In Celebration of Mediocre Art
In my pre-college years, art class was always the best time of the day. I was blessed to have some incredible teachers and access to all sorts of media. We had a robust ceramics program, which was certainly one of my favorites. I even took AP Art my senior year. Though I can’t say I ever made anything of much value, it was always my favorite class to attend. There was something about the camaraderie that art class inspires that stood out to me. We could laugh, we could explore, we were able to dedicate a time to making something of our own rather than be force-fed a lecture. My art class friends were all incredibly talented. Many of them went on to pursue their own artistic careers. I didn’t feel that I wasn’t cut out for that path, and scoring a 1 out of 5 on my AP Art exam certainly didn’t give me much confidence.
So, I went to college and chose practicality. I graduated, entered the job market, and chose financial stability at the expense of artistic endeavors. Now, after 9 years in a corporate field, I realize that I have been seeing the world in two categories: the practical people and the artists. And perhaps I’d even been dividing up artists into two sub categories - those who are “good” and those who aren’t and really should find something more practical to do with their lives. Now I am seeing how greatly I’ve been mistaken. I’m now learning that art is something that every human both can and should create. Additionally, art is something that we as a collective species need to share in order to better understand the human experience. Let me define art, here. When I say “art” I mean any form of artistic expression: visual, music, dance, writing, photography, etc. Anything that is a creative output into the world, truly.
Art is something that is vital to documenting the human experience and it isn’t limited to the “artists.” There are more tools than ever imagined to create something - and the fact that we as humans can use these tools to make something that resonates should be celebrated and encouraged. As someone who has enjoyed making art, but always thought of myself as a pretty mediocre artist, I am here to say that I think art is something that every human can (and should) create. No matter the quality or perception of it. There is value in every creative output - whether it’s a doodle in the margins or a 2-story mural - it’s a small piece in the larger representation of humankind.
Creative endeavors are critical in our culture that glorifies consumption at every turn. As I’ve begun to write out these feelings and pour into my own creative outlets, I’ve found it cathartic and satisfying to sit down and make something rather than just continue to consume. Taking my eyes off of Netflix or Instagram and writing my own story - pulling in everything that has inspired me to make something myself has been exciting and fulfilling. I’ve found that the vessel of ideas only has gotten deeper the more I’ve tapped into it.
Art is inherently reliant on sharing because it can’t do its full function without some sort of connection. I was pondering this idea as I attended a concert earlier this summer. A band was playing that I’ve loved for the majority of my life at this point. It’s a band I’ve cried to, spent precious hours listening to, and feel a very special connection to. Sometimes when I go to shows for bands I feel so close to, I think about how no one could love the band more than me. Like entering the concert venue is a sort of competition to demonstrate who loves the music more, who has been impacted more in their life by so-and-so’s songs. But then I thought, wait, I’m able to see this incredible band in my small city. I don’t live in New York anymore where it’s a given I’ll be able to see any artist I want. It’s impressive when an internationally recognized musical act is playing 15-minutes from my house. I realized I should be thanking my fellow concert goers! It’s because of all of us that this band is even here right now! It’s because of us that these talented musicians have felt supported to continue making music, going on tour, and sharing their experience.
But the importance of sharing also applies to art that maybe hasn’t grown a major audience. I’m talking about the art some might consider unremarkable, vanilla, nothing to write home about. Before you roll your eyes (talking to myself as well here) at something someone else created, take a beat. Think about the larger human element, the need to share and connect. One could argue that all “content” is really a creative output meant to find connection. I’m not saying we need to be inspired by - or even like - every piece of creative expression that comes our way. But someone else out there will feel differently - and if that inspires something beautiful, then more power to it.
So we have established the importance of all humans making and sharing art. But what about the reason behind it? In our economy, art needs to make money to be worth our time. Perhaps this is because it’s difficult to put a price on the feeling you get when you resonate with something. Instead, the value often comes from how many people you can impact, how many tickets you can sell, what price your painting will auction for, etc. This outlook deters people from becoming artists, because truly committing to the craft means you will almost certainly live a less lavish lifestyle than those who give all their time and effort to making money. I have always been so impressed when I meet people who are brave enough to take the path of the artist.
I do want to note that I don’t think it’s bad to not go the practical path. This isn’t good versus evil, as much as one of my college English professors might beg to differ - calling me “the devil” for majoring in PR. The money making people are absolutely needed. Much of the art we consider great wouldn’t exist without wealthy supporters commissioning it. Michelangelo and the Roman Catholic Church, for example. There are ways for people of all income levels and backgrounds to fit into this mix.
“Selling out” isn’t something to be frowned upon, either, because art isn’t meant to exist in a vacuum. It doesn’t have more value because it was created by someone who couldn’t afford to go out to dinner. Call me idealistic, but I think we as a collective could do more to support artists around us, to encourage them to express what they so deeply feel they need to express. And it doesn’t have to be at the expense of their health and well-being.
So, in conclusion, I’ve been trying to think about how I can better encourage the artists (and even friends who don’t consider themselves artists) around me to make their own creative output. We all have people around us who are making and doing beautiful things - I encourage you to seek out more ways to support them if you have the means. I’ll do the same and let’s touch back on this to see what we’ve all learned as a result of it.
What I’m Loving This Week:
Food: I made a quick(er) version of Molly Baz’s minty lamb meatballs this week, a recipe I always enjoy from Cook This Book.
Drink: I was hoping to be enjoying Ameztoi Rubentis rosé with some girlfriends on our upcoming beach weekend. I hope I’ll be able to pick up a bottle locally as my Brooklyn delivery has fallen through. *sad face*
Watch: I finally saw the Barbie movie and loved every single second of it. I know Barbie has taken over the zeitgeist and you may have not been looking for any more reason to see it, but I loved it.
Listen: Younger and Dumber - Indigo De Souza. I had the opportunity to see Indigo De Souza last weekend for AVL Fest and it was probably one of the best shows of the entire weekend. This song has been particularly striking to me. We all were “younger and dumber” at one point.
Read: Inciting Joy - Ross Gay. This book is absolutely incredible. I’ve had a few folks recommend it and I’m thoroughly enjoying diving in. Much of Ross Gay’s arguments here resonate with me and I’m sure I’ll be referencing a quote (or several) in future posts.
This weekend I’ll be beaching it up with some of my favorite people. Enjoy your weekend, all, and thank you so much for reading.