When two artistic principles stand opposed to each other — for example, that on which the people of today rely, originating from a basic feeling of the defect of guilt and of deficiency, of sickness, which establishes its oeuvre by means of the sublimation of art — then art has, perhaps, many myths behind it that tell of the lack of, or longing for, trust. And out of a lack of yearning guilt for an ancient hatred, even love as a productive power for creation on earth may try to heal the fragility that goes back to an awareness that the world is not healthy and safe, and art like a primal scream that today degenerates into suffering deliberate neuroses of business that wallow in themselves or are bored and intentional, like suffering the extreme diminution of a great thing in the inability of performing a liberating artistic action, with deliberate patricide and the imitation of a sacrificial animal as a claim to power over the world.
Opposed to that primal religious article of faith based on hatred of the fathers and the guilt of the fathers, along with the claim of the suffering victim for salvation through world power, stands the other artistic model that seeks certainty and salvation in a longing desire for universal trust, and also produces them in the spellbound moment, even if it be in the smallest piece of the harmony of the spheres of the universe, under the roof of the artistic performance from which everything else arises that may be considered human work and action, whose highest would be art as the transmission of our memory. That may mean error and may not even be the nucleus of an atom in the world-clock of the cosmos, but it still has been ventured and is, as such an effort, effective and beautiful and good, even in the suffering lament of its collapse, even if it be in the momentary intoxication of the works which, surviving death, become our history in fathers and children, so long as we remember it, original basis of art, a sign of the homeland, a memory like childhood, not to be betrayed by any future. Whoever starts from here, growing out of this, becomes identical with himself and the world, in spite of all the dangers that the wind of that rootlessness of comfort and speed, of cheap enticements and threats, always bodes.