This essay is part of a continuing meditation on the meaning of the arts.
For my own
part, many motivations join forces to move me to create.
In one sense,
it seems an absolutely essential aspect of my identity as a human being. Making
art is a continuation of the playful explorations of childhood by which we
learn about our world, and ourselves, and our capabilities.
Such play is
a process employed in building our maps of cognitive reality, in exercising and
building intelligence through practical application of what our senses reveal
in conjunction with what our social training requires.
Humans are
wired to create works of art (visual, musical, visceral, muscular, gustatory, literary,
and more) the way birds are wired to build nests. Some might argue that nests serve
a more practical, observably useful purpose than do works of art.
That would
depend on how much we value cognitive maps making sense of our complex world and
how we value the kind of thinking that builds bridges between individuals and
society, between the worlds of the senses and of objective rationality, the
kind of thinking good at finding creative solutions to the plethora of problems
we encounter while living in the material world.
So, one
reason for making art is that I like to explore my sensory experiences in a
playful way. Different artists, obviously, produce different work. Different
media, different tools and materials, different circumstances can all lead the
explorations of a single artist into new and different paths.
Put pen and
ink in my hands and I’ll explore fine dark lines in relation to a blank page. I
may explore them abstractly, looking for patterns inspired by the movement of
my hands to music or in relation to a grid, or by combining variations on the
theme of a single curve. Or I may explore in relation to what I see in the
world around me, reproducing the curves of a face or a tree, a landscape or
cityscape. Or I may explore what my imagination or dreams inspire: drawing a
unicorn, mermaid or gryphon – as informed by reality, but not confined by it.
My explorations may lead me to combine any number of these differing
approaches.
Put crayons
in my hands and I’ll explore the potential of bright colors and thick lines and
the texture of the paper in conjunction with the waxy material. A light hand
shows the texture of rough paper. A heavy hand emphasizes color over texture. Crayon
resists watercolor, which will flow into the gaps the wax fails to cover… Again, I can explore abstractly,
representationally, expressively, surreally or in any combination – but the
results will look very different from those produced with other materials.
Similarly,
explorations in three-dimensional media, or in computer-generated images will
produce very different results according to the potential of their types.
Exploring
across multiple media teaches me to look for and recognize the potential in a
range of differing creative environments. Take away my pen, my pencils, my
crayons, whatever tools I’ve been using – and I will still know how to approach
turning whatever materials are at hand to creative ends.
In another
sense, creative work is about power. The world is vast and complex and almost
entirely beyond my power to affect. Almost. All but this one spot at the point
of my pencil or pen or brush. All but this word, and the next one, and the
next. I have the power to change just so much, and to share what I have done
with – at least some of – the people around me and make it a part of their
experience as well as mine. In turn, I can see and hear and feel the changes
they make. Together we create a culture of shared experiences. We create
civilization by sharing our creative experiences and our understandings in this
way.
In that
sense, creative work is about relationships.
Art builds bridges between individuals and society. No two individuals
see the world from the same position at the same time. If you want someone else
to see things your way, you need to reproduce what you see in a form you can
share. This has gotten a lot easier since the invention of photography, and
even the best photograph loses something in translation.
The potential
for seeing the world through the eyes of others – that’s huge. Like hearing the
music born of another heart and recognizing one’s own passions there. We lead
different lives, separate lives – as becomes only too clear in times of pain or
suffering. However much we sympathize, we do not feel the same pain as the
individual who has been injured or suffered a loss. You don’t feel my aching
toes, courting frostbite as I walk home through sub-zero weather from a bus
stop. I don’t feel your stubbed toe or mashed finger or your craving for that
next cig or drink or whatever it is you may be craving.
But an
evocative description or representation can remind me of my own pains and needs
and I can understand that what you have experienced is similar enough to
warrant my sympathy. The arts give us tools for recognizing the validity in one
another’s individual experiences; they create a bridge between subjective
experiences and objectively verifiable reality.
Art also
builds bridges between the internal worlds of the senses and a more objective
rationality. The left hand may not know what the right hand is doing. I may not
know how to put what I’m feeling into terms that anyone else could understand,
but an abstract expressionist painting could get the idea across, not only to
others who might see it, but to my own distracted, abstracted conscious ego.
Different
artistic approaches reach different audiences. No one work will reach everyone.
The deaf will not appreciate your music. The blind will not appreciate any of
my visual works or approaches. No one will relate to every possible work from
every possible artist. Our choices, our differences in these ways help to
define us as individuals and to define cultures and sub-cultures and fan groups
and marketing niches. It’s all very frustrating and wonderful and confusing and
amazing.
1 comments:
Naomi, what an interesting post. I especially like the blue painting with winged horses. Who painted it? You? It's fantastic. I'd like to add it to my Pinterest Fantasy board but I need to know the artist's name. And a bigger file, if possible.
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