Life and Art

I grew up hearing fairy tales, watching Perry Mason on TV, reading Charles Dickens novels. I played and listened to Bach on the organ and Beethoven on the piano, where all the tensions of the harmonies resolved, without exception, to the final glory of the I chord at the end. Later, I loved watching the Whistleblower movies— All the President’s Men, The Post, Fair Game, Erin Brockovich, Silkwood, Snowden, Spotlight and more and in the past five years, have been hooked on the TV crime series like Shetland, Endeavor, Vera, Unforgotten, Sandham Murders. I’m also a sucker for good mystery novels, from Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie to Sue Grafton, Laura Lippman, Louise Penny, Cara Black and Anthony Horowitz. 

 

All of the above have one thing in common— resolution. The bad guys (and gals) get caught and justice is served. Along the way is murder and mayhem and abuse and scandal and people’s lives hurt or destroyed and that, of course, is not happy. But at least there is the sense that those causing the havoc deserve to get caught and held accountable, leaving the viewer/ reader/ listener with the sense that evil is appropriately punished and good rewarded. And from the stories in those whistleblower movies that actually were true, sometimes life imitated art. (Think Watergate.)

 

But not now. The guard rails of civil society have been torn off the roads, the speed limit signs taken down, the highway patrolmen off duty and unfathomable chaos reigns, with no accountability. The whistles are blowing and either people are deaf to them or purposefully ignoring the ref's calls—Foul? Out of bounds? Off sides? Who cares? The bulls are set loose in the china shop, smashing the precious jewels of centuries of work to move the moral arc towards justice and close to half the country seem just fine with that. In fact, they elected for chaos to rule hoping their hamburger would be cheaper. 

 

My lifetime assurance that at the end, the bad guys get their just deserts, is steadily eroding. But I haven’t given up yet. In my life, I continue to offer classes that flow like music, with an enticing beginning, connected middle that makes sense and is shaped and designed for love and connection and beauty and moves steadily toward a satisfying end. In my encounter with art, I still watch those shows, read those books, listen to and play the musics that resolve as they should. 

 

My friends, it is time for life to imitate art. Now. Before it’s too late.