The Twenty First Century Artist
Aug 21st, 2009 | By W.B. Burkholder | Category: Featured Articles | 974 viewsWho is the Artist and who is the Man, What differences lay therein?
Who is it that struggles more or less, is it a monopoly one over the other?
It is in the minds of all men to seek serenity and peace, to stand and hope for this is common to all.
Yes, we all have this in common, but the Artist has the tools with which to utter man’s dissent. This dissent to the injustices and violence’s waged upon the world and upon ourselves.
However, if the Artist believes that he is inculpable of these same injustices; his beliefs are that of indolence. For the Artist is no different in terms of the flesh and bone we speak of; this cage is inherent to all.
Struggle is also inherent. Who is it that has not done so? In this day and age as in most ages past, we have witnessed the violent upheaval of country against country, neighbor against neighbor. Americans and the world have watched towers and airplanes fall from the sky. And while this is agreeably horrific, we enlist and unleash a nationally based reprisal against our fellow human beings.
Yes, justice must be served, but it must be served by calm and learned hands. Some nine years later we find ourselves wallowed deep in the decay of war. And to what end has it been justified. The soldier will say that it is to bestow honor upon his fallen comrades and that is why the fight must go on. The politician will say it is to ensure stability in the affected region. The businessman will say it is to regain stability in the markets.
But the Man, the Woman and child only ask when will this end? The laid off workers, the new lower class of America, the grieving Mothers and Fathers, the limbless young men and woman. What is it that they see? The world’s future lies wounded upon an uncaring street.
And yet, what is it that an artist can do that a man cannot? The artist is a part of the melee, part of this violent soup. He may sit outside the bowl separate from the rest, but he cannot deny his complicity with this.
We must come to terms with our humanity as artists. For the artist to deny this would surely be the greatest lie. It is the twenty first century and we are the Writer’s, the artists of this age. What is it that we are prepared to tell the future? What is it that will be said of us and our work?
Let us not lie to them, let us not squander our opportunity to convey our perceived truths in the most laudable of lights. However we must all confess that we are first and foremost,
Man, simple men and women who struggle, who live, and die, who at times celebrate injustices, who embrace blind thought and bias’s, who breathe and bleed just as they, just as we… We are the heartbeat and pulse of these times. But let us not hold that above our brothers and sisters, Let our combined works embrace the common man. For if not for him, Art is meaningless.
Help Support T21 with your Dollar Donation Today|
About W.B. Burkholder: Content Editor, Troubadour 21 - Bill is a Poet, Author, Digital photographer. You can find his work at Nirvanasgate |
©2009 W.B. Burkholder All Rights Reserved
I am definitelt a member of the “Melee, the Violent Soup” composed of Artists. This was a Tremendous Article and ALL who call themselves Artists, should read this. Even the gifted need to be reminded, of their duty, their mission, and yes, even their own passions!
This is a very interesting piece, but I feel I must offer a somewhat dissenting opinion on this. Of course, this opinion is offered with the utmost respect for you and your work, but offer it I must. I honestly feel that as an artist, I am compelled to create only what I am moved to create. What my muse calls me to create, if you will.
In his wonderful essay Self-Reliance Emerson wrote,
If my muse does not call me to speak out against the calamity of war, or struggles of poverty, who am I to force it? And who is to say that my neglect is a misuse of my talent?
I honestly find your essay to be compelling and obviously heartfelt. And if your muse calls you to stand for those things through your art then you must. For you to disregard it would be dishonest and reprehensible. I note Dalton Trumbo’s novel Johnny Got His Gun and Wilfred Owens’ wonderful poem Dulce et Decorum Est to be just those types of art, and these works have been marking posts of my own life, without them I would not be the man I am today. I do however, have a distaste for compelling the artist to write or create that to which he is not called. And when he acquiesces to this pressure, whether for money or expediency, I find his action reprehensible.