"you will probably never be able to fully survive off of your art, but you’re looked down on if you have a day job to pay your bills. Your education system has slashed public arts funding and education, so even if you manage to produce something publicly, few people outside of the rich have been taught how to engage with it, and you’ll be labeled as pretentious and elitist."
As a working-class artist, I feel this tension constantly. When I try to talk to people about why art matters, and how fiber arts matter, I'm often met with blank stares, why would anyone pay more when you can get something similar at TJ Maxx? They can't see past this question no matter the story and context behind a piece.
What really haunts me: How can "we" really be "okay" with a world where the only beauty we're offered is mass-produced, stamped out for maximum efficiency and minimum cost?
One of the most profound experiences of my life occurred in 1993, standing before and circumambulating around the Constellations of Joan Miro. It was truly the first time all 23 were hung together, in chronological order. I believe that profound aesthetic experiences are on the spectrum of numinous experiences. Really great art has Presence and I felt it. In that room at the Museum of Modern Art, I was transiently moved into the Realm of Essence. Great art captures something ineffable.
Over the years since then, I have collected most of the hand stenciled reproductions that hang in my home. Not because I think I can re-create that experience but because they serve as a constant reminder of that experience. More than 30 years later, I have written a paper, trying to best express that which is inexpressible. It is titled: Beauty, Truth and Wholeness in The Constellations of Miro.
Creativity, crafting, music, literature, and art has always been major parts of my world although I am the furthest from a nepo baby ever! You are ever so correct; the impulse to create is intrinsic to human beings. I have art on my walls, books all over the place, and memories of so much music from the 60s and early 70s. Knitting, decoupage, and other crafts are so enjoyable. I know arts are not "necessary" for survival in the most basic and dire sense. We send food, water, tents, etc. into destroyed areas. We don't send books and paintings there. Yet, a world without art is gray. All color is drained from it. Everything feels meh. Ultimately, once those basic needs are met, there will be the urge to decorate to create, whether it be ceramic pots or crocheted blankets. And eventually the books and the canvases will come. Because we NEED the arts to grow and flourish. Thank you for this essay.
"you will probably never be able to fully survive off of your art, but you’re looked down on if you have a day job to pay your bills. Your education system has slashed public arts funding and education, so even if you manage to produce something publicly, few people outside of the rich have been taught how to engage with it, and you’ll be labeled as pretentious and elitist."
As a working-class artist, I feel this tension constantly. When I try to talk to people about why art matters, and how fiber arts matter, I'm often met with blank stares, why would anyone pay more when you can get something similar at TJ Maxx? They can't see past this question no matter the story and context behind a piece.
What really haunts me: How can "we" really be "okay" with a world where the only beauty we're offered is mass-produced, stamped out for maximum efficiency and minimum cost?
One of the most profound experiences of my life occurred in 1993, standing before and circumambulating around the Constellations of Joan Miro. It was truly the first time all 23 were hung together, in chronological order. I believe that profound aesthetic experiences are on the spectrum of numinous experiences. Really great art has Presence and I felt it. In that room at the Museum of Modern Art, I was transiently moved into the Realm of Essence. Great art captures something ineffable.
Over the years since then, I have collected most of the hand stenciled reproductions that hang in my home. Not because I think I can re-create that experience but because they serve as a constant reminder of that experience. More than 30 years later, I have written a paper, trying to best express that which is inexpressible. It is titled: Beauty, Truth and Wholeness in The Constellations of Miro.
Creativity, crafting, music, literature, and art has always been major parts of my world although I am the furthest from a nepo baby ever! You are ever so correct; the impulse to create is intrinsic to human beings. I have art on my walls, books all over the place, and memories of so much music from the 60s and early 70s. Knitting, decoupage, and other crafts are so enjoyable. I know arts are not "necessary" for survival in the most basic and dire sense. We send food, water, tents, etc. into destroyed areas. We don't send books and paintings there. Yet, a world without art is gray. All color is drained from it. Everything feels meh. Ultimately, once those basic needs are met, there will be the urge to decorate to create, whether it be ceramic pots or crocheted blankets. And eventually the books and the canvases will come. Because we NEED the arts to grow and flourish. Thank you for this essay.