As part of a series of reproductions from the website Gilded Birds (www.gildedbirds.net), King’s Review presents an interview with composer (and King’s college alumnus) Thomas Adès. The interviews published by Gilded Birds offer  a ‘snapshot of contemporary ideals of beauty’. Interviewees are asked  to discuss a significant object – a painting, a sculpture, a photograph,  a book – which, to them, is beautiful. By inquiring into experiences of  particular objects, Gilded Birds sketches a portrait of contemporary notions of beauty in general.

Thomas Adès, composer, on a picture of his niece, Sylvie

Gilded Birds:

Why did you choose this picture?

Thomas Adès:

Well, there are things in the picture  that could look like the result of planning – the harmony of the colours  between flowers and clothes – the thoughtful pose and the light from  the window, which is reflected from a river – but I like the fact that  these things are actually an accident. Or at least, not pre-meditated. I  wonder if anything beautiful is ever entirely an accident, even if it’s  entirely unconscious.

GB:

Is a part of its beauty sentimental? If Sylvie wasn’t related to you, would you still find it beautiful?

TA:

The recognition of beauty betrays a kinship that  reaches back beyond us. Not only she is related but she is in my late  grandmother’s room – her great-grandmother – whom she never knew but of  whom there is a strong sense in the picture. Yes of course that is  sentimental but it’s no good being afraid of things like that. It’s much  stronger to stand up and acknowledge the presence of sentiment than to  shy away in a sterile purist way. I like it when there is a conflict  between the recognition of beauty, which is an unwilled, immediate thing  rather like a door slamming open in us, if a door could slam open,  where we have no choice about it and can’t control it; and what might be  called taste, or aesthetic, with which we attempt to mediate our  reaction. It always amuses me to see people struggling with that, if  they find something beautiful that doesn’t coincide with their  aesthetic. Beauty doesn’t come from nowhere, even if it simply reminds  us of a primal sensation that comes perhaps from childhood, perhaps from  some primeval genetic memory.

GB:

Is this a different kind of beauty from the 18th century paintings you like?

TA:

I like that this photo looks very classically  posed but it is in fact one of many snapshots – if you look at the angle  you can see it is homemade. It reminds me that even something very  difficult for modern tastes, say a Greuze portrait of a child, something  which might now seem too willed and posed, is in fact a record of an  intense but fleeting moment of real life. But Greuze actually aims to  create an impression of spontaneity – he very rarely paints profiles or  full face, always three-quarter-face – whereas this picture is a  spontaneous moment that in the pose looks more like a formal Renaissance  portrait. But the aesthetic is quite Rococo, with nature in the  interior. Also, the way symbolism can work in those pictures was perhaps  more natural than it at first seems to us. Sylvie quite commonly goes  around with flowers in her hair – it’s an accident of the moment that  they become emblematic of something or other.

GB:

Does beauty come up for discussion much in your work?

TA:

I’ve been lucky enough to have it occasionally  said, things like “moments of ravishing beauty” – there are two problems  with this: one, it is a point where inadequate criticism throws up its  hands, and ninety-nine percent is inadequate; and two, the  adequate critic would be able to see that the “beautiful” moment is just  a flower that blooms at the tip of a huge plant. If we were permanently  conscious of the beauty in the entire plant we’d be paralysed. But  that’s what the artist has to strive towards.

GB:

What makes something worthy of the word Beauty to you?

TA:

I like that it is disarming – like a child before it knows about right or wrong.

With thanks to Kerry Shaw and Thomas Adès for permitting the reproduction of this material.