WALLACEBURG ARTS: Does it tell a story?

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I have pondered the question, “What makes art, art?” in this column before. Recently I was given cause to reflect on that again.  

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WALLACEBURG ARTS: Does it tell a story? Back to video

Joni and I attended Western’s Faculty of Music for a brass day with a few band friends and I heard something that truly resonated with me. 

As we drove up with our friends Bill Hainer, Sarah Huang and Meighan Lung I reminisced a bit about what we called The Factory of Music (FOM) from my days at UWO. 

It is over 40 years since I wandered the halls of the FOM. There were a great many wonderful memories born there, most happened well outside the classes but around the faculty. 

A lot has changed of course: The FOM was torn down and completely rebuilt to house more students with a grand reopening in 2018. 

The moniker is now Western, not UWO, and very few staff are the same. Yes, there is a prof who is still there 40 years later! 

The brass day was wonderful. We had a variety of very useful experiences that informed and developed our skillsets as musicians and the day was capped by a truly wonderful recital by faculty members playing in a brass quintet joined at one point by the guest musician, James Miller, principal trombone for the Los Angeles Philharmonic.  

One of the instructors was discussing music that a group of us were working on and he noted the importance of telling the same story with the music. If the conductor and the performers are not on the same page regarding the interpretation of the charts the result is unsettling to the audience.  

And that was when I thought, “That is true with all art!” 

Perhaps that is the best response to the question, “Is that art?” Does it tell a story?  

When I direct a play, the first thing I do is look for the story that I want to tell. Not the words the playwright has formed together on the page, rather the way in which those words resonate with me and the vision it creates for me of a story about the relationships in the show. 

How the characters will interact, with each other, with the audience, with the words emotional ebb and flow of any good story. 

If my cast and I are not on the same page regarding the story telling, the show will miss the mark. Theatre is always the story of relationships.  

When I have attended, or been involved in, any play that leaves me feeling something is lacking, it is always that ability to tell a story that has fallen short.  

When I look at visual art, the same holds true. I find Troy Brooks art fascinating because there is always a story intricately woven into the brushstrokes. 

Once more, I am not aware of Troy’s story, but the art lends itself to infusing it with a story that resonates with me. 

Several years ago, Troy and I, and a few others created the CK Arthouse Project, and the project included artists creating images where a few works were selected and writers created stories inspired by that art. 

There were a variety of stories with the same art as the subject matter. While they were often remarkably different stories inspired by the same subject matter, none of them were wrong.  

I am not a big dance guy, I have attended some performances and watched some of the world’s greats in video, I’ve even directed many dance numbers in the SCITS Revue. But I am nowhere near an authority. 

I can appreciate the athleticism and talent it takes to create a stunning performance. I know when it looks good, crisp, moves with intention, is well-coordinated and has a focus, or story to tell. In the end that is what elevates great dancing from good – it tells a story through the movement.  

Great photography tells an entire story of an event even though the image is frozen in time. The photography of Larry Towell is world renowned because he can capture the essence of a story in a single shot. When I taught dramatic arts, I would take an envelope filled with pictures and have my students select one picture and create a scene around what they felt was the story in the picture. It was an often awe-inspiring creative exercise.  

That would be my assertion for the litmus test of “What is art?” If any art form fails to inspire us to create a story, then there is something lacking in it. 

Maybe that can be better described as the soul of art. The racks of mass-produced art at discount stores, the endless reboots and spinoffs in all live performances lack that soul and feebly endeavor to retell a story that was once significant. 

In the end, if you are looking at something that is called art and you wonder if it meets your litmus test for art, ask yourself if there is a story being told.