Jonathan Delavan discusses the reasons why art holds such powerful sway over us and is thus a powerful key to one’s personal growth.
—
In addition to the impact of significant others, I quickly discovered the hidden power of art over the course of my personal journey thus far.
There is a mysterious yet potent quality to the aesthetic objects that make up the broad category of art, regardless of its medium or subject. Ever since the dawn of man, art in its various forms have held sway over our hearts and minds. Why is this so? Why do certain images and colors arranged in a particular way inspire us? Or a cacophony of sounds ordered into a rhythm moves us? Or a carved piece of stone immortalizes a person or concept in us? How can art do all of that in us time and time again?
To put it quite simply, art has this power over us because it affects us beyond our cognitive selves. Art can reach out and touch parts of us not under direct control of our conscious minds. It can do so because art does not operate on the level of rationality or pure logic. Rather, art is a manifestation and expression of ourselves on a more emotional level, I believe. Perhaps that is why some of humankind’s earliest creations were works of arts in the forms of paintings, pottery, statues, songs, stories, poetry, and architecture—long before man began to order and understand the world through philosophy, politics, or the sciences.
Considering works of art to be an emotional creation or expression, it’s no wonder that such products directly affects us on an emotional level; in as much as works of logic directly affects our minds and labors of the hands directly affects the physical world around us. Therein lies the inherent value and power of art and its importance in all our lives. Without art, we may very well cease to be human beings, becoming biological automatons lacking a spirit! Yes, that statement is an exaggeration, but only to make a valuable point:
Whether we like it or not, we are emotional beings as well as rational ones—and that goes for both men and women. To deprive or diminish this essential characteristic of humanity for either gender is to abandon or dismiss a vital quality of who we are—both individually as well as collectively.
♦◊♦
Perhaps an illustration would better demonstrate what I am trying to convey in this article. When thinking of an example to use, Henri Nouwen came to mind, more specifically, a passage from the beginning of his book The Return of the Prodigal Son:
A seemingly insignificant encounter with a poster presenting a detail of Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son set in motion a long spiritual adventure that brought me to a new understanding of my vocation and offered me a new strength to live it. At the heart of this adventure is a seventeenth-century painting and its artist, a first century parable and its author, and a twentieth-century person in search of life’s meaning…
One day I went to visit my friend Simone Landrien in the [L’Arche Daybreak] community’s small documentation center. As we spoke, my eyes fell on a large poster pinned on her door. I saw a man in a great red cloak tenderly touching the shoulders of a disheveled boy kneeling before him. I could not take my eyes away. I felt drawn by the intimacy between the two figures, the warm red of the man’s cloak, the golden yellow of the boy’s tunic, and the mysterious light engulfing them both. But, most of all, it was the hands—the old man’s hands—as they touched the boy’s shoulders that reached me in a place where I had never been reached before…
When I first saw the Prodigal Son, I had just finished an exhausting six-week lecturing trip through the United States, calling Christian communities to do anything they possibly could to prevent violence and war in Central America. I was dead tired, so much so that I could barely walk. I was anxious, lonely, restless, and very needy. During the trip I had felt like a strong fighter for justice and peace, able to face the dark world without fear. But after it was all over I felt like a vulnerable little child who wanted to crawl onto its mother’s lap and cry. As soon as the cheering or cursing crowds were gone, I experienced a devastating loneliness and could easily have surrendered myself to the seductive voices that promised emotional and physical rest.
It was in this condition that I first encountered Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son on the door of Simone’s office. My heart leapt when I saw it. After my long self-exposing journey, the tender embrace of father and son expressed everything I desired at that moment. I was, indeed, the son exhausted from long travels; I wanted to be embraced; I was looking for a home where I could feel safe. The son-come-home was all I was and all that I wanted to be. For so long I had been going from place to place: confronting, beseeching, admonishing, and consoling. Now I desired only to rest safely in a place where I could feel a sense of belonging, a place where I could feel at home.
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Henri traveled to St. Petersburg to see for himself the actual Rembrandt painting that impacted him so profoundly hanging in The State Hermitage Museum. In time, his personal growth and spiritual insights that were inspired from this single painted canvas would move him to write his own inspirational work titled The Return of the Prodigal Son.
Clearly, this particular painting deeply touched Henri on an emotional level that in turn spurred him to develop personally and eventually create his own works of art in the form of narrative and vibrant prose. Could he have been able to undergo such personal development and express himself in such a profound way if he did not encounter Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son? Or if he didn’t have an emotional reaction to the fine art? Maybe. But I don’t think he would have done so without that painting at that particular moment in his life—that is my belief.
♦◊♦
As for me, as I reflect on the various ways art has touched me and changed my life, I can recall a number of events and memories; many of which I’ll be sure to explore in future articles. One that comes to mind, though, as I write this article is my time living in Normandy, France over the summer of 2010. I stayed in the Norman city of Rouen for three straight months in order to learn French and earn college credit for it at the same time.
During my long sojourn in that beautiful city, I was surrounded and exposed to all sorts of art and aesthetic expressions. I can remember the impression of timelessness as I lingered in the medieval churches and cathedral that dotted the city. I can remember the sensation of peace and centeredness as I listened to the organ or pieces of classical music echo through those medieval churches. I can remember feeling mesmerized and inspired by the impressionist tableaus on display in the city’s art museum, especially Monet’s oeuvre, whose movement and subjects originated in Normandy. I can remember being delighted by the culinary art known as French cuisine that I could savor every day. I can remember the joy and exhilaration of exploring French literature and movies within the city’s bookstores and cinemas. I can remember feeling awed as I explored the hodgepodge of historical buildings and sites throughout the city and other parts of Normandy.
Such sentimental experiences are what made my time in France memorable and meaningful for me beyond merely earning a semester’s worth college credit. These experiences were sentimental and thus life-changing simply because they all involved art in one form or another, which gave me the opportunity to connect emotionally during those moments. If all I did was stick my nose in French textbooks and never personally interacted or experienced the vast French culture and history, my time in France would be no different than if I read an encyclopedia entry about it. Of course, art was not the only factor involved in all of those examples mentioned above, but it was a major one nonetheless.
♦◊♦
Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that art and its real yet mysterious effects has become incredibly important in this day and age of overwhelming information and digital stimulation. I say this because art, as I have discussed it, can hold the key for so much needed personal growth for a lot of men and women. I also believe that art is especially important for men in general as a real gateway into their emotional selves—identifying, understanding, and expressing their dormant emotions in meaningful and transformative ways.
I know this to be true for myself. Along the way, I have found the two arts of storytelling and music have been and continue to be the most profound mediums in my emotional life. As you may have noticed in my previous article, a good number of those significant others I alluded to were authors or singers/songwriters—that is no coincidence.
Again, I will go over more examples of what I discussed here in future posts. In the meantime, take some time to reflect on your own experiences with art you found meaningful at one time or another. Please feel free to share your thoughts and feelings below in the comments section.
—
Photo: Getty Images