The Importance of Art
Art, in its various forms, helps us understand how we feel. It gives voice (or images) to express the things we keep hidden or are buried. And it makes us feel alive.
At first, I felt sorry for them.
Jocelyn & Chris, a brother-sister music group, made a stop in Omaha this past Sunday night on their six-week tour, and only five people showed up. The bass player came out first and thanked all of us for coming.
The band went on to play a soulful, gritty, 75-minute set. Jocelyn raised her hands, squatted, danced and belted out lyrics as if the room were full. And Chris played an inspired, bluesy guitar. Meanwhile, I bobbed my head and applauded after each song.
Partway through the performance, I didn’t feel sorry for them anymore. They were doing what they loved in front of people who wanted to hear from them. So what if only five people showed up and two of them left halfway through? Three of us really wanted to be there. And that felt like enough.
It spoke to the power of doing something for the mere love of it. And to the importance of showing up to consume it.
I think it’s why I continue to do book signings in places I’ve never visited. I did one in Palmyra, Nebraska, this summer at a farmers’ market. Nobody knew me or my work. But I talked to everyone who visited my booth, and a number of them walked away with copies of my books. One woman bought an armload full.
But it’s not about the sale. Or the money. Or the fame. It’s about the connection between the artist and the art lover. It’s about getting lost in the experience.
Art, in its various forms, helps us understand how we feel. It gives voice (or images) to express the things we keep hidden or are buried. And it makes us feel alive.
During the early days of the pandemic when everything was shut down, I missed hanging out with my friends something fierce. The second thing I missed was not being able to see live music. I hated it.
Some pretty cool things happened during lockdown though, like this version of Black Velvet by Jocelyn & Chris (a song originally recorded by Alannah Myles that was apparently about Elvis). They contacted musicians they knew, and from their own homes or studios, they created an incredible piece of art. You can feel the passion of each artist bursting out of each one, almost as if it were escaping after being locked up for far too long.
Several other musicians I follow relied solely on live-streamed performances (and tips) from their own homes during lockdown, and much of what they created was magical. One such artist wasn’t able to pay her band (they were supposed to be on tour) and it killed her. She put on a series of Monday night live-streamed concerts for free, though, because she knew the importance of music and how much we needed it.
As someone who creates, I love to support other creators. I show up by myself if I have to because one person is enough to encourage them to keep going. I don’t know if Jocelyn & Chris will ever return to Omaha, but I do know they didn’t play for a completely empty room. They played for people who were happy to be there.
Here are some tidbits you might find interesting this week:
Everyone needs a Duck and Goose (named after the Inklings’ The Eagle and Child), like in this article by Jason Dees: Friendship, the Sweetest Influence.
This video of a little guy reuniting with his dad is pretty special. I especially love the way he throws his hat on the ground.
Here’s a funny perspective about grandmas from an 8-year-old with a truth bomb at the end.
Let’s Talk About What It Really Feels Like to Get Older by Phil Robertson is spot on.
Wondering what you should do with those old slides? Check out this idea.
When Lee isn’t writing essays, devotional books, or Christmas novellas, he is a freelance editor, as well as a freelance journalist who has written hundreds of articles for various newspapers and magazines. He’s also a fan of NASCAR, baseball, tennis, books, movies and coffee shops.