I recently came across a film titled Exhibiting Forgiveness and thought to myself, “What does art mean?” I remember back in my undergraduate days I took an art history course and dove full force into wrapping my mind around the complexities of the art world. But still remained: what is art? I’m on quest to find out, seeking understanding in so much ambiguity.
As I may have mentioned, my experience with the art world is limited. It is a world segregated by socioeconomic class lines; of pretention and wealth; and cultures imbuing meaning. After all, we are human. But it is also many more things. Things that cannot be articulated. Things and meaning that transcend the world of understanding — language.
Artistic expression, to me, has always been about message. The intent, the aim, the motive and inspiration that compelled the artist to create in such and such manner. What end is the piece, the very expression of meaning, trying to reach. In that sense, beauty is not in the eyes of the beholder. My take. Perhaps backed by the historical development of art in the Western world, perhaps just me opining on things I ought to keep my mouth shut about.
Art is a vessel to transmit ideas. For better or worse it always comes from somewhere, seeking to arrive at a someplace. It is used to unify social movements, sow division, validate individuality, and above all communicate a message.
The interpretive element of appreciating art gets tricky. I myself don’t have a well-read and informed perspective on the history of the art world. Some would say I shouldn’t even be speaking on it. But I pick up on messages, values, ideas being expressed with specific ends in mind. When a piece truly moves you, you know you’ve encountered something special in this world. And I don’t discount that. The deep appreciation felt, the sentiment, the connection, all work to move a viewer. This is action, intellectually, spiritually, materially. There’s meaning in that to be drawn from what you’re engaging. It serves a particular purpose, and when you connect with the compulsion to create that the artist felt, when the “something” is greater than the “one” there’s real power there.
I don’t mean to say that all art is political. Most certainly, however, a lot of it is. My take; participation in society, reaping its benefits and existing in modern civilization forces individuals to make political decisions simply to survive. Choosing to shop at such and such store as opposed to the other, political. Talking pleasantries with a stranger in a coffee shop, political. Even the very food you choose to consume is a political act; supporting corporate agriculture or buying local, for example. From this view, it’s easy to see the agenda associated with the presentation of an idea to someone. It is never absolute, but instead is coming from a “somewhere.” It’s a stark, bleak reality we live in. People weaponizing intent to achieve selfish ends. Today, in our social structure, someone is always vying for a piece of the pie. Yet it doesn’t have to be this way.
Art is often looked at as being the ultimate expression of individuality. I see it differently. No idea is new, just recycled in different form. Sure, expression has a purpose, often a healthy one. But it is not immune to the milieu of it’s time.
I am an active advocate for creative expression, though. It may not appear that at first glance. Get out there and create, share your ideas with the world; they’re valuable, revolutionary even. And there’s power in that, even if its purpose is simply an outlet for the creator. Create. Share. Exhibit.
But what I see so often is an intent to create to monetize. Disheartening. I write for myself, but I also write to be read. My medium is the page, of the possibility to use words to go in whichever direction I choose. My wife, she is talented with watercolor, with bricolage, with acrylic, and many others. She is very creative and this is one of the many reasons I love her. Her ability to create art for art’s sake is beautiful, something I appreciate more than she will ever know. Money is a corrupting influence on the mind. It so often becomes a fetish. Creating something beautiful ought to be shared, ought to be shielded from the extraction of value of the commodity, of being turned into a commodity, even, in itself. Things can stand on their own, it just takes a belief in the power to connect. There’s hope in that. As my spouse embodies, the conviction and connection with oneself flows into others through expression. It’s the legitimation of your human experience.
Get out, create, and share. In an otherwise meaningless world, it’s our construction of meaning that makes life worth living.
-Jake




