Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when my mind is in
that whispy state between drowsiness and wakefulness, great, profound and important
thoughts occur to me. Unless I write them down they disappear like clouds in
the sky, to be wondered at one minute, gone the next.
Usually when I read what I have written,
what once seemed so vital appears trite and trivial when looked at again in the morning.
A couple of nights ago I had some thoughts on the spiritual
nature of the practice of art. Now there’s a subject pregnant with profundity!
Why I was musing on such things when I should have been sleeping and dreaming
lovely dreams I cannot say.
The thoughts that occurred to me required recording, so I
thought in my 3am state of stupor, and so I set them down.
‘Fundamentalists of all faiths distrust art and often ban
it. Christian Puritans, Islamic Salafi, Ultra Orthodox Jews… all teach in their
own way that art is anathema and that all truth has been revealed directly by
God. Art has nothing to add or say. God provides all the answers and a complete framework for living. Nothing
is open for exploration and discovery. The human lot is to submit and obey.
The art of the political extremes is not dissimilar. It asks
no questions and exists only to propagandise and glorify the leader or ideology.
Yet art surely is a dialogue with God - or at least one's spiritual side. It is a process of
discovery and great art inhabits that space between life and death and is made
up of both. Art discovers and exposes both beauty and ugliness. It asks the
awkward questions. Art explores paradox and contradiction. The execution and
practice can be prayerful and meditative.
Much recent, secular, contemporary art has consciously
denied God. It is entirely human and urban centred. It is only interested in
human trivia and minutiae and the artists involved produce pointless work that
can only be explained and justified with the aid of contorted and strangulated jargon. Many
contemporary art movements have been inward-looking and insulated, powered
and justified by a delusory market funded by super rich.’
I must think about that a bit more now that I am awake. I
couldn’t have been that dosey when I wrote it!
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