The essence of a work of art – the energy that it holds and conveys – is why it speaks to you, which is why you call it art. Right? It’s the age-old debate about what makes something “art”. This is what I think makes it “art”…at least it’s where I’m landing now.
Something bigger than the artist runs through them and into their work. Some sort of magic.
I believe what you’re responding to – whether you like it or not, or whether it sparks an emotion in you – is the energetic imprint that comes through the artist and into the work. The artist is in partnership with the Divine.
And once that energetic hits you it either sparks something or it doesn’t. And that is about both you and the frequency you’re at, and the artist and the frequency they were transmitting through and into the work.
That’s how I see it. At least right now. What do you think? I’m interested in knowing.
I think that’s why copies fall flat. Copying work does not capture or transmit the essence of it.
When someone copies, it can technically be accurate. It can be objectively beautiful. But it can’t channel the energy, the je ne sais quoi, of the original work. So that work will fall flat. It will not move you. The artist of the copy used their mind, rather than channeling magic.
I was one class short of an art minor in college. This is one of the paintings I did back then. The assignment was to find a painting that we liked and copy it. I’m sorry that I don’t know the original artist.
The exercise was meant to build our technical skills and it was a worthwhile effort. I remember the parts I struggled with. I got better at painting by doing this assignment.
But when I look at this painting I feel the biggest lesson for me wasn’t the intention of our professor. Or maybe it was.
Sure, I can see the beauty of what I created and I can appreciate how it turned out. But does this piece get to me on a visceral level? No. When I look at it do I feel the same way as when I looked at the work by the original artist. No. And no one else does either, I bet. And that’s not about technique.
While I really like this painting I did, and I really nailed some techniques, I’ve never really felt proud of it. And I never understood why.
Several times throughout the years I have seen a painting that I loved and it was several hundred or thousands of dollars and I knew I could copy it. Have you ever said – “I could do that!” I liked the works I copied. They looked good. But it didn’t really FEEL good. Ya know? It felt flat.
There is a giant John Singer Sargent painting in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston - my absolute fav art museum. Plus there’s a great heist story about that place that makes it EVEN better to me! I love a good heist story. But I digress.
Back to the El Jaleo painting…it REALLY moves me. I have spent A.LOT. of time standing in front of that painting and taking it all in. I LOOOOOVE the way that piece makes me feel.
I have a general policy to never buy prints because I don’t feel anything when I look at a print. But I went against policy and bought that print.
It does spark a bit of the feeling of the original in me. I don’t think it’s coming through the print though. I think it’s a remnant imprint that my body stored from all the time I’ve spent with the original. Like when you hear a song that brings you right back to the emotions of the time associated with the song.
This print has hung in various homes of mine over the years and no one has ever commented on it. Except my husband who was troubled that I had a print in a fancy frame and wondered why – ha! I don’t think anyone has ever felt anything from it or appreciated it. I think that’s because the print doesn’t carry that divine essence.
This all makes me think about the AI talk that’s pervasive right now. Feels the same to me.
We humans can be fooled sometimes, for a period of time. Listen, I’ve been fooled by someone pretending to be something they really aren’t. Haven’t you?
But we can feel the truth on some level if we’re paying attention to the feelings in our body. When I stand in front of the original Sargent painting my body feels completely different from when I stand in front of my print. When I look at this watercolor painting I did in college, I don’t feel anything really. My brain has some thoughts about it, but I don’t feel anything in my body.
If we get quiet and listen, if we tune into our body and our emotions, we know the truth. We know the copy from the original. We can feel it. We can feel truth.
What does truth feel like to you?
In this world of rapidly evolving AI and social media, of copies and fakes, let’s not lose sight of the divine and what that feels like; of true human nature; of the partnership of the two. That partnership is what creates magic.
And we can feel magic.
And we can discern truth if we get quiet, listen and feel. Amen.
If you’re struggling to hear and feel the truth, I can help guide you to your inner knowing. I won’t tell you what your truth is. I don’t know that. But I do have tools to help you find it yourself. That’s my job. That’s my calling. Head over to my coaching page and schedule a call to talk about it.