Yet I’m pretty sure we all can remember the refreshing joy of engaging with the arts. Almost 50 years ago, Canadian-born American writer Saul Bellow observed:
“Only art penetrates what pride, passion, intelligence and habit erect on all sides – the seeming realities of this world. There is another reality, the genuine one, which we lose sight of. This other reality is always sending us hints, which without art, we can’t receive. Proust calls these hints our ‘true impressions’. The true impressions, our persistent intuitions, will, without art, be hidden from us and we will be left with nothing but a ‘terminology for practical ends’ which we falsely call life.”
— Saul Bellow, on science and art from his Nobel lecture in 1976
And this is why artists continue a devotion to creative work. Art presents an opening. Whether the art is expressed as dance, literature, performance, painting, drawing, sculpture, photography, music or cooking, it’s all there ready for the individual to receive.
Some say all art is political or qualifies it as all “good art” (Toni Morrison). If political means relating only to the government and public affairs, I could disagree. If we define “political” to include ideas or strategies, yeah, maybe all art touches political. It tends to be personal. It’s impossible to exempt such statements expressed in the musical “Hamilton” from a political realm. Or how could one exempt Basquiat’s expressions from experience? Both represent ideas and experiences. For sure much of my art work revolves around actions and inactions through personal reflection.
When I was developing our garden (it’s now “naturalizing”) I appreciated the sentiment that “When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden.” The statement is attributed to poet, costume designer and artist Minnie Aumonier (1865-1952) who is often dismissed as a lesser talent in a talented family.
Gardening—being able to be so physical, community-minded, dealing out life and death as a goddess—while incorporating my visual sense was a joy. (As a thwarted filmmaker, I fantasized about its evolution as a movie.) The garden also provided quite a bit of organically grown food for our household. These days I maintain some semblance of enthusiasm for life itself by working in the studio. My visual art work is far from edible, yet aims to satisfy.
Thanks for reading.
Mickey