Art, I think, is a universal human need. It's a way for us both to express ourselves and to connect with others. A way to add beauty - and sometimes meaning - to our lives.
I think art is a universal language, but sometimes, I, for one, need a translator. As they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Just look at fashion. A designer may create an outfit that to some people or at some time in history is considered a work of art. To other people in another era, it just looks silly. Translation needed.
Art and music, too, might speak to me at one stage of my life, but not another. Some art grows on you. The more you see or hear or experience it, the more it is understandable, sort of like a language immersion program.
Once I went to a Dave Brubeck concert, which I had anticipated for weeks. I like jazz (or at least the jazz I'd heard), and I knew Dave Brubeck was considered to be very good. The concert was a huge disappointment. The entire evening was dissodent. To my ear, the music was loud and jarring. I neither liked nor appreciated it. Perhaps if I'd had technical training or a pre-concert prep, I would have appreciated what the musicians were doing. I dont' know that I would have liked it any better, but I could have appreciated the interplay. Translation needed.
The only art that never seems to need a translation, art that speaks to people regardless of culture or life experience, is art that reflects the basic human experience. In the clip in the introduction, we saw and heard sorrow and joy around the world. Birth, love, grief, elation, death are experiences that are universal. Art that in some way taps into that shared global experience speaks to everyone.
One of the most moving pieces of art I've ever seen was in Florence. It was a long time ago, and I don't remember the name of the piece. It was a statue of Mary Magdalene with her hands almost in prayer, but just a fraction of an inch apart. She had such an expression of despair on her face. It was as if for all eternity, she never could quite make things right. Her hands were sculpted, so they never would be joined, so she could never say the perfect prayer. As I stood in front of her, I felt tears filling my eyes. Her pain was palpable.
At some time in our lives, I think we all have a situation that we never can make quite right. Ever. And art that captures a basic human need, a deeply felt emotion needs no translation.
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2 comments:
Gina, there are many forms of art that hit me the way the dissonant Brubeck hit you, and so I understand the feeling of seeing/sensing that something is indeed art but also being repelled by it for some reason. Other art just does not attract me (opera, for instance) but I can tell it is a highly worked out system of very complex signs and symbols and meanings, and I know people who are moved to great depths by opera. Aesthetic taste is a very complicated thing, and I think the best we can do at times is just try to analyze our own, and trust that it is OK for it to be different from others.
Hi Gina! I just loved how you said, "And art that captures a basic human need, a deeply felt emotion needs no translation." Well put! Human facial emotion crosses all borders and I think of your statue experience, The Scream painting, the opera version of Mozart's Requiem...all artistic expressions similar and yet so different at the same time but the viewer indeed feels the anguish, the sadness being expressed across the mediums.
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