"Yes - but, darling, is it art?"

So last night – I woke up at 2’o clock in the morning – completely awake and really thirsty. This could be attributed to the fact that I had just finished 2 glasses of beautiful red wine –I don’t know – what I do know is that I suddenly had the urge to write. Anything. Poetry. A novel. Anything.
So - - - now comes the great question: what to write about?
Do you delve into the deepest pits of your heart and dig up some emotional quality or experience that truly affected you? Or do you find an object in the room and just muse over it? You think I’m kidding? I’ve read poetry dedicated to armchairs, vases and a pen.
Reminder: this could also have just been the wine talking.

So luckily, I had something that had been on my brain for a while now – and I decided to write about it (buy the book one day, I’m not spoiling the fun now).
The problem for me came with deciding whether this poem that I had just written was a “good poem”…
Of course, being quite critical of myself, I was unsure – it was written in free verse (not structured), it doesn’t rhyme and I certainly have never had formal poetry coaching before.
So was it going to be an ordinary little poem or was it going to be a piece of art?
This had me thinking about exactly what “art” really is - specifically in poetry and music.

And I remembered a song that we had put in “Dance me a song” at the Masque Theatre
“Bit by bit, putting it together – piece by piece, only way to make a work of art.”
In the musical “Sunday in the park with George’’, Stephen Sondheim tackles a big question: but is it art?
What constitutes a work of art?
We are sometimes quite forward in what’s art and what’s not art – we sometimes forget to remind ourselves that it may not be art to us, but it may be art to the artist and many others.
Richard Wollheim classified the defining of what is art and what isn’t as "one of the most elusive of the traditional problems of human culture’’ – and isn’t it?

Leo Tolstoy clarified this a bit more when he said: “…art is a use of indirect means to communicate from one person to another.”

This, for me, comes a little closer.
I think I would define it like this:

“Art starts where talking stops.” – Germandt Geldenhuys

Isn’t this exactly what art should be doing? Transcending human dialogue.
So this is how I am going to measure what I call art:
1. Does it say more without saying any more?
2. Is it a universal language that can be understood by anyone from anywhere?
3. Is it a truthful expression of the artist’s soul?

This is why I love poetry so much – you can express in a few lines what people spend hours saying. Such a distilled form of expression. In Afrikaans we have a saying that goes: “’n Goeie begryper het ‘n halwe woord nodig” – roughly translated as “Those who are intellectual enough, don’t need more than a couple of words to understand something.”
And isn’t this so true?
Think back on those times when you talk to someone for hours on the phone or in person but don’t really say anything. And then think back on those times when someone only needed to say one word to affect you – whether it be positive or negative.

Then - music - my favourite.
Those who know me well enough, know that any rendition of “Send in the Clowns” sends me bawling.

Music has the ability to move us immensely: me, Emma and Natasha were actually discussing this in class today.
I think it relates to a couple of factors. One of them definitely relating to my last blog about a group of people having the same goal.

But further than that – (and correct me if I’m wrong) – I think that music is the closest we will ever come to hearing and seeing our emotions.
Think about it. I don’t know if it just happens to me – but whenever I think of a specific emotion I associate it with a piece of music I have heard somewhere.
Scientists have proven that letting babies listen to Mozart increases their IQ (intellectual quotient) and their EQ (emotional quotient). Coincidence? I think not.
So then it makes sense that music is such a universal language, doesn’t it?
Just like emotions can be understood all over the world – so can music.

And then lastly, is it a truthful expression of the artist’s soul?

Well, I think that’s for the artist to decide.
Sincere expression is the one thing that can never be faked.


So - - after much deliberation: is my little poem going to be an “ordinary poem” or a work of art?
To be honest, I’m still not sure.

But - - - - - as I said: in the end, that’s for me to decide.