These are dark days for artists and the arts. By “artists” and “the arts” I do not mean the avant-garde stereotype of indulgent silliness. Someone overturning a silverware drawer into the opening of a piano and calling it “music.” A few haphazard strings of glass and feather collected on a coathanger presented as “sculpture.”
No, I’m talking about some of the highest forms of human expression. Music. Painting. Sculpture. Literature. Dance. Theatre. The most elevated means of creativity known to mankind. Slowly and almost certainly being pushed further and further back from the forefront of our collective thought.
What is the cause of this? What has prompted this retreat from the more sublime manifestations of our culture? Don’t we understand what such a withdrawal means — if not to our civilization as a whole but to our very souls? Indeed, without art, the crudeness of reality makes the world unbearable.