Since by Man

Samovar

In my last post, I tried to analyze why I sometimes sit down at a keyboard and compose sentences, paragraphs, etc. rather than doing something else. Without getting into the “meaning of art” question (Red Green said, famously, 'I know what's art and what's not; if I like it, it's not art!') I've wondered lately what art form might best respond to present-day horrors in a similar manner to Pablo Picasso's Guernica response to the atrocities of the Spanish Civil War.

       There's enough doomsday news around for any artist to feed on: climate change, super bugs, Syrian, Ukrainian, Central African conflicts to name just a few. There's always a temptation in trying times to join anarchic responses to real or imagined tyranny, like early Anabaptists refusing to bow to the spiritual powers of the day.

We're seeing multiple examples of frustration breeding anarchy of various kinds and degrees in the world. Take Crimea as an example, if you like.

      Art can be political in style and purpose and it's no surprise that artists often take an anarchic stance that can appear, well, shocking . . . as Guernica or Jonathon Swift's essay, A Modest Proposal do.

      So here's my contribution (in early draft form) of an anarchist stance, a protest against the malaise we're witnessing among the powers of our time in the face of serious environmental, health threats . . . real or imagined:

SINCE BY MAN

Now is no time for cliches

Plastic proverbs

Hackneyed saws from ancient times

Pat answers for last year's questions.

Now is no time for wishfulness

For sounding out the stars

No time to play at cards

To risk it all against a lucky draw.

Crossed fingers will not save us now

No relic, shard or rabbit's foot

No pleading, begging, crying for relief

No word, no art, no gun, no vitamin.

Now is a time for nitro-glycerine

For trinitrotoluene, for sabotage

Now is the time to know that since by man comes death

So also restoration comes by man

Or not at all. 

     . . . and a rider. A poem is not a sermon, and lest you think that having written this obviously makes me an anarchist, not so. The apparent message that it's time to "blow stuff up" is not meant literally but falls into the category of speech figures, this time hyperbole. It's meant to shock the reader into considering that I, the poet and he/she, the reader need to consider more aggressive influence on current events. 

What's Art? What's craft? Does it matter?

The Station Arts did its annual Harvest Days last weekend. Typically, craft/art people display their work, work at their projects on-site and answer questions; a few people will sell honey, garden stepping stones, etc. and the day will be capped off by a concert, this time by the Saskatunes, three men and one woman in harmony, accompanying themselves on a variety of instruments. They're very good. They're real artists. Or is singing others people's songs a craft. I'm so confused.

This morning, I did the final touch up on a tile table top that Agnes and I created (photos above). We've almost mastered a craft, I think, although I used the wrong grout and it doesn't look as polished as it should. I excused it by pretending that it was part of a planned "rustic look." If there's such a thing as "accidental art," I don't suppose it's such a big stretch to "accidental craft," something like spilling paint on a floor, liking the effect and letting your visitors believe it was a result of artistic talent.

Red Green claims to be an expert on art. His methods are simple. "If I like it, it's not art!" he says. It's a bit like this expressed wisdom on diet, health and weight control: "If it tastes good, spit it out!"

I can't claim to recognize true art when I see it. But I do recognize Art when I see him. My usual greeting is, "Hi, Art," which always sounds to me like, "High art." When I greet my sister with, "Hi, Jean," I'm aware that it might sound like a reminder to clean her fingernails and wash up. I think we need to do away with the "Hi" greeting altogether. (Are you out there, Art and Jean?)

Quite a few people are apologizing to me for missing my book launch in Rosthern, and some for having to miss the reading at McNally Robinson in Saskatoon on Thursday, September 24 at 7:30 p.m. A friend at coffee missed that first "happening" completely, and said to me in some amazement, "I didn't know you'd been authorized?!?" A good crowd did come out and were gracious in their evaluations of the evening. I was warmed and very grateful. It was a good turnout considering that it's harvest time, half the crop is still in the field, the wheat's not ready and it rained all day yesterday. Farmers are anxious.

Have a great day. Do some art . . . or craft. It's good for the soul.