Blogs » Musings On Muses » World Affairs Have A Way Of,

Subscribe


 
World Affairs Have A Way Of,
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
September 30, 2009

World affairs have a way of embellishing themselves onto the world of the arts. The political battlefields and the chest-beating posturing that goes with them burn their collective way into the products of any and all people with the power of imagination. As artist wandering the cyclonic playgrounds of the human race, we glean unique ways to express what we see. The same old “same old” is always there. Boring rhetoric and endless speeches fill our senses with platitudinous overtures of epic proportions. The constant barrage of opposing views and clashing beliefs numb us more than any drug ever can. Try to comprehend it all and one might well end up in a fetal position, sweating, shaking, or worse.

Lies abound. Leaping from every podium to snatch our hearts, minds, and wallets, they compete in a game we wish would end. It never does. We watch elections the world over and wince at the violence of oppression that is clear and present. Not all nations are democracies but, that doesn’t mean we are by any means living in a utopia. Who was the last president that kept his promises? I wish I knew. That’s an interesting research to undertake. File the idea under “to do”. History teaches us to remember it for the sake of not having to repeat the pains it has taken us through. Not learned, that lesson is guaranteed to teach itself again and again. From the highest of human leadership, to the lowest malicious cult leaders, we find ourselves all too easily navigating a minefield of infinite emotional sandpaper. Tongues spit fire towards us and we react by reflecting the flames. Beware the feedback loop with a liar in it. Hurricanes of words are difficult to escape from once they inhale the fuel of your soul.

Many old masters who were forbidden to paint certain themes got past the oppression by hiding their work in plain sight. Small scenes buried within scenes, the flow of a blouse like water revealing more than what the eye initially sees. Forbidden words hidden in the ruffles of collars and tiny stabs at authority, deftly brushed into buttons, rings, sword hilts, and brooches. The inquisition could crush free thinkers and their beliefs but not the spirits of those who understood what was at stake. Mozart gave us great symphonies and operas with suggestive emotional content. The beauty of many of his pieces was in the way they acknowledged even the darkest side of human nature. Even as some hated him for his actions in the public eye, he transcended the political state of the world he existed in, with his music.

Today artists lay their hearts and souls on the block with each release of their wares just as much as those of the past have done before them. The only difference is the arena in which they have to compete. The political climate in some countries can stymie the expression of the arts and many have been arrested or even put to death for expressing themselves by artistic means. In other places long standing old world systems embrace the arts and let them become the voice of the people. They are free to protest their leaders or praise them. Either way what is expressed is an almost direct derivative of the known political climate. Half a world away an artist can sing about an injustice and be heard while another half a world away another artist doing the same thing simply and suddenly disappears.

Nothing can ever give the human race more hope than when a group of artist come together to express themselves on behalf of some part of the world filled with people who cannot. The underlying cause usually has a political underpinning that fostered the situation and many deaths have probably already occurred before the first fully fledged breath of the idea has been exhaled. The urgency becomes palpable with each new breath and the momentum quickens to mercurial speed. Good intentions inspire greater and greater components that all seem to be malleable enough to be fitted together to build the vehicle that will convey the dream of everyone to fruition. In the end the accomplishment becomes the vindication that the dream was worth the time and sweat that was required and given by all involved. The world, or at least a larger part of it, heard the voice of a few crying out for the voices of the many that were trapped in the silence of distance and out of sight. A difference was made! Artists inspirations became the inspirations of the people!