The Work : Art and Beauty as Acts of Resistance

by Michael Rich

“This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.”

Toni Morrison

The above quote from an article that the Nobel Prize-winning novelist, Toni Morrison, wrote for the Nation in 2015, resurfaced this past week and has been circulating on the internet. (read the full article here) Morrison, recalled her despair and inability to write after the 2004 reelection of George W Bush and the insistence of a writer friend that this is “precisely the time when artists go to work.” Seeing the quote again was a kick in the pants for this artist who has been paralyzed in the studio by the nervousness and apprehensions of this election cycle in which we all have lived lifetimes in the last 100 days. Of course, this is our time, as artists, this is what we are called for.

The other quote I saw last week that resonated was from Henry Rollins, front man of the 1980’s California Punk band, Black Flag:

“ This is not a time to be dismayed. This is punk rock time, this is what Joe Strummer trained you for. It is now time to go. You’re a good person. That means more now than ever.”

Again, a kick in the pants, no time for self-pity. Joe Strummer and the Clash, that’s my generation. The band that was a thorn in the side of the Thatcher administration and whose cassettes were lodged in my old car in high school, inspired a generation of politically conscious youth to pick up their guitars and pens to inspire change. Theirs was not a message of grievance but one of injustice and the call to create change for the better - the work that artists are built to do.

It’s easy to despair. We have witnessed a cynical, predatory campaign of grievance, lies, division, greed and fear that demonized the most vulnerable in our society. On the other hand was campaign of joy and pragmatism that promised hope and an inclusive way forward delivered by a messenger with grace, class and empathy. I will be digesting for a long time the unfathomable outcome that more than half this country chose the darker message. I am clear-eyed more than ever that the politics of hate and selfishness has taken hold and that the fight is on for a future that is more just and reflects the better angels of our nature. There is work ahead.

But what is my work?

I know from my non-profit work, that building community among artists is going to be really necessary as we work to support one another in our creativity and use that creativity as a force for good. I know that in my classroom, I will continue the ongoing and necessary work of helping students to find their voices through art in a way that upholds the principles of equity and inclusion. I will continue to urge them to use that voice to create the world they want to see.

In the studio, it’s a different kind of work. Having taken a much-needed break from the never-ending news cycle, I’ve gone back to reading more, listening to music. The thing I was put on this earth to do, to shape colors on a canvas into something beautiful somehow seems more vital. I’ve never been a political artist, choosing rather to focus on nature and the landscapes of memory through color in a search for resonance, implied meaning. Beauty or a search for beauty is my political act. I’m reminded of a talk by Jack Kornfield where he says that “Sometimes the greatest political act is to turn off CNN and to turn on Mozart.” (Jack Kornfield, Uncovering Life’s Beauty with Poetry and Art) So as I see it, beauty is an act of resistance, an antidote to the ugliness and bitterness of our time. The opposite of the closed fists we have been facing is to stand with an open heart, to open ourselves up to the mystery and beauty around us. We start to loose sight of that and we start to loose our humanity, our spirit, our understanding of a place beyond division and rancor.

On the drawing table now

Is beauty enough?

In graduate school in Savannah, I struggled with this idea quite a bit. The abstract painting language that I was cultivating, seemed born of the abstract expressionism of a different time. I was trying to squeeze the beauty of the landscapes I had known into fields of color and mark in a way that felt original and coming up short. I asked a professor, Suzanne Jackson, who later became a friend and mentor, if the work I was doing was justified - was I on a good path? Her reassurance that if the work felt authentic to me, if I found beauty in it, then it was not only timely but necessary. I’ve held to that as a guiding principle and have never really looked back. I hold on to the belief that beauty is always worthwhile and worth fighting for. So I paint, I plant and I love a little harder. That is the work.

Toni Morrison ended her essay with the following:

“I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge—even wisdom. Like art.”

Autumn Leaves, 2024, oil on canvas, 50 × 59in

Thanks for reading, I’ll be back to writing more frequently now as we have finally settled into the new home and studio. Big things are in the works here at 3 Gables - I will keep you posted.

Stay strong.

Michael