I have a friend who insists that I am an artist.
I never ever considered myself to be so for any number of reasons, and today i thought I'd say a few words about that.
I have heard many definitions of "Art" and i guess that my current favourites are, and in no particular order, "An Artist is one who knows where to draw the line." "Art is what you can get away with." and "Art is the ability to move people."
Now let me examine those three statements critically. I never know where to draw the line. Oh I can draw lines and make the occasional pretty picture, but those images that I produce bear no resemblance to anything in particular, and to me are random doodles that emerge from somewhere deep inside my troubled brain.
Do I get away with my work? Well maybe i do. Some people, the very few who have ever seen my stuff, say that they like it. But friends always say that. That is what friends are for, to boost your ego and give you confidence in yourself.
Moving people?? now there is a serious issue. I have heard it argued that if something can produce an emotional response of any kind then it can be called art! Well i make no claims to have ever produced an emotional response in anyone from any painting that I have ever produced. Some paintings and sculptures that I have seen make me angry, so I guess that makes them valid. One such painter is Mark Rothko. Now i know that this is a very subjective viewpoint, but I have seen a number of Rothko paintings in the flesh and frankly, to me they are just large canvases covered in blocks of colour that are not even well painted. I have seen others standing in awe in front of Rothko's works and I just find it amazing that so many people are conned by what they have been told is good art.
I enjoy the paintings of many artists, ranging from Leonardo and Botticelli, to the Pre Rapahelites, Dali, Magritte and many others. I can see the skills and the brilliance of the pictures that they paint, but to say that they move me emotionally would be stretching a point. Maybe it is a fault in me, and maybe that is why I always fail to produce on canvas what I see in my head, but I cannot get emotional about a painting.
What does touch me deeply however is music, and I am very subject to the minor key particularly. Music has the power to lift my spirits to amazing heights, and also to take me into the depths of despair. To me the ultimate art has to be Opera, where so many "arts" are brought together into a package that stimulates our senses and probes every aspect of our emotions.
Even a simple song can move me to tears. The other day, Holly sent me a song that she had recorded. She moves through the fair is an old traditional song, and like everything she does, she made it her own. I listened, spellbound by her interpretation, and although that song has no particular connotation, she brought tears to my eyes. That is art.
1 comment:
"There is geometry in the humming of the strings
... there is music in the spacing of the spheres." .. Pythagoras
Music is older than words.... it is what we responded to long before language evolved. It is no wonder it 'strikes a chord' with almost everyone's emotions. It is also the quickest way of transporting us back to a time and place in our past. Only the sense of smell can transport me more quickly.
Poetry is the art that moves me.....
Place ordinary words in the correct order and they take on a life of their own and become very personal, and very moving.
I often express my thoughts through poems when simple words are not enough. I scribble these poems down on bits of paper and then secrete them somewhere to call upon them when I need them! lol Writing them, to me, is therapy but most are only ever seen by me.
One poem in particular by W B Yeats never ceases to move me, no matter how many times I read it. It seems to echo certain times in my life. It creates both a visual and an emotional image in my mind:-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
:-)
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