The Man or The Artist
I'm really upset right now, because I inexplicably came down with a cold Monday night and it cause me to miss the Platinum Pied Piers at the Social in Orlando. I was looking forward to that concert for about a month, only to have those plans foiled by a sore throat and stuffy nose. Not to mention, this idiotic cold had me up at like 6:45am, which is just unacceptable.
Anyways, I'm up and thinking about music and thinkin about Woody Allen.
(Speaking of Jews, I've already seen, like, 3 SportsCenters, so I've switched to MTV and I believe I'm watching an orthodox Jew doing reggae. I swear. His name is Matiysahu or something. Either way, it's disorienting.)
Now, I'm no Allen-expert or Allen-super-fan; but I've seen most of his movies and find them generally entertaining. The other day, I was watching Bullets Over Broadway with Cusack, Tilly, Palminterri -- among others. It's one of my favorites, hilarious. There's this one scene where Cusack, his girlfriend (played by Louise-Parker) some other people and Rob Reiner are sittin at a sidewalk cafe talkin about life, love, art and all that; and doing so all poetically and insightfully. Anyways, a question is posed: "Do you fall in love with the man or do you fall in love with the artist? And if you fall in love with artist, is that wrong?"
Reiner is the alpha character at the table, because he's the oldest and fattest and loudest. He says that it's absolutely acceptable and right for someone to fall in love with artist. He basically said art is, if nothing else, at least tantamount to actual life -- at least thats how I took it. He then posed one of the most intriguing questions I've heard: "If you were in a burning building and had the chance to save the last known transcripts of Shakespeare plays or some anonymous man; who or what would you save?"
That's an ill question, right? I mean, part of being a true Christian is appreciating the sanctity of life. But I gotta admit, if it was 1988 I saw some random person in a burning building -- especially if they were caucasian -- and there was some disc or tape that would end up being It Takes a Nation of Millions...I'd have to think about it. That album is really, really important. What if it was the early 70s and some WASP, or perhaps and El Salvadorian, were trapped under a heap of rocks after an avalanche and by moving a stack of Spielberg scripts the human dies, but by removing the human, the scripts are lost forever...that's a tough one. And don't let the extra-bigotry fool u into the thinkin that I'm jokin about these. What if it's the 40s and some snaggle tooth nigra was tied to the train trax because he shaboinked some white broad; and I had time to untie Russel or untie some grainy Charlie Parker recordings that would lead to the modern jazz language? Does art trump that nigra's life?
No, it doesn't. I'm saving the WASP or El Salvo or Nigra, but the fact that I'd even think about saving an innanimate object first is telling. thats a powerful dilemma right there.
Anyways, I'm up and thinking about music and thinkin about Woody Allen.
(Speaking of Jews, I've already seen, like, 3 SportsCenters, so I've switched to MTV and I believe I'm watching an orthodox Jew doing reggae. I swear. His name is Matiysahu or something. Either way, it's disorienting.)
Now, I'm no Allen-expert or Allen-super-fan; but I've seen most of his movies and find them generally entertaining. The other day, I was watching Bullets Over Broadway with Cusack, Tilly, Palminterri -- among others. It's one of my favorites, hilarious. There's this one scene where Cusack, his girlfriend (played by Louise-Parker) some other people and Rob Reiner are sittin at a sidewalk cafe talkin about life, love, art and all that; and doing so all poetically and insightfully. Anyways, a question is posed: "Do you fall in love with the man or do you fall in love with the artist? And if you fall in love with artist, is that wrong?"
Reiner is the alpha character at the table, because he's the oldest and fattest and loudest. He says that it's absolutely acceptable and right for someone to fall in love with artist. He basically said art is, if nothing else, at least tantamount to actual life -- at least thats how I took it. He then posed one of the most intriguing questions I've heard: "If you were in a burning building and had the chance to save the last known transcripts of Shakespeare plays or some anonymous man; who or what would you save?"
That's an ill question, right? I mean, part of being a true Christian is appreciating the sanctity of life. But I gotta admit, if it was 1988 I saw some random person in a burning building -- especially if they were caucasian -- and there was some disc or tape that would end up being It Takes a Nation of Millions...I'd have to think about it. That album is really, really important. What if it was the early 70s and some WASP, or perhaps and El Salvadorian, were trapped under a heap of rocks after an avalanche and by moving a stack of Spielberg scripts the human dies, but by removing the human, the scripts are lost forever...that's a tough one. And don't let the extra-bigotry fool u into the thinkin that I'm jokin about these. What if it's the 40s and some snaggle tooth nigra was tied to the train trax because he shaboinked some white broad; and I had time to untie Russel or untie some grainy Charlie Parker recordings that would lead to the modern jazz language? Does art trump that nigra's life?
No, it doesn't. I'm saving the WASP or El Salvo or Nigra, but the fact that I'd even think about saving an innanimate object first is telling. thats a powerful dilemma right there.
posted by Twistinado @ 8:13 AM
1 Comments:
At 1:02 PM,
Anonymous said…
i like that especially because if you choose to save the art, you ought to be left to wonder what great works that human life you didn't save may have survived to produce.
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