Loving Art

Recently I was asked if I loved art and I’ve been mulling over this question for nearly a week. First indecisiveness over Obama and Clinton and now this. Perhaps I wouldn’t make a great surgeon after all.

Sure, the question is bit undefined (okay, maybe more than a bit). What is art? Though, there’s a million answers to that one, I’m going with the answer from that skit on the The State—after spending a good deal of time introducing a dozen highly acclaimed artists and art critics, the host asks “what is art?” to which one critic responds “like, paintings and stuff” and ends the show.

And then there’s the even harder question of love? I had an argument a year ago with a girl who claimed she didn’t like water. “Who likes water?” she asked. “I LOVE water!” I insisted.

So, let’s talk about like versus love. I would say I like something when it simply pleases me with its presence. I would say I love something when it produces an overwhelming positive emotional response. The emotional response is so large that I don’t think I could cope very well without the hope of experiencing it again. Things I like, I can do without and easily replace. Things I love are things that, if gone, I would severely miss and, when they are gone, I crave. For instance, I like peanuts and I even like them a lot, but if someone said “no more peanuts, ever” I think I would be okay. On the other hand, if someone said “no more milk, ever,” I would panic.

I really like going to museums. I certainly like it more than most people. I find art very powerful. And I would really like to say I love art. But, honestly, if I never saw another painting or I never saw another sculpture, I think I would be okay.

I cannot say that about other things. If I lost the ability to see, I would immediately mourn the loss of sunsets and clouds and the sky and trees. I would miss the horizon and lakes and mountains and snow. I would miss eyes and freckles and ears and lips. But, far down the list would be art, certainly below birds or fish or even my own reflection.

My feelings on art is different than, say, music. With the loss of hearing, I almost immediately think of the loss of music and how horrible that would be. Given the choice between never again hearing music and never hearing the sound of wind or the sound waves crashing, I would probably choose nature over music, but it would be agonizing decision and recovering from such a loss would be difficult.

Of course, many people really do love art. They study it and devote their life to it. They can’t get enough it and surround themselves with it. Without it, many of them would be empty and lost.

Perhaps artists enjoy art because they have to work harder to be great. Michelangelo spent 40 years, off and on, on the Sistine chapel and it captivates people for five, maybe ten minutes. Richard Berry spent five, maybe ten minutes writing “Louie Louie” and it’ll be stuck it my head for a lifetime. Art is certainly a difficult medium to use to communicate. People spend hours and hours creating something physical to communicate emotion. With speech, we can communicate it in seconds. Humans may not be hardwired to take in art like they do with other media.

Then again, maybe those that love art are hardwired for it. Maybe they just get it like Bobby Fisher gets chess. Or maybe they learn to love it like academics learn to love their discipline.

All I know is I simply really like art, which may be subject to change.