“This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for rear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.
I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.” — Toni Morrison, The Nation, 2015
That quote comes from an article called “No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear” written by Toni Morrison. I shared the first part of it a few weeks ago. Today I want to give it a deeper look.
What is the place of art in our lives, in our culture? How does it fit into our need for sustenance? What is its value in our communities?
Some may read that quote and feel their hackles rise because they hear it as too political. Art is a form of communication that deals in the real stuff of life: beauty, truth, pain, joy, sorrow, love, even ugliness. If that’s political, it says something about the state of our current political scene, not art. Think of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist, George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, or Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, to barely scratch the surface.
We need the arts. Our lives are impoverished without art. Mine is, and I believe humanity’s writ large is as well. Music soothes the soul, lifts the spirit, moves us to dance, and helps us express grief. I visited the Denver Art Museum a few weeks ago, and while the Sendak special exhibit was the main event, so to speak, wandering through the abstract art galleries was a balm to my soul too. The whole outing lifted me to a higher plane for a few hours.
But isn’t art superficial? It’s not essential to life, is it? Hmm, maybe. . .
Why do the arts matter? Why should we pay for them, either individually or as a culture?
Before it disappears, check out this page from the National Endowment for the Arts. They asked their staffers these same questions and summarized their answers: “The arts matter because they help us to understand how we matter.”
“Art matters because it illustrates the human experience—the wonder of it, the bewilderment of it, the whimsy of it, and so much more. We would not be connected so deeply without the existence of art.” – Kathleen Dinsmore, NEA staffer
And Lord knows, we need to be connected to each other.
For those who want concrete, practical answers, an organization called Americans for the Arts lists these ten reasons that art matters:
Arts strengthen the economy.
Arts drive revenue to local businesses.
Arts unify communities.
Arts strengthen mental health and wellbeing.
Arts and culture are tourism drivers.
Arts improve academic performance.
Arts spark creativity and innovation.
Arts have social impact.
Arts improve healthcare.
Arts for the health and wellbeing of our military.
And yet storytellers, painters, musicians, and actors continue to struggle to make ends meet as they practice their craft. The idea persists among non-artists that doing art, in whatever form, does not have value as work — that it’s not a “real job.” The thought is that you can’t make money writing, painting, or making music.
It’s true that it’s damn hard to do so. But perhaps, and hear me out here, underneath that disparagement of pursuing the arts is an unwillingness to pay for it.
At this point in our history we can stream music and movies for free or mere pennies if we are willing to put up with ads. How often do we stop to think about what the artist is getting paid for their creations? Sadly, it’s a miniscule amount. And if they aren’t well known yet, they often struggle to get any exposure at all.
Creatives have to monetize their work just like everyone else. The only reason people think it can’t pay is because they aren’t willing to pay for it. I’ve been guilty of this myself because, like many, my discretionary income is limited. Yet if we aren’t willing to pay for art, we disparage the value it gives us and the work that went into it. This is not just.
How can we change the situation?
Well, let’s take a look at some things we are willing to pay for. Do you ski? How much does that cost when you consider the lift ticket, the equipment, the gas to drive up the mountain, the time you are giving it? How much does it cost for four people to go to a movie when you consider the tickets, a bucket or two of popcorn, and soft drinks? Do you go to the Broncos or Nuggets games? How much does that cost when you consider the tickets, a hotdog and nachos, and the gas and fighting the traffic to get there?
We make our choices. We prioritize.
Do you know someone who creates visual art? Buy something from them. It might be a print or a greeting card or a ceramic pitcher. Display it. Tell your friends about it. Do you know someone who creates music? Go to their gigs. Buy tickets to their concerts. Invite others to go with you. In the past I’d say buy their records or CDs, but I’m not sure you can even do that anymore. Prioritize handmade gifts from emerging artists.
Art is all around, if we open our senses to it. See it, hear it, touch it — make it. And as you’re able, support artists by paying for it.
I recommend this oldie but a goodie if you’re looking for a good book on the topic: Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, by Madeleine L’Engle.