In Times of Darkness, Artists Make Light

One evening last week I gathered a group of artists—visual artists, musicians, writers, performers—to have a conversation about how we can maintain our practices under a regime that has chosen to destroy culture.

I called it Making Light: A Conversation with Artists on Sustaining Creativity, Courage, and Connection in Difficult Times. It was successful, at least as far as my goals were met—to start the conversation. And we will continue to meet, continue to talk, continue to try and support each other.

Part of the challenge is practical. The federal government has a long history of supporting arts and culture through myriad programs—the National Endowment for the Arts, the National Endowment for the Humanities, the Institute of Museum and Library Services, the President’s Committee on the Arts and the Humanities, the US State Department’s Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, the US Department of Education’s Arts in Education, the Corporation for National and Community Service, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting—many if not most (or indeed, if not all) are being discontinued under the Trump regime’s apparent War on Everything Good.

image by Createasea for Unsplash

The other part of the challenge is more insidious. The arts aren’t just losing funding; they’re losing hope. How does one create beauty, or tell stories, or dance, when everything being done in our name, the name of all Americans, is nothing but cruelty and greed?

It’s a question we’re going to have to find answers to in the months and years to come.

And the answers will shift and change as we find new ways of creating, and of sharing what we create.

For me, what has kept me focused and hopeful has been, oddly enough, a writing accountability group I joined some months ago. For two hours every weekday we gather from all over the United States and Europe via Zoom. We share our writing goals for the session, then turn off our cameras and work, together and yet apart, for two hours. We come back together at the end of that time to reflect on our work.

image Kit for Unsplash

These writers all have very different projects. One is creating a textbook on weaving, another a nonfiction book on writing. There are people who use the time to do their Morning Pages, following the Cameron method. At least one spends the two hours on what seems to be an endless stream of newsletters. Several of us are working on fiction projects.

We all listen to each other, encourage each other, celebrate and commiserate together. And on the mornings when I wake up and wonder what the point is in keeping doing something that may not ever see the light of day, participating in this group has kept me believing that the work is worthwhile, and important.

In times of darkness, artists make light.

What the event last week underlined for me was the necessity of maintaining and supporting creativity, not just for our own sake (and sanity!) but especially for the unknown people who are the recipients of it: readers, visitors to art galleries, concert-goers, audiences. We’re not making light only for ourselves, but for hundreds if not thousands of people who will be touched by it. Who will have their spirits lifted, their fears overcome, their determination supported.

This country and this world need the light now more than ever. Together, we can find it, and nurture it, and embody it.

Which is what art, at its best, is all about.

image Sam Barber for Unsplash