but that will marvel and surprise us if we decide to put forth the effort and dig just a little bit deeper to find them.

Maybe she got it from Spike. Who knows? If you guys remember the hyper provocative ending of Do The Right Thing, Spike presents us with two quotes that address the relationship between violence and its role in the context of racial justice: one belongs to Malcolm X (advocating violence as self-defense) and one is attributed to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr (advocating peaceful protest).

Spike doesn’t give us an obvious answer. He invites us to think about each quote, reflect on them and reach our own conclusion. As he once said, he refuses to spoon-feed his audience, as this would be the equivalent of underestimating the audience’s intelligence. I agree.

I once said that conceptual thinking is all about thinking about the whys. What I forgot to mention is that, in that sense, conceptual thinking is a universal inalienable right. And if it isn’t, it should be. We all have the right to do so. We were born with it and we will die with it. And any kind of attempt to deprive us from exercising this right should be severely admonished and immediately abhorred.

Now, why some people willingly CHOOSE to not ask why, I’ll never know. Then again, they have the right to do so, right?  They have the right to choose to NOT ask why. And no one can force them to do otherwise.

Fortunately, we have people like Carter, Canonero, Gaultier, Pasztor and Mabry, who can’t help BUT ask “why” during their creative process. And I say “fortunately” because in their tireless attempt to search for answers, they’re able to find purpose for their wardrobe, give meaning to their designs and CREATE VALUE for their costumes.

Now, let me be super clear: this value has nothing to do with the production cost of a particular costume (well, maybe it does a little bit, considering that the first Black Panther suit costed about USD 350.000!). But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about a totally different kind of value.

I’m talking about the kind of value that, for example, a black belt (which is nothing more than a – usually very cheap – piece of fabric tied around a person’s waist) has, both inside and outside the mat.

Behind the aesthetics of a black belt lies an entire set of ethics.

What I mean by that is that a black belt is something that demands a certain demeanor from the person wearing it. It symbolizes the journey that the person wearing it had to go through to be able to wear it. Because of this journey, this person wearing a black belt can have a very specific effect on the people around him or her: love, admiration, respect, fear, envy, etc. And this effect makes these people act or react a certain way.

Now, replace “Black Belt” with “Black Panther suit” and read the paragraph above again, please. See where I’m going with this?

Costumes are created to help actors get into character and deliver the best performance possible. They’re specifically designed to serve the narrative of the movie. Their purpose is to help sell the story being told on screen. After all, the more the audience buys into the story, the better the film will do. The more money it will make. And the more people it will touch.

That’s why the costume designs of Carter, Canonero, Gaultier, Pasztor and Mabry are so, so valuable: because they mean something for the actors. They mean something for the film. And eventually, they end up meaning something for us all, the audience.  

Going back to the beginning of the first part of this 3-post series, fashion – as a creative form of expression – has this unique power: the clothes you wear on your body is usually a reflection of the emotions you do (or would like to) wear on your sleeve. Honestly, it doesn’t get any more conceptual than that.

As protagonists of their stories, each of the characters we’ve seen on this series of posts had their own pick. Malcolm X had the zoot suit. Leeloo had the bandage/bondage-like bodysuit. James Dean had the iconic red jacket. T’Challa had the Black Panther vibranium suit.  

How about you? As a protagonist of your own story, what is your pick?

What is that ONE piece of clothing that truly reflects who you really are (and not what people say you should be or think you are)?

What is the one item that is always there in your closet and that, in your head, never goes out of style, simply because it means a lot to you, and therefore, it is valuable to you? Please, write down on the comments below. Oh, and of course, if you don’t mind, tell us why. I’d love to hear from you.

In the meantime, I can tell you which clothing item I would pick (and still DO pick) to wear once every single day and twice on Sunday. That one item that has been a constant in my life since the 90s.

You’re probably guessing already, right? That’s right. You got it.  

It’s my flannel plaid shirt. Why, you ask?

It’s because… you know what?

Nevermind. ;o)