Art in difficult times

The Covid-19 pandemic has challenged most of us, our jobs, our ideas, how we relate to each other and has produced fear. Fear of the unknown, the safety of our health and that of our families. Yet, it has exposed the tenacity and adaptability of some of us working from home, or just trying to stay busy as we wait for the new normal. Many of us, are using art to keep moving creatively and humming along at what our new normal has become. Creating art has a history of helping us heal during times of great transformation individually and collectively. When we create art we are co-creating with that which is unknown a kind of negotiation with what is to come. We are uncertain, but most days we play along anyways. Our art a type of alchemy that can turn our victimhood into empowerment.

Empowerment differs for everyone and the “we are all in this together,” becomes exposed displaying the inequalities that have always been. This stark inequality was witnessed while I was buying flowers at the local parking lot garden center. Immersed in the beauty of the colors, the blue sky with the anticipation of spring, clear incandescent music suddenly filled the parking lot. At first, thinking it was coming from someone’s phone, or pumped from the grocery store speakers, yet soon realized this was clearer than any mass produced music from a speaker. It was violin music, playing something familiar an Ed Sheeran song, the verse took form:

“Fighting against all odds
I know we’ll be alright this time
Darling, just hold my hand
Be my girl, I’ll be your man
I see my future in your eyes”

I was surprised to see my daughter suddenly appear from behind the rows of flowers, which limited my view as I stood in the middle of the parking lot. She said there was a man playing violin music, he had a wife and young children and was packing up, that he had a sign that read something to the effect of “money for rent and food”, my daughter gave him two dollars, and he said “God bless.” I was completely taken back now not only by the music but by the reality of what had just happened. The inequality right before us, the vulnerability of this man gifting us his music and asking for some help. When I turned beyond the rows of flowers, the man, his family, his beautiful music were all gone. In an instant, I felt the contrast of this man’s art filling the parking lot with sound that had feeling and meaning to a sudden hollowing out or emptiness. This music or art was negotiating with what was to come, the words “fighting against all odds” and “I know we’ll be alright” was this man’s hope, but it felt like everyone’s hope that afternoon, a hope for a better tomorrow and a knowing that everything will be alright.