Why Art?
By John Daniel Teply
The ocean is our common heritage. Anyone may stand before it and have the experience of being in the presence of something enormous, awesome, overwhelming. Where water greets earth is an enchanted place - mysterious, joyous, revelatory. You need no training, no special introduction, no esoteric knowledge. To be moved by the ocean is no more, no less, than to accept our human lineage.
Humans have been described as spiritual beings living in a sensuous and wondrous universe. Those experiences of the greatest value often come to us on an intuitive level; we seem to have a knowledge of something we can't explain. It's not tangible, you cannot hold it in your hand. It's a knowledge you have, but barely perceptible; you are barely conscious of its existence, but you do understand and you do know. This is the turf of the arts - the work of expressing the ineffable and making the intangible real. Poets write it, dancers dance it, singers sing it, and painters paint it.
It may be the critical human flaw that knowledge can be passed down but wisdom can't. Every person and every community must find their own particular path. Problems as they present themselves are new to the individual and unique to the time. It is through the solving of our problems that we become wise, by our failures and success that we learn how the world works - and nobody else can do it for us.
What we can pass down are our values. It is through the arts that we learn the stories of other people and how they felt about things - what it is they understood, what indeed they valued. When we look upon the Parthenon or the marble statues of Kritio, when we read Plato, Sophocles, or Homer, we are given a window onto one culture's view of what is Good, True, and Beautiful. When we read Chaucer and St Augustine, or listen to Gregorian Chants, visit Chartes Cathedral or look at the paintings of Leonardo and Michelangelo, we are given a window onto the Medieval and Renaissance worlds in which every bird, every tree, every rock is a reflection of the glory and beauty of God. And we can use these visions as best we are able.
When we look at each painting in the For the Seventh Generation exhibit, we find a window opening onto a place that one of these artists finds of great value. It's not value that can be measured like a quart of oil or a pound of potatoes. It's value that is found on an intuitive level, in the arena where artists do their work. It's a subtle place with subtle knowledge, the place where those things of the greatest meaning (and value) are revealed. There we may discover what some call Spirit, or Being, or God. There we may connect with our own truest and deepest selves.
Wisdom cannot be passed down from one generation to the next, but these paintings from the project can be. If they can inspire our great-great-grandchildren as the thought of those to come inspires us now, the project will have achieved one of its most vital goals.
Humans have been described as spiritual beings living in a sensuous and wondrous universe. Those experiences of the greatest value often come to us on an intuitive level; we seem to have a knowledge of something we can't explain. It's not tangible, you cannot hold it in your hand. It's a knowledge you have, but barely perceptible; you are barely conscious of its existence, but you do understand and you do know. This is the turf of the arts - the work of expressing the ineffable and making the intangible real. Poets write it, dancers dance it, singers sing it, and painters paint it.
It may be the critical human flaw that knowledge can be passed down but wisdom can't. Every person and every community must find their own particular path. Problems as they present themselves are new to the individual and unique to the time. It is through the solving of our problems that we become wise, by our failures and success that we learn how the world works - and nobody else can do it for us.
What we can pass down are our values. It is through the arts that we learn the stories of other people and how they felt about things - what it is they understood, what indeed they valued. When we look upon the Parthenon or the marble statues of Kritio, when we read Plato, Sophocles, or Homer, we are given a window onto one culture's view of what is Good, True, and Beautiful. When we read Chaucer and St Augustine, or listen to Gregorian Chants, visit Chartes Cathedral or look at the paintings of Leonardo and Michelangelo, we are given a window onto the Medieval and Renaissance worlds in which every bird, every tree, every rock is a reflection of the glory and beauty of God. And we can use these visions as best we are able.
When we look at each painting in the For the Seventh Generation exhibit, we find a window opening onto a place that one of these artists finds of great value. It's not value that can be measured like a quart of oil or a pound of potatoes. It's value that is found on an intuitive level, in the arena where artists do their work. It's a subtle place with subtle knowledge, the place where those things of the greatest meaning (and value) are revealed. There we may discover what some call Spirit, or Being, or God. There we may connect with our own truest and deepest selves.
Wisdom cannot be passed down from one generation to the next, but these paintings from the project can be. If they can inspire our great-great-grandchildren as the thought of those to come inspires us now, the project will have achieved one of its most vital goals.