Will art survive the crisis?
Living in Singapore, the pragmatic design of the environment, especially the vast expanse of public housing we call HDB’s, reminds me of founding Father Lee Kuan Yew’s 1968 pronouncement, "Poetry is a luxury we cannot afford.” Rather we need, “a philosophy of life… a value system” with an emphasis on pragmatism, tolerance and meritocracy, the ingredients identified for the survival of a tiny country in the crisis years following independence.
But 55 years later, in a different crisis, we can’t afford to ignore the need for art, poetry, literature, film and creativity in all its forms. Adapting to the new version of ourselves is the next item on the human agenda and it’s essential that artists and dreamers are involved in shaping this ‘new normal.’ Creativity is the basis of adaptability, and we need to give it full rein as we grapple with both the fears and the possibilities of a new reality.
The pandemic has expedited the domination of the digital with people believing that everything can be experienced without leaving their room. So, having already outsourced our general knowledge to Google, are we about to do the same with our relationships through Zoom? These issues have massive consequences for the arts.
The first is the absence of the body. Artists make things with their hands, arms and eyes, motivated by the desire to make sense of their observations and experiences. The work produced may fill a space, have a texture or grain or even a distinctive odour. Made by the body, the physical is essential to the experience, but humanity seduced by screens small and large, may be travelling in the opposite direction.
The second is the deprivation of first-hand experience. Art museums and galleries aren’t considered essential services (and neither is love). The presumption that we understand a work of art, like the Mona Lisa, because we’ve seen a reproduction of it on Google may be misinformed. Many imagine that Leonardo’s painting must be quite large, because it’s so famous, but of course it’s not very big at all. At the moment people can’t go to a concert or look at art, and in a country like ours with a history of art being a non-essential luxury will this attitude continue to be ingrained rather than challenged? Art historian Jonathan Fineberg says, “Museums and works of art are among the few arenas left where individual expression can exist on a public scale, and if we lose that, we’ve lost one of the last vehicles for individuals to express themselves.”
The third is a kind of intellectual constriction, stemming the stream of knowledge and imagination. Our online search methods may be limited by our general knowledge, which means there are a lot of questions that will never be asked. In contrast, art connects us with ourselves, with our culture and with the culture of others. Throughout human history we have made things that go beyond shelter or sustenance: objects or symbols that communicate complex messages capable of invoking worship or provoking war. Art such as this has changed the course of history, shaping who we are today.
Art in all its forms remains our greatest articulation of the value of the individual, the achievements of culture, the solidarity of our species and our optimism that the future can be better. Art connects us in every way, even in a crisis.