Is art a posh concept?

One of the most hurtful things said to me in the first years of primary school was when I was called a snob. It was hurtful cause it was said by the most popular boy, whom I, like every other girl in school, had a major crush on. I can still feel the embarrassment and disappointment, how could he be so cruel? And his reason?

“You read books” he said.

As opposed to 17 magazine, I suppose. That left me quite shocked and instantly fell outta love with him. (I guess I was a bit of a snob that way.)

But are books, is art in general a posh concept or is it for everyone?

The phrase, “you’re a snob”, followed me around, and every time it was linked to books or the vocabulary those books gave me. (Not in English, mind you, which is my second language, but in Hungarian.) Apparently being educated was frowned upon in certain circles.

If it happens to me, imagine how these people would’ve looked at Flaubert. Or Van Gogh who’s now considered one of the greatest artists but sold what? One painting in his lifetime?

Popularity vs quality

It’s a very dangerous thing that our society constantly mixes up popularity with quality. They’re completely different dimensions: they might coincide or they might not.

Like my crush from primary school was certainly popular but he wasn’t quality boyfriend material.

If I may refer back to another example from years gone by, my mum used to be obsessed with easy romantic readings for years when I was little. They were these handy little crossovers between a magazine and a book, about 50-80 pages, following the same template: woman meets man, attraction, difficulties, misundersandings and then the inevitable happy ending. They were very popular at the time and very stupid.

Fast forward to 2014 when the most popular love story of the year is The Fault In Our Stars, about two teenagers, struggling with life and death, love and cancer.

They’re both popular but very different quality, and while one follows a general approach, the latter is very specific in the circumstances.

Generality vs specialism

There are very few people who have genuine authority in more than 3-5 areas. My neighbour can tell which plant needs what kind of care in the garden and is also a retired lawyer, but knows very little about manners. My brother knows a lot about geography (or football, of course) but couldn’t tell you whether birds can smell. (It’s been a recent fascination of mine, watching seagulls and pigeons clean up the streets dawn after dawn: how do they know where to find food in the city? Do they take a chance hopping up and down on that particular street or can they smell the crumbs? Suggestions are welcome.)

We live in a very specialised world and maybe rightly so. Would you take a survey of 1000 random people on how to take out your appendix or would you rather rely on 5 surgeons who spent years on studying the alternative methods? And yes, I know, scholars often grow into insufferable egoists but being a cunt doesn’t diminish their knowledge and expertise.

Does that mean that only specialised knowledge can provide quality, especially in art?

The intelligence factor

And we’ve arrived to the part where you’ll definitely dislike me if you haven’t yet. Hell, even I dislike this opinion of mine… Let me ease you to it.

I’m a firm believer in equality, especially when it comes to opportunities and education but I also respect and appreciate our uniqueness. We’re all fit to different purposes. I, for example, can’t write music, and I doubt Martin Gore of Depeche Mode can analyse data like I do. But I bet it would take him less time learn my job than it would your average man from the street. Like it or not, we’re not the same and we don’t have the same IQ. (Just imagine what our world would be like if politicians had to meet a minimum IQ level to get into Parliament!)

So equality here or there, the talents we’re born with make that impossible. There are a select few who make art better than others. Sometimes it’s about IQ, other times it’s about EQ, or simply about endurance of pain.

A deeper understanding of ourselves

Art and pain go hand in hand, there’s no former without the latter. Pain cuts us open, revealing all the ugly and all the pretty that’s hidden inside. Artists understand this (either on a conscious or subconscious level) and use this pain to create empathy, to analyse, to heal. Their art justifies their pain.

Those who don’t (or can’t) have art at their disposal to deal with their pain, are in a saddening hurry to close those wounds, to re-bury the unknown. They won’t necessarily appreciate the reminder or understand its meaning.

What does it take to get to that understanding?

Active curiosity

Why the fascination about treasure maps or the likes of Da Vinci codes? Because they make us work hard to get something out of the story. They most expensive precious stones are the most difficult to find. But when it comes to art, few have real determination to get down to the point, to make sense of the chaos, to analyse the hidden. Where most people turn to something else, a curious artist soldiers on. They don’t just talk about discoveries, they make them. They are the ones who will gladly leave the road most walked to find something new.

So is art for the selected few or is it for everyone? I’ll let you all decide but I’ll leave you with a Picasso quote:

The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.

Love,

Andrea

About Miss Andi

Learning to be unapologetically me but healthier. Shamelessly personifying my dog, Mia, who is my soulmate, though doesn't let me read as much as I used to. One day I'll finish a novel that will not save the world - but might make it smile.

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