Editor's Note, 3/26

As humans, we are forever trapped in only our own experience. We will never be able to truly and completely empathize with the thoughts and emotions of those around us, much less those who come after and before. At times, our relationship with art amuses me as a slightly absurd way of dealing with this incredible fear of missing out.

Take the reaction to Kendrick Lamar’s latest release, To Pimp a Butterfly. Almost immediately, news outlets everywhere labeled it as an “instant classic.” The phrase “instant classic” is hilarious. “Classic” denotes something that has withstood the years to be proven as timeless. By describing a current piece of art as “classic,” we supplant ourselves into the future, basically predicting that for years to come people continue to love and respect the work. We assume the work strikes a chord in a basic, constant human nature. Now, I think Kendrick’s latest is outstanding, and I hope it is powerful enough to hold the influence the term “instant classic” implies, but are we conceited enough to conclude that with it we can begin to understand and empathize with people we will never meet?

This all leads to the question: does art provide bridges into others’ experiences, or simply the illusion of them?

The very concept of a classic comes from us having appreciation for works that have come before our time. For us, this fact offers evidence of a timeless human understanding. If we can enjoy the past, then hopefully the future will find us interesting. Still, we really have no way of knowing if accepted classics were appreciated in their time for the same reasons for which they are valued today. Also, there are many artist who are not realized as classic or genre-defining until after their death. Possibly, a classic work simply resonates strongly with multiple emotions and experiences, therefore being popular with many people at any particular time.

Art is also a strange way to experience other lives because it is by nature subjective. It might communicate an experience or emotion, but every person’s experience of it is different. For instance, someone might listen to Tim Hecker because they enjoy the escapist feeling of cold and isolation his experimental noise brings, or they might just hate themselves. People perceive and use art differently. This goes back to how separate time periods may appreciate different aspects of a piece of art. There may be ancient plays or pieces of music that we would appreciate now but became lost in time because they were not judged as worthwhile at their inception.

Belief in a piece of art as classic or timeless is a way of dealing with the infinite, cold and unknowable expanses of time in the past and future. It helps soften the blow that comes with realizing that in hundreds of years our lives will be mostly insignificant. If our emotions and experiences are somewhat present in others, then we are relevant. It’s a way of dealing with, and, in a way, obsessing over the unknown.

This perversion with the unknown is showcased really well in the Clickhole video entitled “We Put A GoPro On Grandpa To See What Heaven Looked Like.” It pokes fun at videos advertising a whole new experience simply by watching a recording made from a camera attached to someone’s head. The video depicts a family watching their ailing grandfather. As he passes, they are more concerned about if the camera is on and recording. They quite clearly neglect their own experience in order to focus on something that is supposed to remain unknown.

I think that sometimes we use art in a similar manner. Enjoying a Shakespearean play does not connect you with people from four hundred years ago. Designating a film as an “instant classic” does not project your emotions for generations to come. Liking your crush’s favorite band does not show that you understand him or her. You just think they’re hot. More to the point, human experience is individual, unique and beautiful. It’s important to empathize with others, but I think too often pieces of art are regarded as quality because they are timeless or offer a window into a different lifestyle. To me, these factors are important, but in the end the subjective, distinct, fleeting personal experience is paramount. That aspect of our relationship with art is truly our own, and without it we are left grasping at the unknown.