WHY ART MATTERS
If you are anything like me, you find sustenance in the arts. You are nourished by the eloquence of something that was created out of the pure, unadulterated joy of being touched by the alchemy of imagination. You are sympatico with the sources of inspiration; from the sun setting to the fury of thunder, from watching the sea gracefully embrace the shore to storms raging, bending trees till their branches bow towards the ground. You are lifted like fall leaves on gentle breezes by the sound of music; you are moved to sway, to dance your joy and so, art has inspired art. You hear the wind singing its way through the branches of summer trees and watch the elegant movement of water over rocks in a rushing river. You are mesmerized by the call of birds, hidden in the branches of the maple, and the sound your feet make as you walk through deep woods, over last year’s leaves, and branches.
Art is defined as: “the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination…the various branches of creative activity, such as painting, music, literature, and dance.” Art is, it would seem, that part of us that cannot be contained, needing to fly into the world and celebrate the gift of being.
I do not think we choose art; the dancer dances because she must, moving to the sound of the wind or the roar of the ocean because her body commands it. The painter sees a sunset and it burns like a flame inside him until he commits it to paint on canvas. The singer sings melodies written by those who feel music within them demanding to be translated into that which can be heard by others. The poet writes because the words, the feelings, the raw emotion of life demands expression. Art is the most basic of all human communication and, I am fearful of how it will be treated by the future…
Imagine, for a moment if you will, a world where art is not the creation of human imagination, is not fueled by the humanity that lives within us translated into words, into poems, into paintings, into music, into dance. Imagine that, instead of you and I translating that humanity and offering it as our way of saying, “see, how much alike we are, how much in common we have, how we share this gift of living with one another…” an AI machine takes over the responsibility of being the main source of creative activity. I shudder at the thought!
The dictionary defines humanity in the following way” “Humanity is the human race, which includes everyone on Earth. It’s also a word for the qualities that make us human, such as the ability to love and have compassion, be creative, and not be a robot or alien.” Humanity is also defined as being: – “compassionate, sympathetic, or generous in behavior and disposition; the quality or state of being humane…”
If you are reading this newsletter, I am assuming you have some interest in the arts, in poetry. I am assuming that many of you feel the need, within you, to express your creativity, to offer something of yourself through one form or another, of creative expression. If that is so, then you like I, must be trembling at the thought of a world where humanity is translated through the “brain” of artificial intelligence.
In William Shakespeare’s comedy “The Merchant of Venice” the character Shylock speaks the following words: “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” The line is intended as a plea for equal consideration, by Shylock, among his fellow citizens. It is intended to explain the qualities of being human; the ability to feel pain, the ability to feel…
Art, for me, is the highest and most articulate form of communication we have, as humans. It eclipses all other forms of human interaction. Art transforms us, unites us, inspires us, and ultimately, strips us of arrogance and greed, reducing us to the rudiments of a family – a family of beings who share the same origins and are subject to the same inevitable fate. We will live and we will die and art, conceived and created by the human mind and heart, will have made our brief stay on this earth more meaningful, more humane.
Art matters if anything matters. Art matters because it compels us to speak, and to hear, to see and to translate, to feel and communicate in a common language, our shared humanity. Art matters, for if it didn’t, we would be, I fear, something less than human…
ART MATTERS
I do not own the words
the words own me they are the clouds
that stroke the moon the lacey edges
of the oak tracing shadows in the grass
the dew that hangs like tears
off the petals of a rose the snowflake
melting on my tongue the ancient
and the young they are the song
of morning daylight dancing
into day the setting
sun darkness whispering
its way to night
my truth my lies
my fears my smiles the words
a snapshot of my soul
a dirge of sorrow
“I grow old…”
something indestructible
as unadulterated joy
framing memories
in gold
they are
my fingers reaching
for your hand my heartbeat
and my helplessness the way
my lips express
my anger and my love
my prayers that lift me high
above the thunder and
my song
my dance my brushstrokes on the canvas
of my life my gift to you
my gift to me for in the giving
the receiving
of the poem we
become
our shared
humanity
Susan A. Katz (All rights reserved)
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