I got to thinking about art today as I took my first listen through Bon Iver’s new album Bon Iver and I realized that I really like Bon Iver, and other musical talents out there. Art is something of a phenomenon when we think about it: it isn’t always logical, it isn’t about precision, it isn’t always properly categorized and difficult to do so. There is something that art touches upon that mere discussion and science can’t always reach, a way in which it connects with us in just that way that nothing else does. We may be able to describe loss with precise words, but precision doesn’t touch us the way a metaphor does (i.e. “My endorphins are transmitting” as opposed to “I am dying inside.”) There is a way in which art is the better way of expressing ourselves, and it is often called just that: self-expression. And I want to discuss that a little bit.
Often when people begin to think about art and what it means to them, whether it is their own or someone else’s, there is a common trend these days to see meaning in art as pluralistic. There is no one meaning, no one authority, only what you make of it. What the author may have meant or felt as they authored their work is rather meaningless as long as you pull something from it. In this view no one can say for certain what a given piece of art means. Now there is something positive about this as no one is able to run around and clobber their critics over the head with the “authority” meaning, but there are some huge flaws in seeing art this way, and one major point being that art no longer becomes self-expression. The character of self is eliminated from the discussion. Art becomes a selfless concept, with essentially no author behind it, an entity all it’s own. In a way, the author no longer has any voice, any say in what she was trying to communicate in her art; she is rather muted. Now I may point out that some authors do that, leaving the meaning up to the audience to determine, but by that point art becomes meaningless. There is not a meaning, and so the author may as well have put random words down on paper and hoped he was lucky enough to put two things together that you fancied. If art does not find its meaning from the author, it may as well not be done. Art without meaning is art without purpose.
Now there is a selfless aspect to art as the artist composes her work and releases it into the world. She is giving of herself for others to see, exposing a thought, a feeling, a fear, in hopes that she may bring understanding and connection with another, or even to say, “see the world this way.” And first of all she should be applauded taking such a leap for she knows there will be criticism for what she has said. I believe criticism should come in the context of safety and intimacy, not obscurity and ferocity. For as an artist is critiqued and asked, “does this mean this?” she is better able to adjust her art, possibly give a more precise communication. And there is a place for art to achieve a deeper meaning then is first seen. As the artist gives her self-expression to the world, others may come along and give the meaning a wider application then just a singular instance. But first and foremost the author must always be given authority to claim what is and isn’t true. Someone may come along and claim an opposite meaning from the art that the author did not intend, and she should always be given to right to tell him, “No, do not see it that way.”
When authors do not take up authority of their art, when they leave it open for anyone to say anything about, they also lose their voices. It may seem noble and mature to release art into the world and to allow it to grow and become something you never guessed it would be, but such an idea is ignorant of what it means to author something. Without authority to claim how people interpret your work you have not achieved something noble, but something pointless. You have left the world with nothing, a shapeless mold that anyone, friend or foe, may use for whatever means they wish. Your self-expression has become null and void.
Now on the other hand it may be difficult to always understand the artist’s message, or to fully grasp what has been expressed, and we may often have to come back and back again to a given work to finally come to some meaning. And sometimes as we do with a child, we may have to ask, “Do you mean this? Or this?” and this can especially be hardest when the author may no longer be living, but when we position ourselves, as the receivers of a self-expression, as understanders and not over-standers, striving with humility to understand without our own pretenses, we come closer to respect the author than any personal interpretation will come.
And as was stated earlier, we must be willing to let our work be critiqued, and applied to different contexts then we ever would have thought of, for failure to do so is not self-expression but selfish-expression. Though as authors we have authority to say, “Yes” and “No” we must be willing to also say, “Also in that way, and in that place.” If we cling onto our expression and allow it only to be used in this way, in this place we may as well, like the meaningless art spoken of earlier, never have put pen to paper, or brush to canvas, or fingers to instrument. If our art is kept close and bound up, there is no reason for our art to ever be seen.
Now onto another point:
As I listened to Bon Iver, and realized that I really like it, I also realized there are types of music that I do not like. Now this doesn’t seem like much of an epiphany, but there is something about music that is realistic, open, vulnerable that I like a whole lot more than anything else, precisely because it is realistic, open, vulnerable. There is something welcoming and freeing to the songs that do not claim a worldview that is unsustainable. And as I thought about this I realized something profound, and sad: most often “Christian” music and much “Secular” music juxtapose one another, not as one good and one bad, but as two extremes of life that are unsustainable. Now if you were to explore my music library you would probably see an even split between “Christian” and “Secular” artists, but that is because these are usually the ones who do not portray a worldview that is unachievable, that are honest about the struggles and don’t blow them off with optimistic lines like “God is in control” or “You and I, we’ll be young forever.”
Often when “Secular” music is critiqued there are claims of “drugs, sex, booze, lewdness” which, to be honest, is often there. Many songs attempt to convey a lifestyle that is honestly unsustainable, and not because it is wrong, but because if someone really did those things all the time, they would be unable to live for long. Science itself tells us that the human body needs sleep, nutrients, cleansing for it to continue for long; failure to life a healthy lifestyle leads to many problems. Or often such songs are wrapped up in the moment, the feeling of ecstasy and invulnerability that sadly doesn’t last. Often those feelings are rather connected to endorphins and other chemicals, not to an actual sustainable living. But sadly so do many “Christian” songs.
Often the lyrics are about keeping your head up, living courageously, confidently, turning a blind eye to suffering. Ironically it forgets that many biblical passages are keenly aware of suffering (Ps. 109). Often optimism is substituted for encouragement, telling believers that “everything’s gonna be alright.” Instead of encouragement, though, often the believer is left feeling insufficient, as if their faith is not enough, or that they are weak. Sadly “Christian” music never sings like the Psalms of Lament, never questions where God’s hand is at work. Instead it seems to pat you on the head and say, “Weak Christian, just have faith.” And once more this is not a sustainable lifestyle, where the believer feels insufficient for a time, then when good times come along they stride confidently with their head held high, but once suffering comes again they wonder what they did wrong, or why they can’t see God’s hand at work. This vicious cycle continues constantly.
Instead Christian music should be the music that speaks truth and honesty into the world, that calls out the suffering of innocents, cries alongside the mourners, knows when to dance, and when to put on sackcloth. It shouldn’t stray to either of the two extremes, but should be planted in the realm of realism, of honesty, and from there proclaim hope, not optimism. And hope starts from a place of suffering, but looks beyond it, not away from it.
Cameron
