Elara’s Jungle Masterpiece: Canvas to Lab
Elara is a brave and compassionate “degen” denizen of the Jadewynd Jungle. Born of the White Tigrento species, she embodies the essence of an “old soul”, her heart overflowing with tenderness for all living beings, an instinctive caretaker of the wild. She is a well balanced creature living in perfect harmony with nature’s rhythms and possessing a graceful strength that commands respect and admiration. With the agility and strength of a white tiger and the cunning dexterity of a racoon, Elara has luxurious snow white fur with individual strands that feel like silk to the touch. Faint beneath the plush white sheen, are deep and rich black stripes of coarse hair, with an intense darkness that almost appears opaque. Soft jet black and tightly packed short hairs around her icy blue eyes create the impression of an amusing but bashful mask.
As with all well balanced creatures of the Yin and Yang pull of the Decrypting Khaos Realm, Elara has a fascinating talent for shape shifting, particularly for durability and prosperity in the Jadewynd Jungle. When entering the khaotic waters of the Nirvathi River that spider web through the jungle, her extravagant white fur recedes while her black stripes become more prominent, morphing into a protective coat creating a more hydrodynamic profile. Her massive paws become webbed, while her glacial eyes shift to a soft green hue and the “mask” around them is replaced by a thin layer of skin adjusting her sight to the underwater environment allowing her to see with incredible clarity. In her aquatic form, even with her amphibious adaptability, Elara is every bit as captivating as she is on land. Some say that those who are fortunate enough to see a White Tigrento in the wild are blessed with good luck and protection from harm for the rest of their days!
The lush and vigorous Jadewynd Jungle emerges from the steep slopes of the Misthollow Coastal Mountain Range, as if mother nature gradually brought the vibrant green canopy to life. The verdant jungle extends to the west coast of the Decrypting Khaos Realm where it meets the edge of the far stretching Turquessence Sea. The Jadewynd Jungle is an artist’s paradise exploding with a riot of colors. The towering trees are adorned with a plethora of textured greens, reminiscent of the skillful strokes of a painter’s canvas. Millions of emerald green leaves, speckled with streams of golden sunlight, cast dapple shadows on the earthy ground. The air is filled with the sound of exotic creatures, their calls and songs filling the space with a symphony of nature’s music. Bright blooms of vivid pinks, succulent oranges and prestigious purples, delicately sway in the gentle breeze, while the twisted vines of rich browns and royal greens intertwine. Jadewynd is akin to a sublime work of art, meticulously designed with sophisticated details.
Elara is an ideal creature for the Jadewynd Jungle, as she possesses immense artistic talents. With her skilled claws acting as precise instruments, she brings the full spectrum of colors to life, ensuring every element of her creations are captured in intricate detail. Elara started her passion of art using the natural beauty of the jungle as her canvas under the cloak of darkness, transforming the jungle into a breathtaking piece of art while only the nocturnal creatures gazed on in astonishment. As the first rays of sunlight would break through the canopy, her artwork came alive, and all the creatures of Jadewynd would stop to stare at the magnificent masterpiece of swirling colors that drew them in and captured their imagination. Embarrassed easily, Elara blended in with the shadows while feeling a sense of pride and fulfillment as she stood among those who admired her art. Secretly she listened to their murmurs of praise for the treasures created by the unknown creature of the community affectionately dubbed the “Graffiti Degen”.
Over time, technology seeped into Jadewynd, becoming an integral part of society along with the rest of the Decrypting Khaos Realm. Elara discovered her passion for digital art and became proficient in the new technological ways of production, sharing her work and becoming a renowned artist of the jungle. As Elara’s artwork gained popularity, it inspired others to follow in her paw prints, filling the jungle with beautiful and thought-provoking pieces of art! The best of the artwork was displayed in a cave at the heart of the jungle, named Canopy Creations. The cave was hidden from plain sight, and only accessible through a narrow, winding path through the heavy foliage. A striking visual experience was constructed in the Canopy Creations cave, as peepholes of light from the outside illuminated the rock walls lined with physical and digital art, showcasing a variety of materials and mediums.
However, the introduction of technology not only brought benefits but also some negative consequences. The ability to create and share artwork allowed Elara to reach a wider audience than ever before, yet her art could be easily reproduced and shared. As a result, Elara had to balance her passion for artistic creation with her responsibilities to the care of the jungle. Visiting the Canopy Creations was a regular activity for Elara, as she found pleasure in observing the ever evolving artwork and encouraged the talents of her fellow artists in the community. Elara’s insatiable hunger for knowledge left her yearning for more, feeling a bit starved for the opportunity to expand her mind.
One beautifully robust day, Elara was admiring the dynamic artworks adorning the walls of the Canopy Creations when her eyes were suddenly drawn to an unusual painting depicting an ancient stone tablet hanging in a tucked away corner. The details on the tablet included mysterious inscriptions written in an unknown language, yet Elara couldn’t help but feel compelled to step closer, bewitched by the complex and skillful brushstrokes within. As she approached, the inscriptions began to glow, casting a supernatural light that seemed to go unnoticed by anyone but her. Elara continued to gaze intently at the tablet, feeling a sense of mystery and wonder envelop her, not noticing she was just inches away from the epitaph. The stone surface trembled as a tiny, dark sphere emerged, encircled by crackling red and blue electric sparks that snapped unpredictably. Elara felt a strange attraction to this object, as if it were calling to her.
Hypnotized by the flashing charm within the growing sphere, an unseen force seized her by the scruff, yanking her into the inky abyss of a portal, whisking her away to an unfamiliar, dimly lit chamber. Elara found herself dazed, sitting on a lavish cushion beneath the faint light from an unknown source. As her eyes adjusted in the darkness she noticed a shadowy figure standing before her, its form resembling that of a human, a creature she had never encountered before, and heard of only in jungle folklore. After a moment, the figure moved away from Elara without a word, walking to a nearby bench, sitting down with its back to her.
Elara used the moment to observe the territory around her. It was a spacious room, with a calm, still atmosphere and a pleasant temperature. It was filled with a chaotic amalgamation of a magical alchemist’s lair and a mad scientist’s laboratory with bubbling potions and serums in beakers and flasks scattered around. Tables and shelves were full of advanced data mining computers, coded algorithms, cryptographic hashes, and futuristic tools for creating digital art in a way Elara could only begin to imagine. The soothing sounds of the bubbling serums and the gentle hum of active technology filled her ears, as she realized the subtle glow upon her came from the multitude of digital screens all around.
As Elara scanned The Lab, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps resonating in the distance, growing louder as she sensed the ground beneath her shake with each passing thump. Her heart raced with anticipation, but to her surprise, the creature that appeared before her was not frightening at all. The Monster’s blue fur was as soft and lustrous as Elara’s own, its singular eye held a friendly, yet curious stare and its gentle demeanor put her at ease. The Monster cast a quick glance at the human hunched over the table, then shifted its one-eyed gaze back to Elara and spoke in a manner that she could understand effortlessly, despite any language barriers.
The kind Monster invited Elara to sit with him, and offered some delicacies to pacify her nerves, somehow understanding that the jolt through the portal must have been taxing. The Monster explained the human sitting at the table was an eccentric billionaire scientist with a brilliant mind who had devoted his life to unraveling the secrets of the Universe. This scientist was a leader amongst many in the deciphering of several stone tablets discovered on a place called Earth which exposed an ability to summon the Monsters into our many worlds. The tablets talked of the different species of Monsters and their tremendous abilities and cutting-edge advancements they bring with them. The considerate blue giant suddenly realized he never introduced himself, and revealed to Elara he belonged to the powerful Ogamyth Monster species, and his name was Skyreth.
As it turned out, the billionaire scientist had not only stumbled upon the existence of the Monsters, but had also established a communication channel to connect them to worlds through the social media platform known as the Social Bird. Elite Crown Monsters who have acquired great knowledge from their travels through the multiverse, were sent to Earth to aid humanity in regaining their lost senses and intellect. The human race had become dependent on and controlled by Web 2 platforms owned by a small number of powerful companies who utilized the vast amounts of personal data to generate profits and influence behaviors.
The development of Web 3 concepts brought new hope with the power of decentralization and control over personal data. The Monsters working alongside humanity could use their abilities and innovations to progress Earth, and all its beings, through their greatest challenges. And so Skyreth divulged how the scientist brought him to The Lab to undergo a transformation to change his appearance into something more acceptable for the city he was chosen to assist. The process involved altering his physical features and outfitting him with human-like clothing to blend in with the population.
Elara was enchanted by the possibilities of Web 3 concepts and the potential to revolutionize the way artists could create with a sense of greater ownership, as well as the ability to monetize it directly through blockchain technology. The prospect of being able to break free from the limitations of traditional art distribution models and connect directly with an audience filled her with excitement and inspiration. As Skyreth saw the sparkle in Elara’s eyes and her genuine interest in the potential of Web 3, he recognized her passion for learning and her capacity to make a difference. With a gentle smile, Skyreth invited Elara to join him on his journey to aid humanity and explore the vast intelligence of this new technology, and to bring back these concepts to the Jadewynd Jungle to help her own kind.
Elara, who had never embarked on her own adventure, eagerly leapt at the freedom presented by Skyreth, recognizing an amazing prospect to explore and discover, all the while making her own magnificent memories and lending a prop up paw as she was so lovingly accustomed to. After the scientist prepared Elara with a minor transformation in The Lab, Skyreth, with the ability to harness energy and manipulate matter, took a deep breath and focused, summoning a portal back to his city. Elara recognized the growing black sphere from the stone tablet in the Canopy Creations cave, crackling with red and blue power and promising adventure! Elara’s heart raced as she looked into the portal, feeling the pull of the uncharted digital terrain. With a determined glint in her eye, she stepped forward, following Skyreth into the unknown, and the portal closed behind them with a resounding boom!
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The Mouth that roared: How Caravaggio’s Malta masterpiece inspired Beckett
Walking into St John’s Co-Cathedral in Valletta, Malta is like walking into the canvas of a particularly lush and sumptuous artwork. Every inch of its arches and pillars and domed ceilings is covered with carvings and paintings, in plush golds, reds, purples, blues. The floor is made entirely of coloured inlaid marble, each slab a tomb for the Knights and Officers of the Order of St John. The epitaphs are mostly concerned with victory and death; angels with triumphant trumpets, death with a sickle and an hourglass, the warning of time passing. Then beneath the opulent curved ceiling of the nave, depicting scenes from the life of St John, stands the main altar bedecked with a purple and red canopy. It houses an enormous statue of the Baptism of Christ.
The cathedral has not always been quite this ornate. When it was built in the 16th century, the interior was rather modest and more in keeping with the unassuming exterior, with its almost military-like appearance. The main entrance is flanked by two large bell towers and a clock. For the first 100 years, the cathedral stayed like this, until it was remodelled in the 17th century by the designer Mattia Preti in high baroque style. The soft, Maltese limestone made a perfect surface for carving each pillar and archway.
It was this sight that would have greeted the writer Samuel Beckett when he walked through the doors one autumn day in 1971. Beckett was staying on the island with his wife, Suzanne, just north of Valletta in the Selmun Palace hotel, but a trip to the town brought him to St John’s Cathedral, almost certainly to see the treasure housed in the oratory. For, just to the right of the main entrance there is a room with large, wooden doors. When these are thrown open, they reveal an astonishing sight.
A black, white and terracotta tiled floor leads to a rug-covered set of steps and hanging there on the wall, above a small altar, is a Caravaggio. The Beheading of St John the Baptist was commissioned as an altarpiece by the cathedral after Caravaggio fled to Malta to escape a murder charge in Italy. By joining the Order of St John, the painter was able to dodge any charges that may have been brought against him and stay in relative safety, protected by the Knights. In 1608 he completed this canvas, his largest painting, which has been described as the greatest painting of the 17th century.
It is certainly large, measuring 12ft by 17ft, and employs the classic Caravaggio chiaroscuro technique of tonal contrasts (chiaroscuro literally translating as “light-dark”). This brings about the effect of illuminating certain figures in the scene, casting an almost divine light on them, creating drama and tension. Combined with a classic Caravaggio gloominess, the effect of a spotlight is intensified further, resulting in what came to be known as tenebrism – dramatic illumination.
The Beheading of St John is dominated by an inky-black canvas, with much empty space. Certain features are just visible in the dimness. A barred window to the right of the frame shows two figures peering out. A large, brick archway dominates the background, centre-right.
Yet focus is drawn to the two highlighted men at the front of the canvas. The executioner bends over the prone figure of John the Baptist in the throes of finishing off the beheading. A sword lies on the ground, as the executioner reaches for a small dagger – the knife of mercy – to remove the still partially attached head. Salomé bends over the figures expectantly holding a golden platter, while another man in a blue cloak points at the plate, as if instructing where the head should be flung.
But there is another person in this painting, and it is this figure that caught the eye of Samuel Beckett. An elderly woman stands in the group watching the execution, aghast. Both her hands are clutching her head, perhaps partly in anguish, and partly to drown out the macabre sound. The scene is pure horror and violence. A red river of blood streams from John the Baptist’s neck, pooling at the bottom of the canvas, dead centre. In the 1950s when the painting was restored, a curious ghostly detail became visible. Caravaggio had signed his name in the blood, making this the only known, signed painting of his today.
On that autumn day in 1971, Beckett spent a full hour looking at this painting. Standing, unmoving, he absorbed every detail, concluding that it was “a great painting, really tremendous”. And during that hour he also began to play around with the gaze, placing himself almost as part of the painting itself, writing to the author and scholar Edith Kerns, “I behold both the horror and its being beheld.”
Then, in surely one of the most unlikely scenarios in literary history, he was booted out of the cathedral for being “improperly dressed”. Samuel Beckett, sartorial savant, improperly dressed… it’s hard not to speculate what on earth he was wearing.
Beckett didn’t do anything immediately with his experience. Like many writers, it sat there fermenting away. And neither was it unusual for a writer to be inspired by a work of art. In the late 1950s, during a paralysing bout of writer’s block, Sylvia Plath used art to break the strangling grip, writing poems based on paintings by Paul Klee, Henry Rousseau, Arnold Böcklin, and Pieter Bruegel. But Beckett held on to this image, only for it to emerge six months later, after a five-week trip to Morocco in February 1972.
Beckett biographer Deirdre Bair describes what happened one sunny afternoon at a pavement café. Beckett spotted a woman wearing a djellaba, a loose robe, crouching at the side of the road. She appeared to be intensely waiting, and every so often would stand up, peer into the distance, and flap her arms, before crouching down again. Beckett watched entranced, and a little mystified.
Eventually a school bus arrived, the woman kissed and swept a child into her arms and disappeared into the crowds. There was something about that encounter that made Beckett ingeniously combine the Caravaggio painting with the waiting woman, resulting in the literary genesis of his play Not I. But it was a genesis that had roots as far back as 1963, when Beckett first started toying with the idea of a play that would feature a woman’s face, alone, in constant light.
Upon his return home to Paris, Beckett wrote Not I quickly, in just 12 days. The spotlighted, horrified face of the old woman in the Caravaggio, emerging from the gloom, became one of the main inspirations for the disembodied mouth, the only visible feature on an otherwise pitch-black stage illuminated by a beam of light.
The Mouth delivers a series of monologues in jumbled sentences at break-neck pace, telling the story of a woman, roughly aged 70, who has suffered some unspecified trauma. Thinking this must be a punishment, the Mouth goes over events from her life, hoping to uncover what it is she is being punished for and what she needs to confess. In addition to a continual buzzing in her head, there are moments when the Mouth appears to be listening to voices that the audience cannot hear. Equally, she is tormented by the constant light. But earlier versions of the play also feature a mysterious character downstage right, the Auditor, a hooded figure that raises its arm at each break in the monologue. It was this figure that was inspired by the waiting woman in Morocco. When Beckett was asked if it was supposed to be a guardian angel or death, he shrugged his shoulders, flapped his arms, and remained silent on the topic.
The play premiered in November 1972 at the Forum theatre in the Lincoln Center, New York, directed by Alan Schneider, with Jessica Tandy playing the Mouth, approximately a year after Beckett had first seen the Caravaggio in Malta. Then, in January 1973, it opened at the Royal Court in London with Billie Whitelaw in the role.
Because the Mouth was the only visible thing on stage it was crucial that the actor did not move, in order to keep the Mouth precisely in the beam of light. Whitelaw found herself strapped into a chair, draped in black, with her head in a vice. Not surprisingly she described performing it “like falling backwards into hell”. In a later interview, Whitelaw explained how they wanted to offer no escape for people in the theatre, either, so against all the rules they removed the light bulbs at the exit doors and in the toilets, so the audience had to remain with the relentless Mouth that would not let them go.
Possibly one of the most famous performances of the play was not for the medium of theatre at all. Whitelaw reprised the role and was filmed on February 13, 1977 for a BBC programme called The Lively Arts, Shades, Three Plays by Samuel Beckett (available to watch on YouTube). The focus is solely on the Mouth. By now the Auditor had disappeared from the production, and this was something Beckett appeared to remain undecided about. Sometimes he would let the role be dropped due to difficulties lighting it effectively, other times he would reinstate the figure, lighting it even more prominently from above.
Whitelaw recalled his absolutely meticulous involvement in the staging. At rehearsals, she would see him watching intently from the stalls and putting his head in his hands every time she got a word wrong. After Beckett’s death, Not I continued – and continues – to be staged, performed by actors including Julianne Moore, Juliet Stevenson, Lisa Dwan and Jess Thom.
One of the joys of studying writers is unravelling their influences, seeing what they ingest and then what emerges from that ingestion. Although Beckett described both the Caravaggio and the waiting woman as his two main influences, there were probably others, too. Scholars have suggested Nicolas Poussin’s The Massacre of the Innocents and the film Battleship Potemkin.
But there is something wonderful imagining Beckett in Malta, strolling into St John’s Cathedral and becoming captivated by the Caravaggio, his writerly eye taking in each detail of a painting that has hung there for centuries and remains there today. The cathedral oratory offers a darkened respite from the cooling, blue air of Valletta on an autumn afternoon, storms out at sea grounding the ferries. The large, wooden doors are thrown open six days a week to reveal the astonishment of a spotlighted murder, a gruesome beheading. Yet there is something about that face, the elderly woman’s face, illuminated with horror, and looking down as she has done for the last five centuries. Little wonder Beckett found himself so haunted.
Gail Crowther is a freelance writer, researcher, and academic. She is the author of The Haunted Reader and Sylvia Plath
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