The Importance of Art and Fast Food
I’ve thought a lot about this subject, that is, the importance of art, high art and how it relates to fine dining and fast food.
Take, for example, the recent changes in NPR’s Performance Today where they have cut back on commentary, history, and music appreciation in lieu of just more music. Just the facts ma’am. It seems that people just want some more drive time relaxation, mood music to which to fall asleep, or just to cover the naked backdrop of their lives with sonic tapestries.
A lot of people would call such an indictment pure snobbery, that classical music has long been a refuge of the rich, an inaccessible art form protected by high fences of academia, class, and prohibitive economies. Classical music becomes a talisman of protection from the unwashed masses. As a stone it is used more often to build walls than an inviting warm home.
I watch both sides rail against each other, especially with the most recent changes in Performance Today. Classical music snobs lament the dumbing down of the program, saying essentially that there are no more refuges in which to hide from the "…pop artists, many of whom don’t deserve the time of day." Pop aficionados, offended at someone calling their art form less than art, react with similar negativity against the classical music community, calling it, "Music by dead people" "Irrelevant" and "Out of touch."
Well, I’m here to settle the debate once and for all. Now take careful notes here, because this is going to be the final word.
Classical music is to music what fine dining is to food, or what The Mission is to movie making, or what For Whom the Bell Tolls is to literature. Conversely, Pop music is to music, what McDonalds (I prefer Wendy’s though) is to food, or Star Wars is to movie making, or Tom Clancy is to literature. It’s that simple, folks.
Now, before you get offended let me explain. Before concluding from the above that I prefer or respect one genre over the other, let me just say that I eat "low art" food more frequently than I dine finely. Dining finely costs more, for one. $100 per plate is pretty steep, I’d say. However, for the creation of an accomplished chef, personally crafted for me, cooked to perfection, seasoned with skill, and served artfully, I’m willing to give of myself. But I don’t just have to give monetarily. In order to appreciate the creation, I have got to know a bit about it. That takes experience, study, and refined palette. I personally am but a student, a worm, unworthy perhaps of the creation put in front of me, but I approach it with gusto, trying to soak all of the experience from the plate in front of me, tasting the history, the study, the preparation, the ingredients. Whew! It is an infrequent experience which leaves me exhausted and satisfied to the very depths of my soul. I am filled to an overflowing, babbling, quivering mass. To do it more often would seem gluttonous, a transgression upon the soul.
I think one of the most extraordinary movies I have ever seen is The Mission with Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons. It is a deep drama about Jesuit missionaries in Brazil in their quest to keep the slave traders of Portugal at bay. There is political intrigue, the Catholic leadership making worldly political decisions in contrast to the idealistic keepers of the truth, the Jesuits. They clash, and the obvious outcome is the destruction of a people and the death of the idealists. You finish watching this movie and are run over, depressed at the savagery of man, tired from the depth of sadness, and wishing fervently that the movie could have turned out differently but knowing it could not. How often could I watch such a movie without losing all hope for humanity? Certainly, I could not watch it more than just a few times. In fact, we own it, but it has been years since I have watched it. I am not ready, it is too rich, too bankrupting, too indulgent, too much to bear.
For Whom the Bell Tolls is by far my favorite piece of literature. In much the same way as I relish fine dining and fine movie making, Hemingway has crafted a setting, a time, a world that is at the same time compelling as it is repulsive. The drama of an American fighting for idealism during the Spanish Civil War, a prelude to World War II, his love, his politics, his sacrifice, draws me in and at the same time fills me with much sadness. I want the book never to end. When I reread it, I get progressively slower hoping that it would never end that I could preserve the literary reality forever. But alas, it always does end, Robert Jordan does indeed die, and the Fascists do take control of Spain for many years. Sigh, it’s so real, it envelopes me, takes me away, soaks in to the depth of my soul and I must put the book down for for a time or risk losing myself.
So where do I go from here? I surely cannot dine on fine cuisine every day. I have not the money, time, nor am I willing to invest of myself so frequently so much. I cannot watch The Mission more than but a few times every decade, and I cannot read For Whom the Bell Tolls or run the risk of over nourishing and mineral poisoning my soul.
Most of our lives are spent eating "pop culture", consuming "pop" food, watching "pop" movies and tv, and reading "pop" books. Pop is this case comes from Popular, or in Latin, "of the people." These are the things that sustain us, folks. The are mostly fillers, things with which to fortify the body, mind, and soul short term. We cannot exist without them, I think. We must nourish ourselves daily without paying such a heavy price, either economically or spiritually. Sometimes a burger is just a burger, a flick just a flick, and a rag just a rag.
But neither can we sustain "life" based SOLEY on them. Without high art, we run the risk of blandly floating through existence, neither aware of its depth, appreciative of its dimensions, and never ever coming fully to our senses. It is this that I feel is the most important. Experiences that demand a high price of us cannot be consumed every day, but MUST be consumed at some point. Consider them the trace elements necessary for life and health.