Art?

Since a young age I have always been sourounded by art in some fashion or another. I am not unlike most people in that way. But different than most people, I currently serve as the Artisitic Director of "The Village Green" a little Dinner and entertainment venue in clearfield, so shouldn't I have more understanding of Art than most? I am not sure that I do. When I speak of Art I am not specifically reffering to Art that hangs on a wall. In fact I am very rarely moved by that type of Art.

Does that make me less sophisticated in my Artisitic tastes? I concider myself and Artist, I am a singer, I play the guitar, I am a playwrite, a Set designer, an actor, but mostly I seem most comfortable simply in the role of entertainer in any form. I think a lot of artisits would look as Art simply for entertainment as shallow. Am I a Shallow artist?

Wikipedia defines Art as, "the product or process of deliberately arranging symbolic elements in a way that influences and affects one or more of the senses, emotions, and intellect. It encompasses a diverse range of human activities, creations, and modes of expression". While I love music, theater, movies, and literature, and I write and act and sing, I should really find out what Art is and what it means to me if I am going to serve as and Artistic Director to anything.

I think one of my earliest memories of being moved by any type of art, was listening to my Mom get ready for her own piano recitals. She was a piano teacher, but also continued to take piano lessons herself. I would climb under the piano while she played and listen to the Bass notes thunder through my head and hear the tinkling ot the upperstrings ring in my ears. I always thought it was interesting that the different notes would effect my body in a different way. On this particular day I asked my Mom what she was playing, because it concerned me that at the end of the piece the music became very sad. She told me that this particular piece had a story, and at the end of the piece the man in the story's daughter died. I really do not remember who the man in the story was or anything more about the story she told. But I remember that his daughter died, and felt how sad the music made me feel. I was always amazed how the music could let me know just how the man was feeling. The music could literally open up my heart and feel his pain.

Later in Life as I was standing at the bedside of my Father who had passed away earlier that evening, I felt like I was back underneath that piano, only instead of music making me feel that way. I was the man, only I had lost my father. The feeling was the same just more profound. Funny how it seems that the music can contain those feelings, but the heart cannot. They burst out like a blown tire on the freeway, and you can control it but not before it sends your car reeling into other lanes and finally the the side of the road. Is that what Art is, an artifically controled emotional response? If it is I can understand why, because the real emotions can be unbearable.

If I can create that level of movement in people like the composer of the unknown piece my Mom was playing, then maybe I can really call myself an Artist. As I move forward writing this blog, that is what I hope to do with myself and anyone who reads this. Pray I will find the courage to write words that will move and open my heart let alone others.