By Samuel Ameh
Miscommunication is like a pebble that often falls into the pool of human interaction, particularly in the realm of creativity. While some miscommunications can be easily resolved, others linger for days, months, years, decades, and possibly centuries. Recently, the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympics brought forth a typical example of miscommunication.
Many who hold a strong Christian perspective argue that the ceremony is a derogation of Jesus’ Last Supper and a spectre aimed at haunting Christianity through a display of classic satanic showmanship and symbolism. Another group, more moralistic than religious, adjudges the entire performance as a propagation of the sickening woke culture, where impunity, immorality, and obscenity are disguised as the ideal lifestyle and the best way of exercising human liberty and freedom.
Amidst all this, another group of individuals, who possess an esoteric knowledge of art, philosophy, and Greek mythology, saw something largely different.
As a neophyte in this latter group, I have spent the past three years dedicated to reading and researching art, history, and Greek mythology. It was from this arcane knowledge that I realised that a miscommunication had indeed taken place between the intentions of the organisers and the general public.
Watching the event, I was astonished to see a large blue figure on the television screen, whose appearance immediately drew my mind to Greek mythology. I saw a bright blue Dionysus singing in French somewhere along the River Seine. That made me pause.
I must admit that despite the advancements in literacy and education, for many people, the world is only perceived and understood through the lens of today, without an awareness of ages gone by, nor the lives and cultures buried in history and the pages of books.
Today, most people view the world from the perspective of dominant religions. However, the blue figure with a bulging belly on stage is none other than Dionysus from an ancient religion—the Greek god of theatre, music, creativity, madness, irrationality, as well as of fruits, vegetation, nature, wine, and ecstasy.
Dionysus, also known as Bacchus, was the unruly son of Zeus and Semele. In Greek mythology, he symbolised chaos, revelry, emotion, irrationality, drunkenness, intuition, and, quite often, inexplicable melancholy. He has always been a beloved figure for many artists across the world.
However, he was not alone. There was another god—Apollo, who represented harmony, analysis, reason, common sense, balance, and progress. Apollo embodied solid structures of order, logic, and light.
These two mythical figures are closely related to the Chinese concept of Yin and Yang—chaos and order—which many philosophers believe the world is divided into. Nietzsche, the 19th-century German philosopher and cultural critic, who remains one of the most influential (and also controversial) thinkers of the modern era, explored this contrast. One of the most extraordinary aspects of his work was his fascination with the comparison between Dionysus and Apollo, which he developed in his most accessible book, The Birth of Tragedy.
Nietzsche believed we should pay close attention to the contrast between these two remarkable characters in the Greek pantheon: Apollo versus Dionysus. Different forms of art (or at times, sports) were related to one or the other. Even their physical appearances were starkly different. Dionysus was often depicted with unruly hair and an unkempt beard, while Apollo was clean-shaven, beardless, always handsome, and tidy.
Archery, for instance, was very Apollonian, as was sculpture. But music was Dionysian. Music spoke directly to emotions. Depending on which form of creativity one engaged in, and how one chose to express that creativity, the path could be either Dionysian or Apollonian.
As time passed, Apollo became more dominant and visible, while Dionysus was relegated to the background.
The depiction in the Paris opening ceremony incited religious conflict. However, the creators’ intention was merely to exercise their creative muscles.
To avoid such controversies, creatives, in their relentless pursuit of aesthetics, must never forget the possibility for miscommunication. As Hegel put it, there is always a need to distinguish between ideals or aspirations (what “ought to be”) and the actual state of affairs (reality). There are inevitable consequences for those who fail to make this distinction—just as the organisers of the Paris Olympics opening ceremony have experienced.