Violence in art
Jul. 29th, 2012 12:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkatSometimes you find bits of insight in unexpected places...
From The Duke of Shadows by Meredith Duran
The heroine has painted her horrific experiences during the violent India uprising against the British in the 1800s. Her cousin showed them to an Earl and art lover who is giving a ball to display them. In this bit they are arguing over whether the art should ever be seen and if it is art. The artist is ashamed of them, the Earl disagrees.
I've been wondering at violence in art and whether it should be depicted and the consequences of such. But it occurs to me as it always has to a degree...and I know this to be true - that art is but a reflection of our culture, ourselves, our society. The artist reflects what they see, what they know, what haunts them. They comment on it through their art.
Art holds a mirror up to us, shows us who we are. And forces us to question the reflection that we have been shown. Or so I think.
Meredith Duran is Eurasian. Interesting, the more modern romance novelists are of various cultures and creeds. I've read a lot of minority writers and various writers from other lands in this genre, or immigrants to the US.
From The Duke of Shadows by Meredith Duran
The heroine has painted her horrific experiences during the violent India uprising against the British in the 1800s. Her cousin showed them to an Earl and art lover who is giving a ball to display them. In this bit they are arguing over whether the art should ever be seen and if it is art. The artist is ashamed of them, the Earl disagrees.
Earl Lockwood: "These works are the products of an athletic mind."
Emma Martin: "All the same, I cannot show them. They are - good, yes. For what they are. But they are also..." She shook her head. "Not for display."
"So you believe that art is meant only to be decorative?"
He could not have picked a more precise rejoinder. She bit her lip. "Let us be frank, sir. They would think me mad."
"I admit I am surprised to find you remarkably sane. But there you have it. It was a demon who held your eyes open, and an angel who gave you the strength to bear what you must witness."
"You should not make poetry of it."
"Then what use is art, Miss Martin? Should we pain only country scenes?"
She glanced back to the paintings. "I would like to paint something happier. I have started to do so. " She decided suddenly to continue with honesty. "Unfortunately, it seems I can't manage it with nearly the same skill."
"Perhaps you must first surrender these," he said gently. "Once they belong to the world, their claim on you may weaken."
Still she hesitated. "They would not thank me for showing their war heroes thus."
"And that is exactly why you must show these. No one else will do so." His voice dropped, for her ears alone. "So few have justice. So few have the means to exact it. These scenes deserve to be witnessed."
I've been wondering at violence in art and whether it should be depicted and the consequences of such. But it occurs to me as it always has to a degree...and I know this to be true - that art is but a reflection of our culture, ourselves, our society. The artist reflects what they see, what they know, what haunts them. They comment on it through their art.
Art holds a mirror up to us, shows us who we are. And forces us to question the reflection that we have been shown. Or so I think.
Meredith Duran is Eurasian. Interesting, the more modern romance novelists are of various cultures and creeds. I've read a lot of minority writers and various writers from other lands in this genre, or immigrants to the US.