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In biology, convergence refers to the phenomenon of unrelated plants and animals developing superficially similar features in comparable environmental conditions. For instance, echolocation in animals of both sky and sea, or the similarly streamlined bodies of aquatic birds, fish, and mammals. These traits don't suggest a particular commonality between the creatures themselves, but rather reflect the forces, seen and unseen, of their environment upon them.
When Lawrence Weschler, in his book "Everything that Rises: A Book of Convergences," points out the echo of Rembrant's "The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicholaes Tulp" in Freddy Alborta's famous photograph of Che Guavera's death, he's not implying that Alborta knowingly referenced the Dutch Master any more than he'd suggest that a duck, inspired by a dolphin's elegance, could suddenly become a penguin. However, an artistic coincidence such as this surely merits further examination, which is precisely the cause taken up by Weschler's book. Just as the meme is the cultural analog of biology's gene, these cultural convergences parallel the natural commonalities between the branches of dendrites, rivers, and trees, or the waves of the sea, sound, and our brains. Weschler steadies his aim on the intricate aggregate of unseen forces that gently shape human culture.
After reading an article by John Berger which initially drew attention to the Alborta/Rembrandt likeness, Weschler developed an increasing awareness of such convergences, especially in the visual art world, and began collecting them like stamps. "Everything that Rises" is his display case. He shows off a stunning series of essays that focus on these strange little moments when bits of culture overlap, reverberate, and feedback upon themselves. His personal narratives often unfold like murder mysteries, with excerpts from The Iliad and ancient clay tablets popping up as clues while we wait on edge to discover how it'll all tie together in the end.As with most seemingly bizarre coincidences of daily life, these convergences do benefit from the deliberate focus on the pieces of the puzzle that fit snugly, and the disregard of those that don't. Fortunately, much of the beauty in what Weschler does lies curiously in the fact that there is no central thesis. He sets out to prove nothing. The aim is merely to revel in the wonderment of it all. And what emerges is absolutely brilliant. These convergences strike at something deeply satisfying. Comforting. A strange kind of faith in the underlying order of artistry and perception. A thread that ties human culture and experience together. It's a very specific and profound version of beauty.
And ultimately, even if there is nothing more to be gleaned from these seemingly stochastic observations than a simple amused smile, this should by no means be undervalued. Delighting in such marvels is nothing short of training ourselves to find the beauty in the quotidian, to absorb life as fully as possible rather than letting it quietly pass us by. This is a sentiment which can surely be appreciated by anyone who's ever paused to cherish the cherry aroma of a nice glass of pinot. And then, rather than wonder what it all means that we might transform the humble grape into this endlessly complex repository of art and culture, we simply touch the glass to our lips, and drink it in.
