Dancing in Space: A Tribute to Arthur C. Clarke
Today, Clarke and Kubrick are together again, in the next dimension over. Would that they could contact us, we would have such a vision of that realm as might answer every question that’s ever been asked about it. But then again, they are probably too busy conceiving something that lies further on still, beyond the beyond.
What Clarke saw in the 1960’s; what he and Kubrick gave us, was one of the defining artistic achievements of my generation. To this day, whenever I hear the Blue Danube Waltz, I think of that space station — round, twisting, cavorting, dancing in space as if it were alive.
And indeed, it was; and it lives again for every new generation. About two months ago, I had the chance to experience one of those truly precious moments of a parent’s life, when I introduced my daughter to 2001: A Space Odyssey. That moment when the ape’s bone, thrown into the sky, became a spaceship thrown into the cosmos, brought the same chills that it gave me some 40 years ago, when I first saw that film in a tiny, small-town movie theater.
If you’ve never experienced 2001 — either Clarke’s book or the film whose screenplay was a collaboration between Kubrick and Clarke — then no words I can write about it will make sense until you’ve had that experience. I very rarely recommend that anyone buy a dvd of a movie, because I think there are very few films that need or deserve to be seen more than once. 2001 is one such film: a movie you will never tire of seeing.
Clarke’s vision of the future is more than mere sci-fi, in the same way that J.K. Rowling’s vision of magic is more than mere fantasy. What Clarke discovered was a wholly new world of metaphor, a weightless, boundless space in which poetry could breathe and move; a place where our evolutionary roots and our unknown future could touch the same doorway between dimensions — a place where giant spaceships can dance.
It is my hope that Arthur Clarke made his own passage in the knowledge that through his life and his vision, something was brought to humanity that we never had before, and that will never be replicated. His work will endure and transform like that inscrutable slab — rock made light, a stone of pure energy — for as long as there are beings in the cosmos capable of understanding and loving pure art.
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And now, your Transcendental Daily:
Do we call this the land of the free? What is it to be free from King George and continue the slaves of King Prejudice? What is it to be born free and not to live free? (Thoreau, Life Without Principle).
i saw 2001 when i was still in HS and too young to appreciate the artistry, though i did appreciate both the use of music and the strong visual element. maybe i need to at least rent this one! some art is just not very comprehensible to a 16 or 17 year old.
Yes! 2001 blew my mind too! I first saw it in a Boston theater on sort of a whim to kill some time, and knew very little about it in advance. I came out of that theater into bright sunlight totally shaken and feeling transformed. To this day I often play Thus Sprak Zarathustra way up loud and “entertain” my family by acting out the monkeys’ movements. Perhaps the nearest thing to a religious experience, along with the Tuba Miram from Verdi’s Requiem, that I’ve experienced. Ahhh, but it’s all just an excess of certain brain chemicals hitting hard some of my synapses….. ;-)
The dvd contains the movie and an extra’s disc which has art work, cells, interviews with artists, photographers, actors, and Clarke and Kubrick as well; and some amazing reflections on both the science and art behind the film. It is to this day studied for it pioneering visual fx, and the science of the film is extraordinary, given that LBJ was still president when production on the movie began. The film was released a year before the real-life lunar landing, so these guys were basically guided by their own vision along with some expert scientific advice and prospective research.