In the contemporary world, it seems that much of art is realized via a particular malaise - right to left, and upside down. The culture seeks to identify first the monetary value of the artist, instead of seeing their work as an extension of something larger and beyond this life. If one cannot bring some type of monetary value, they are not looked upon favorably. I feel it is a delightful thought experiment to at least question the reason as to why people create beautiful things. Why are we driven to create? Why are we innately drawn to beautiful things?
The origin of creative passion in many artists is a necessity and exists independently of external acknowledgement. This artist’s mission is to create beauty for the sake of beauty; beauty, the undefinable. To myself, I find that often, no matter the terms, I am drawn to create - be it through writing, photographs, or music. In various ways throughout my life, I have continually been reminded that the artist who is not actively creating is existing in their most undesirable state. A dear friend of mine brought these matters to my attention today, giving me the desire to parse out some ideas and, in doing so, more likely than not, leave behind more questions than answers.
The idea of inwardness is often discussed in classical music making. This is where an artist expresses their deepest emotions in the most intensely felt manner, but in a way that does not make their position overly clangorous. This inwardness reflects a state of expression that is laconic in nature, but the intensity of expression is never lessened by a crass attempt to remain stoic. If nothing else, the imbued expression in these “inward” works screams louder and with more vitality than any work of pure showmanship. This being said, our souls do not always, but can spill over… Through art, we profess and find purpose in sharing. When the inner world is just beaming, we are inclined to share our work for no reason other than this.
This spilling over must never become an exercise of the ego - it must be drawn from a pure place. It must never be a deliberate subterfuge of the ego itself. While an artist may find immense personal joy in sharing their hard work, art serves as an independent entity and beautiful attribute of the artist, the conduit of something above all else. The mortal mind may hijack these feelings for validation, and it may become habitual; it is only natural, especially in the young. The distinction here is that these feelings emanate from the radiant inner world of expression. In a case of love, two people cultivate a bond that defies description and share it openly in hopes that others might glimpse this quiet radiance. This brings attention to another point often iterated at my alma mater. A great humanities professor spoke not just about how people are naturally inclined to appreciate and create beautiful things, but how we are naturally drawn to share beauty with others when we see it before our very eyes. Why, upon a great vista, must we take a photo? Why must we turn to our travel companion and ask them if they do in fact see what we do? It is because we are beside ourselves with something we cannot explain. Or, at least, we hope that perhaps our neighbor that we love may see things as we do. These scenes and moments in life touch a part of each of us so deeply. We feel so fervently, but cannot describe why.
The ego is permissible only so that one’s artistic reality may be conveyed as purely as possible in the face of public scrutiny. As soon as the ego grows large enough to disturb the message of the art itself, the art loses much of what it hides. The ego can protect and so equally can it destroy and often, very maliciously, and in radio silence. A photographer finds peace and refuge behind his camera’s viewfinder, and a musician finds it in their interpretation after many hours of contemplation. Both of these arrivals are parsed in solitude, under safe spaces, where thoughts can wander, and convictions can be formed. It is then and only then that an artist can come forth and share something they hold as truth.
The matter of religiosity comes to the fore. While formal religion can be viewed through stigmatic lenses, it is only after the stripping away of these stigmas that the truth attached to denominational religion seems to fizzle. We see what is left behind: raw virtue and truth. Perhaps this is what people mean when they self-identify as “spiritual.” Chief among this framework is the act of devotion. We devote and sacrifice our love to another; we give a part of ourselves. In this talk of art and religion, we must of course mention J.S. Bach, the man from whom all further art was realized. Bach was able to achieve earth-shattering wonder precisely because his devotion gave him an unshakeable point of execution. This man held dear the most real things to him and, by doing so, created music that is as timeless as it is. I have always heard the works of Bach as something beyond the definable in this life, even as a child, and it is for this reason that I concur that there must be some absolutely undefinable intention and truth in his music that is intrinsically felt - the muse from which it was written - that makes these otherwise latent qualities so precisely etched.
One may draw into question (and many classical musicians do ask this): why do we speak of these great composers as deity-like figures? I can say that I do. My most beloved teacher and her husband spoke about the “Gods of Classical Music.” Every time I would hear this from her, I would immediately know the weight and responsibility I carried on my shoulders as an artist. The material with which we grapple is holy, pure, and must be treated with the utmost respect. Every time you sit to practice, you must hold the highest reverence for what it is you are attempting to interpret. Bach saw “God,” his truth, and irrespective of faith, we can feel this unbreakable strength in his music. It absolutely transcends religion. Religion is a human creation, as we call a table a table.
This reverence is what separates true stewardship from validation. There is an immense artistic transformation that unfolds in a person when the focus shifts from self-glory to simply serving as a vessel. By acknowledging an undefinable muse completely beyond the self, whether one calls it God or a nameless item, the ego dissolves. To create, and have the burning desire to do so constantly, may take an earthbound toll in an otherwise tainted life, but what a life it would be without such things. And of course, to let in that which is tainted is to give these things power. If a tree falls in a forest?
If artists accept that the material with which we grapple is holy, then the act of bringing it to life requires an ongoing vulnerability. The leap of faith is not a choice, but an acceptance of a lifelong pursuit. This is why the greatest teachers in this practice do not “retire.” Art is the essence of our entire existence, and it breathes meaning into everything we do.
In a culture hugely crippled by narcissistic greed, by “worshipping” the greats, we protect our only remaining anchor to the sublime. As trite as it may sound, every human being possesses the ability to make a choice - the choice to look within and choose their source of purpose. Some fall victim to the ego and mortal mind and live that out for their bodily days. Truths are incredibly difficult to accept, especially when you believe or are conditioned into something so fervently, but may it stand eternally true these words: we are born as children and die as children. Every amassed asset is a farce, and it will be left behind just as invisible as it was when you were born. We are born integrated, we disintegrate, and we have to reintegrate. How does one play the game without entirely losing themselves? Perhaps an impossibility.
With art, music, and truth. That is our Bible, and this Bible has no terms.
J.W.M.
There are no facts, only interpretations.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Notebooks
Truth is not to be found outside. No teacher, no scripture can give it to you. It is ongoing within you, and if you wish to find it, you must seek it within yourself.
Søren Kierkegaard
We swallow greedily any lie that flatters us, but we sip only a little at a time at a truth we find bitter.
Denis Diderot
The only truth which matters is the truth which is lived and felt inside the soul; all else is mere words, a net to catch the wind.
Alan Watts
Do not look for truth outside yourself; it is only found within the quiet radiance of your own inner world.
Augustine of Hippo