primalmommy@IVILLAGE.COM on fri 15 sep 00
I am overwhelmed to the point of sentimental tears over the number of emails i have received - on list and off - from potters offering marketable holiday trinket and treasure ideas (and advice for finding critique). I was up until 2a.m. trying this and that, covered a great big square of drywall board with stuff; and meanwhile came up with some good ideas for projects I can do with kids at our UU church this year.
As for art and arrogance: even when I listened to only Muddy Waters and Delta Blues, I never assumed Vivaldi sucked; I didn't listen to classical music, but knew there was something of value there that I didn't have the appreciation to understand. There was a time when Boones Farm Strawberry Wine would have been "better" than Merlot, but I developed different tastes as I got older. So: did Vivaldi and Merlot "suck" back then, and somehow improved? Or did I expand my appreciation to include/enjoy them? For decades I never saw a Picasso that "spoke" to me, and then saw his rendition of an angular, solid mother with a baby in her lap in cool, storm-at-the-beach colors; a print of it is on the wall across from my computer and still has the same impact as the first time I saw it.
It's odd that different things appeal to us at different times in our lives. I once stood in awe of the greek vases with the slip painted figures and sgrafitto details; last week at the art museum they didn't move me. But last month in CT at the mystic aquarium I was transfixed by some artifacts from an ancient shipwreck, huge functional amphorae meant for shipping olive oil and fish sauce. I literally had goosebumps. Look! There's where the potter thumbed on the base of the handle, there are the throwing marks, there's the signature stamp -- old firing marks and sea rime and barnacled spots and those little lines of calcium like worm trails from ages in the deep. I'll never forget it.
Of course art is in the eye of the beholder; what moves me next will depend on who/where/how old I am then, my experience, my mood at the moment.
But if there is something I am willing to bet the farm on, it's that literature, art, music that survive across time and travel across cultures do so because they matter. Maybe not to you, or maybe not now, but they are of value, in a way that I challenge myself to understand. Like learning to appreciate ripe cheese; it adds one more joy to your pallet. (palate?) one more joy that you might have passed by.
It's the easy road to dismiss something as a case of the emperor's new clothes, or elitism, and refuse to look further; you never have to admit that there may be things you don't understand. Maybe it's a Unitarian thing, but I never assume anyone else should be on my path or like what I like, or even that I will be on this same path a year from now. To declare that something is of no value insults the sensitivity of people who don't live in your skin and may find that thing powerful and relevant. And when most of the world thinks something has value, maybe there's something you're not seeing; a certain amount of humility is in order when you admit you don't understand it. Yet.
Quick example: Student potters looking at a bunch of pots for sale. Some of us thinking "what would I use" or "what matches the couch". We choose pots, leaving half a dozen teabowls sitting untouched. Until a knowledgeable potter explains what a teabowl is, how they are used, what elements they are required to have; the students ended up passing them around, exploring them with our hands, fascinated and drawn to them now that somebody had provided a context.
Just my point of view. I am grateful that when my favorite meal was a bowl of sugar frosted chocolate cereal, that I didn't declare for all time that lobster and artichokes and hollandaise sucked. Look what I'd have missed out on...
Kelly in Ohio
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Earl Brunner on fri 15 sep 00
Yours was one of the most well written, gentile, non knee
jerk reactions to this that I have read. Great stuff, well
thought out and expressed.
primalmommy@IVILLAGE.COM wrote:
>
> I am overwhelmed to the point of sentimental tears over the number of emails i have received - on list and off - from potters offering marketable holiday trinket and treasure ideas (and advice for finding critique). I was up until 2a.m. trying this and that, covered a great big square of drywall board with stuff; and meanwhile came up with some good ideas for projects I can do with kids at our UU church this year.
>
> As for art and arrogance: even when I listened to only Muddy Waters and Delta Blues, I never assumed Vivaldi sucked; I didn't listen to classical music, but knew there was something of value there that I didn't have the appreciation to understand. There was a time when Boones Farm Strawberry Wine would have been "better" than Merlot, but I developed different tastes as I got older. So: did Vivaldi and Merlot "suck" back then, and somehow improved? Or did I expand my appreciation to include/enjoy them? For decades I never saw a Picasso that "spoke" to me, and then saw his rendition of an angular, solid mother with a baby in her lap in cool, storm-at-the-beach colors; a print of it is on the wall across from my computer and still has the same impact as the first time I saw it.
>
> It's odd that different things appeal to us at different times in our lives. I once stood in awe of the greek vases with the slip painted figures and sgrafitto details; last week at the art museum they didn't move me. But last month in CT at the mystic aquarium I was transfixed by some artifacts from an ancient shipwreck, huge functional amphorae meant for shipping olive oil and fish sauce. I literally had goosebumps. Look! There's where the potter thumbed on the base of the handle, there are the throwing marks, there's the signature stamp -- old firing marks and sea rime and barnacled spots and those little lines of calcium like worm trails from ages in the deep. I'll never forget it.
>
> Of course art is in the eye of the beholder; what moves me next will depend on who/where/how old I am then, my experience, my mood at the moment.
>
> But if there is something I am willing to bet the farm on, it's that literature, art, music that survive across time and travel across cultures do so because they matter. Maybe not to you, or maybe not now, but they are of value, in a way that I challenge myself to understand. Like learning to appreciate ripe cheese; it adds one more joy to your pallet. (palate?) one more joy that you might have passed by.
>
> It's the easy road to dismiss something as a case of the emperor's new clothes, or elitism, and refuse to look further; you never have to admit that there may be things you don't understand. Maybe it's a Unitarian thing, but I never assume anyone else should be on my path or like what I like, or even that I will be on this same path a year from now. To declare that something is of no value insults the sensitivity of people who don't live in your skin and may find that thing powerful and relevant. And when most of the world thinks something has value, maybe there's something you're not seeing; a certain amount of humility is in order when you admit you don't understand it. Yet.
>
> Quick example: Student potters looking at a bunch of pots for sale. Some of us thinking "what would I use" or "what matches the couch". We choose pots, leaving half a dozen teabowls sitting untouched. Until a knowledgeable potter explains what a teabowl is, how they are used, what elements they are required to have; the students ended up passing them around, exploring them with our hands, fascinated and drawn to them now that somebody had provided a context.
>
> Just my point of view. I am grateful that when my favorite meal was a bowl of sugar frosted chocolate cereal, that I didn't declare for all time that lobster and artichokes and hollandaise sucked. Look what I'd have missed out on...
>
> Kelly in Ohio
>
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--
Earl Brunner
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