Some of the subway stops have pretty mosaics. This one is at the Columbia stop on 116th and Broadway. I think it is quite nice that art is intentionally placed down there in that glorified sewage pipe. I mean, rats don’t scurry over the tracks between trains like they do in the Boston tunnels, but it sure does smell bad. And it’s hot. All the more reason to lift people’s spirits by inserting art into the equation. I appreciate it.
And I appreciate the guy with dreadlocks who was playing a steel drum on 46th Street when my friend and I were looking for a place to stop for dinner.
And I appreciate the classical pianist whose passionate practice spilled out of the music room when I was walking down the hall on my classroom break.
And I appreciate the two violinists whose rehearsing filled the awkward library silence when I was highlighting my research materials.
And … at home I appreciate the tranformer boxes (or whatever they are) that have been wrapped in visual art, and the summer concerts in the park, and the offerings at the library, because somebody is always willing to teach you how to knit or salsa, if you want to learn.
The seal on the floor of the Guggenheim Museum reads, “Let each man exercise the art he knows” (Aristophanes, 422 BC). Exactly. Pick a way that YOU can make things more pleasant for everyone, and then go and do it. You can lift our spirits. Hurry up. We’re waiting.
This weekend, my graduate advisor (who is gorgeous and wears peacock feather headbands and green snakeskin stilettos) invited us to see her perform. She had recently joined a song and dance troupe called “Break Out in Song,” which performs spontaneous musicals around the city. You might have seen one of these types of numbers on youtube. (Hers is going to be on youtube, in fact, so I will attach the link when it is posted.) My friends and I all met up at the Intrepid, which is a docked aircraft carrier turned WWII museum. We went up to the deck of the carrier and waited among the helicopters and airplanes parked there. Of course, there were a lot of people walking around, looking at the vehicles. Suddenly, the music to “Anything Goes” bellowed from a speaker in the middle of innocent bystanders, and one by one the performers (who had been acting like museum patrons) joined in, making the group larger and more joyous. I have ALWAYS wanted to be in on one of those! I cannot believe I really got to see it.
It all worked perfectly except that one unsuspecting dude was knocked flat on the deck by a whirling dancer, bless his heart. He had no idea what was going on. (I got it on tape — ha).
I appreciated the art of that moment. I appreciated that people had paid to get into the museum, but they got a little musical number to boot. How nice when beauty shows up in interesting places. (I secretly like graffiti, especially on trains, but I know I might be in the minority there). It doesn’t have to be graphic art or performance art to be beautiful. I appreciate it when people engage in what they love and apply themselves completely to the endeavor. Playing baseball with all you’ve got is an art form. Being hospitable (I’m not talking about being like Martha, but REALLY making people feel happy to be where they are) takes artistic skill. Anything that must be done with the heart is artistic; living and loving well is a beautiful practice.
The thing is, if we are all going to do this for each other, if we are going get good at something and display it or play it for inspiration’s sake, if we are going to present the person next to us with the gift we have brought to the world, then we might need to turn off the TV.