Art. Such a simple word at face-value, yet those three conjoined letters don't begin to scratch the surface of its true meaning. If you were to ask ten random people what their definition of art was, chances are you'd receive ten different responses. Whether it be a film, a song, a book, or a portrait, art is built upon emotion and nuance. Regardless if a painter or an author envisioned a similar message when concocting their work as was received by a consumer, that doesn't dismiss said consumer's thoughts and feelings when indulging in the piece.
Art touches on our humanity in a way nothing else can. It seems to magically bring together our wretched past, our rocky present, our hopeful future, and our perhaps unattainable yet lingering dreams. Whether a song brings back sad memories of our father's passing or brings back happy memories of our college graduation, art possesses a significant power over us, ironically touching us personally when the composer likely knew nothing about us. Similarly, the odds are high all we truly know about the artist is their art, so exactly when and where does such a relationship begin and end? Is there a right answer, or like art, is it built upon nuance?
I bring this up in light of recent revelations regarding R&B icons R. Kelly and Michael Jackson. The pair have been the focal points in recently aired documentaries, where individuals have spoken up in alleging the two stars sexually abused them when they were minors. Kelly has gone on to face charges relating to these alleged crimes. Jackson is no longer with us, so while the courts will ultimately decide on Kelly's level of guilt, we'll never hear that side of things with regard to Jackson. In response to the allegations, multiple radio stations have barred the stars' music. A petition is going around to bring a Michael Jackson musical in Vegas to a halt. I've read reports of people throwing away their R. Kelly and/or Michael Jackson albums or, at the very least, promise to never listen to their music again.
I, for one, have never been big into R. Kelly's music, and while I'll admit to having enjoyed several of Michael Jackson's songs, I've rarely listened to him unless a song of his gets played on the radio or a jukebox. Having said that, I'm also not going to look down upon a person for continuing to listen to their music. I mean, who am I to judge? The fact of the matter is a great number of entertainers throughout history were extremely flawed individuals. From Charlie Chaplin to R. Kelly, from Elvis Presley to Michael Jackson, and beyond, we've been consistently subjected to ugly-at-their-core individuals presenting us with beautiful works of art. Chances are art was the way said individuals were able to battle their inner-demons without inflicting harm upon themselves or others. So why must we deprive ourselves of a beautiful work since it comes from a damaged person? Why is that onus on us?
There's nothing wrong with protesting an entertainer for whatever reason a person sees fit, but I don't see anything wrong with continuing to enjoy said individual's art. If someone sees a problem with this, my question is, how far do we dig and when do we stop? Considering the fact no person is perfect, when does the slippery slope of protesting entertainers due to their imperfections stop? Where's that perfect dividing line? Is a certain act morally okay since it was legal back in the 1920s, but isn't moral today due to its illegality? Are these morals absolute regardless of the time period? I don't have an answer to these questions and I have a hunch that, like with art, there is no perfect answer. Regardless of what the growing trend on the subject seems to be, I, for one, am not going to judge a person for continuing to consume the art of a damaged individual. At the end of the day, what good does it do us and the world to deprive ourselves of potentially the lone beauty a person ever produced? Just because an artist committed egregious wrongs during his or her life doesn't make a consumer wrong for feeling the power of their art.
Art touches on our humanity in a way nothing else can. It seems to magically bring together our wretched past, our rocky present, our hopeful future, and our perhaps unattainable yet lingering dreams. Whether a song brings back sad memories of our father's passing or brings back happy memories of our college graduation, art possesses a significant power over us, ironically touching us personally when the composer likely knew nothing about us. Similarly, the odds are high all we truly know about the artist is their art, so exactly when and where does such a relationship begin and end? Is there a right answer, or like art, is it built upon nuance?
I bring this up in light of recent revelations regarding R&B icons R. Kelly and Michael Jackson. The pair have been the focal points in recently aired documentaries, where individuals have spoken up in alleging the two stars sexually abused them when they were minors. Kelly has gone on to face charges relating to these alleged crimes. Jackson is no longer with us, so while the courts will ultimately decide on Kelly's level of guilt, we'll never hear that side of things with regard to Jackson. In response to the allegations, multiple radio stations have barred the stars' music. A petition is going around to bring a Michael Jackson musical in Vegas to a halt. I've read reports of people throwing away their R. Kelly and/or Michael Jackson albums or, at the very least, promise to never listen to their music again.
I, for one, have never been big into R. Kelly's music, and while I'll admit to having enjoyed several of Michael Jackson's songs, I've rarely listened to him unless a song of his gets played on the radio or a jukebox. Having said that, I'm also not going to look down upon a person for continuing to listen to their music. I mean, who am I to judge? The fact of the matter is a great number of entertainers throughout history were extremely flawed individuals. From Charlie Chaplin to R. Kelly, from Elvis Presley to Michael Jackson, and beyond, we've been consistently subjected to ugly-at-their-core individuals presenting us with beautiful works of art. Chances are art was the way said individuals were able to battle their inner-demons without inflicting harm upon themselves or others. So why must we deprive ourselves of a beautiful work since it comes from a damaged person? Why is that onus on us?
There's nothing wrong with protesting an entertainer for whatever reason a person sees fit, but I don't see anything wrong with continuing to enjoy said individual's art. If someone sees a problem with this, my question is, how far do we dig and when do we stop? Considering the fact no person is perfect, when does the slippery slope of protesting entertainers due to their imperfections stop? Where's that perfect dividing line? Is a certain act morally okay since it was legal back in the 1920s, but isn't moral today due to its illegality? Are these morals absolute regardless of the time period? I don't have an answer to these questions and I have a hunch that, like with art, there is no perfect answer. Regardless of what the growing trend on the subject seems to be, I, for one, am not going to judge a person for continuing to consume the art of a damaged individual. At the end of the day, what good does it do us and the world to deprive ourselves of potentially the lone beauty a person ever produced? Just because an artist committed egregious wrongs during his or her life doesn't make a consumer wrong for feeling the power of their art.
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