When I was last in London, my wife and I visited a gallery of Modern Art. The most expensive piece, with a price tag of £17,625.00 ($34,989.00), was a video by the internationally celebrated photographic artist Susan Derges. I was intrigued: what could be so remarkable about this video? So I asked the lady behind the desk if I could be shown the video. She promptly came with the video remote and pressed a few buttons.
The machine switched on and a countdown of four minutes started. I asked her if this was it and she replied that as soon as the four minutes were over the video would begin. After four minutes the screen went blank. The lady assisting me was baffled, so she called a colleague over, who assured me that he could start the video. “But don’t worry,” he added, “the video is probably quite meaningless, like much of the stuff around here.”
He too pressed a few buttons and the countdown began again on the screen. Both members of staff now looked at me, puzzled. “Maybe this is all it is,” they said. I was unconvinced, so I asked them if I could try to get the video working. Lo and behold, when I pressed the play button, the video began. It was most impressive. It showed patterns moving in a circular motion at an increasing speed until finally they formed into a cohesive rectangular pattern.
This incident made quite an impression on me. It was obvious that although the staff members of the gallery spent many hours surrounded by art, they did not have the slightest appreciation for it. For them most of the pieces were “meaningless”.
It occurred to me that our appreciation for art is not dissimilar to our appreciation of life. In my opinion, the beauty of art, modern art in particular, is that it leaves much for the viewer to appreciate in his or her own way. It does not dictate how we should interpret the art.
This allows us – the viewers – to take the creativity of the artist to the next stage. So although the artist may have finished creating his or her piece of art, the creativity that his or her work will induce in the mind of its viewers continues. Some viewers will recognize this opportunity for individual collaboration with the artist. Others will see the art just in a superficial way and so will miss out on the chance of a richer experience and deeper understanding.
Life is like art in this way. Life can be lived either on a shallow level, seeing things as they are on the surface only, or at the deeper level that permeates every aspect of existence. Many people live for the here and now. They do not have long-term goals or plans and as long as they are fulfilling their current needs and desires they seem happy. Even if they do have long-term goals, those aims are often limited to material things – the big house, the prestigious model of car, the luxury holiday. There are some people, however, who are able to see and delve deep into life in its entire multi-layered, multi-colored richness.
When they look at a sunset they see beyond the romance of the moment; they see the secret of eternity. They are able to tune into the innate creativity and profundity that everything around us has to offer. To these types of people each day is special; each moment is precious and filled with meaning. Every second offers an opportunity to delve deeper into reality – to see beyond the external veneer and to connect with the sublime. Yes, indeed, the art lover takes in the world in its fullness. To him or her nothing is ever meaningless.
This fundamental difference of approach is found in the Bible. When Jacob came to appease his brother Esau with many gifts, Esau said to Jacob (Genesis 33:9), “I have a lot, my brother, let what you have remain yours.” Jacob replied to his brother, saying (33:11), “Please accept my gift which was brought to you, considering that G-d has been gracious to me inasmuch as I have everything.” Esau, who lived life for the moment and saw the world superficially, said, “I have a lot.”
From his exoteric perspective he undeniably had a lot – but he did not have everything. Esau was missing the deeper reality. He had the material pleasures of the world but lacked insight into the sublime aspects of life. He lacked spirituality. Jacob, on the other hand, lived his life for a higher purpose and saw the world in its entirety. He lacked nothing. Hence he was able to say, “I have everything.”
It is our challenge not to remain one-dimensional. We must become lovers of fine art. We must train ourselves to look beneath the surface of life and see the deeper truth in it. That depth is there for all of us to examine and enjoy. All we need to do is take the time and make the effort to look for it. Let us remember that life really is what we make of it.
Rabbi Levi Brackman is executive director of Judaism in the Foothills
and the author of numerous articles on a whole range of topics and issues, many of which can be found on his website
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