Art and words
13/06/16 04:36
The Black Hills Chamber Music Society held a festival in our church yesterday. The event featured four one-hour concerts, offered back to back. There was a different musical act for each hour: 1 pm, 2pm, 3pm and 4pm. They were focused on local musicians and it is always delightful to realize how much talent we have in our community. This is not a review of the event, but rather a comment about artists in general.
The amount of music in a one-hour set varies greatly. Part of the variation, I’m sure, has to do with the nature of individual instruments, but it was interesting to me how some of the musicians performed their music virtually without comment and others filled their time with commentary, introducing the individual numbers, talking about composers and the history of the particular music being presented.
I’ve noticed that the tendency to provide commentary about art is not reserved to musicians. I know visual artists who love to talk about their work. I once attended a gallery opening that featured several different artists. One artist thanked us for attending and said that she hoped we found her work to be meaningful. Another spoke for over a half hour about the emotional context of the various paintings presented.
The same occurs in my profession. There are preachers who are pleased to offer a prayer or devotion when asked. There are others who feel compelled to provide commentary with their offerings. Preachers, in general, seem to like to talk and it is always a risk to ask one to make a brief presentation. 2 minutes stretch easily into 5 and 20 into an hour.
Some people, when given a microphone and an audience, can’t resist going on and on.
Some artists seem comfortable trusting the power of their art to speak for itself. Others feel that it needs explaining.
I’m not much of an artist, really. I dabble at the trumpet and guitar and I sing with a choir from time to time. I take a few photographs and occasionally find one that is meaningful. But I don’t consider myself to be an artist. If I do have a gift for performance I guess it lies in storytelling. I enjoy telling stories.
I do, however, appreciate music and art. I enjoy concerts and performances. I am happy to be an audience member at concerts of many different genres of music. I enjoy taking time to stroll through a gallery and spend time with the art on display. I appreciate fine photography when I have an opportunity to see it displayed. I enjoy living in a community with an appreciation for art and a large variety of different public sculpture and outdoor art.
I appreciate learning about the history of art as well. I’ve read a number of books about various genres and eras of artistic expression. I’m interested in the interplay of the visual and performing arts. In the late 19th and early 20th Centuries Western classical music was deeply influenced by the art of Manet, Pissaro, Degas, Monet and Renoir. Both the music and the visual arts of the time reached beyond simply recreating the sights and sounds of nature, but rather using their media to influence the emotions of their audiences.
A similar interplay between art and music has been present in other eras as well.
Another topic that interests me is the role of the church as patron of the arts. The deep connection between religious imagination and the arts is visible in the architecture of religious buildings, in the art displayed in our churches and in the music that we use in worship.
As an academic discipline, art is a fascinating topic. I’m sure that I have much to learn.
However, I confess that artists who don’t seem to trust their art put me off. They seem to need to explain their art, present their art and then explain it again. Frankly, I’d prefer to simply experience the art and reserve judgment.
As I listened to the performances yesterday, I was happy just to listen to the music. I found myself to be a bit annoyed by the words and explanations. Perhaps I just wasn’t in the mood for more instruction on a hot Sunday afternoon. Perhaps I had different expectations of the artists than they brought to the event.
I’m sure, however, that there was value in the commentary that was offered. There were probably audience members who appreciated the words that were offered. It may have just been my mood of the day. After all, I frequently offer commentary on my blog. There are plenty of bloggers who are content to tell a story, present an opinion and offer a few words. I am continually going on and on about the process of writing and offering extensive commentary on my work. The very thing that I am quick to criticize in others is something of which I am guilty myself.
In the scheme of things we will probably do what previous generations have done: leave it to history to sort out the art from the fluff, the music from the noise and the literature from the scribbling. A relatively small percentage of what we do has real lasting value.
Once in a while, however, a few great sounds, a few great images, and a few great words will touch us in deep ways that we can recognize. When we experience common meaning in the great works of art we know that our lives have been transformed.
This morning, after the songs have been played and sung, after the artists and audience have gone home, what remains is the memory of an afternoon of shared music. It takes its place among many other memories of other afternoons in a lifetime of listening to concerts and sitting with art. In the end what we have left are the memories. And then, before long our memories fade as well.
Still, some music does become classic. It lasts beyond the span of the artists who initially created it. It is revived in the music of future generations who play music that was composed centuries before they were born. And that is enough.
Perhaps it is as much of immortality as we could expect . . . or bear.
The amount of music in a one-hour set varies greatly. Part of the variation, I’m sure, has to do with the nature of individual instruments, but it was interesting to me how some of the musicians performed their music virtually without comment and others filled their time with commentary, introducing the individual numbers, talking about composers and the history of the particular music being presented.
I’ve noticed that the tendency to provide commentary about art is not reserved to musicians. I know visual artists who love to talk about their work. I once attended a gallery opening that featured several different artists. One artist thanked us for attending and said that she hoped we found her work to be meaningful. Another spoke for over a half hour about the emotional context of the various paintings presented.
The same occurs in my profession. There are preachers who are pleased to offer a prayer or devotion when asked. There are others who feel compelled to provide commentary with their offerings. Preachers, in general, seem to like to talk and it is always a risk to ask one to make a brief presentation. 2 minutes stretch easily into 5 and 20 into an hour.
Some people, when given a microphone and an audience, can’t resist going on and on.
Some artists seem comfortable trusting the power of their art to speak for itself. Others feel that it needs explaining.
I’m not much of an artist, really. I dabble at the trumpet and guitar and I sing with a choir from time to time. I take a few photographs and occasionally find one that is meaningful. But I don’t consider myself to be an artist. If I do have a gift for performance I guess it lies in storytelling. I enjoy telling stories.
I do, however, appreciate music and art. I enjoy concerts and performances. I am happy to be an audience member at concerts of many different genres of music. I enjoy taking time to stroll through a gallery and spend time with the art on display. I appreciate fine photography when I have an opportunity to see it displayed. I enjoy living in a community with an appreciation for art and a large variety of different public sculpture and outdoor art.
I appreciate learning about the history of art as well. I’ve read a number of books about various genres and eras of artistic expression. I’m interested in the interplay of the visual and performing arts. In the late 19th and early 20th Centuries Western classical music was deeply influenced by the art of Manet, Pissaro, Degas, Monet and Renoir. Both the music and the visual arts of the time reached beyond simply recreating the sights and sounds of nature, but rather using their media to influence the emotions of their audiences.
A similar interplay between art and music has been present in other eras as well.
Another topic that interests me is the role of the church as patron of the arts. The deep connection between religious imagination and the arts is visible in the architecture of religious buildings, in the art displayed in our churches and in the music that we use in worship.
As an academic discipline, art is a fascinating topic. I’m sure that I have much to learn.
However, I confess that artists who don’t seem to trust their art put me off. They seem to need to explain their art, present their art and then explain it again. Frankly, I’d prefer to simply experience the art and reserve judgment.
As I listened to the performances yesterday, I was happy just to listen to the music. I found myself to be a bit annoyed by the words and explanations. Perhaps I just wasn’t in the mood for more instruction on a hot Sunday afternoon. Perhaps I had different expectations of the artists than they brought to the event.
I’m sure, however, that there was value in the commentary that was offered. There were probably audience members who appreciated the words that were offered. It may have just been my mood of the day. After all, I frequently offer commentary on my blog. There are plenty of bloggers who are content to tell a story, present an opinion and offer a few words. I am continually going on and on about the process of writing and offering extensive commentary on my work. The very thing that I am quick to criticize in others is something of which I am guilty myself.
In the scheme of things we will probably do what previous generations have done: leave it to history to sort out the art from the fluff, the music from the noise and the literature from the scribbling. A relatively small percentage of what we do has real lasting value.
Once in a while, however, a few great sounds, a few great images, and a few great words will touch us in deep ways that we can recognize. When we experience common meaning in the great works of art we know that our lives have been transformed.
This morning, after the songs have been played and sung, after the artists and audience have gone home, what remains is the memory of an afternoon of shared music. It takes its place among many other memories of other afternoons in a lifetime of listening to concerts and sitting with art. In the end what we have left are the memories. And then, before long our memories fade as well.
Still, some music does become classic. It lasts beyond the span of the artists who initially created it. It is revived in the music of future generations who play music that was composed centuries before they were born. And that is enough.
Perhaps it is as much of immortality as we could expect . . . or bear.