Mind Olympics

The Ancient Olympics were a breathtaking spectacle. Descriptions of the idea alone invoke awe.

Dating back to 776 BC, they ran for almost a thousand years until around 400AD when the Romans decided it was too pagan, so they axed it.

The modern Olympics we know today were resurrected from ancient lore by a French man named Pierre de Coubertin. Ostensibly inspired during a stint at the Rugby School in England, where he studied physical education, just over a decade later in 1896 the first international Modern Olympics was held in Greece.

That’s all well and good, but the interesting part of this story is that Coubertin’s vision for the Olympics wasn’t solely a physical affair. The original Olympics were a display of the brilliance of the body and the mind. The ancient games included medals for disciplines including trumpeting and rhetoric.

In that vein, Coubertin envisaged the modern Olympics as a blend of sport and art. And he was determined to make it a reality.

Early Doors

A classically educated man, and the son of an aristocratic painter, he was fixated on the notion of being a true Olympian. Even though initial fanfare was lukewarm and funding was tricky, by Stockholm’s 1912 games his hopes were realised and arts were included in the Olympics. They spanned five categories: painting, architecture, literature, sculpture and music.

The caveat: every work had to be somehow inspired by the concept of sport.

Momentum began to build after a slow start. In 1924 in Paris, 193 artists participated. By 1928, over 1100 items were exhibited. But the snowballing popularity was set to melt into obscurity.

The obvious difficulty in the conversation is the subjectivity of art. The host country was to assemble a panel of judges to crown the winners of the artistic endeavours. This naturally brought with it an issue of bias, too. But, all that said, sports like equestrian, snowboarding and figure skating (to name a few) inherently contain issues with judge bias to this day.

Another issue was professionalism. The spirit of the Olympics, as decided by aristocratic individuals with large amounts of money and time, was for non-professionals to compete. Again, in the world of art, this raised issues. But it didn’t prevent individuals we still know today from participating.

Overlooked

Landowski, who created Christ the Redeemer; Kandinsky, now known globally for his abstract expressionism; and John Russell Pope who created the Jefferson Memorial, all won Olympic medals for their work.

So much of the work has been lost and ultimately disregarded from the history books as if it were somehow a stain on the Olympic legacy. The 151 total medals were struck from the record.

This is a monumental shame, given the innate desire so many of us have to possess a creative flair outside of physical performance. The encouragement and competition involved whereby a global audience could marvel at the ways we move our minds, just as we move our bodies, would be a welcome addition to the global calendar.

The Final Nail

After an eight-year hiatus throughout WW2, the games returned in London, in 1948, with a new president: the American Avery Brundage. He was obsessed with absolute amateurism, wanting no Olympic participant to be influenced by money. Given that artists made money from their work, and the games could serve as an advertisement, Brundage was dead set on the removal of the disciplines from the games.

The fact he himself had entered a piece of literature in the 1932 games and didn’t win a medal likely held no significance…

Those 1948 games would mark the final time anyone received an Olympic medal for artistic prowess.

Though games since 1948 have contained a Cultural Olympiad where art is included – Paris, this year, includes over 1600 projects – it’s unquestionable that they’re an afterthought in the grand scheme of things.

Too Little, Too Late

Even if the arts were to return to the games, it’s too late for anyone to treat it with the respect it once had. We just don’t view things in the same way any more.

It feels strange to consider how different, if at all, our perception of art and competition may have changed if we grew up with a globally recognised platform where art could be pitted against other art, in the same light as the Olympics.

As culture has retreated into the realm of snobbishness, over a harmonious connection between mind and body as was initially intended, the chasm between art and physicality has broadened to the point of disconnection.

Nuanced activities entail performance just as much as binary winners and losers. It’d serve us well to recognise that.