What is an Artist?

The word, artist, has had its meaning and value worn off by excessive use–misuse, abuse–especially in the world of popular music–“recording artist.” An artist is someone with extraordinary sensibility, uncommon sensitivity. He senses that which the most of us miss. He sees what Picasso said, “the eye of habit misses.” The artist hears the wind, the creek, the Carolina wren, the tone of voice differently than we do. She sees shapes, colors, textures, contrasts, balance, and repeated patterns that ordinary people fail to notice. The artist detects emotional states that we who are insensitive are unaware of. This kind of sensitivity is necessary before one can be an artist, but it alone is not sufficient. Many non-artists sense the same things. Psychiatric counselors, mothers and other lovers, naturalists, and just plain folks may have the same sensibility that painters, poets, sculptors, dancers, or architects have, yet lack the rest of what it takes to become an artist. An artist is a person who has the kind of mind that can give definite form to what they sense. As he walks across the barnyard listening to the simultaneous sounds of clucking chickens, the wind suddenly gusting through the cottonwoods, and the resonant baritone of the friendly farmer, it all comes together in his head as the unified melody, harmony, rhythm and timbre of a concerto for string quartet. She listens to her sobbing friend’s story of moral failure and the consequent loss of family, and involuntarily finds herself composing a stage play: the setting, characters, number of acts and scenes fall rapidly into place, along with costumes and dialogue. The drama would somewhat parallel the anguish of her friend’s story, but would not at all be a literal re-presentation of what she has heard. A poet might hear the same story and work it into a sestina-form poem. It is not that the artist has a more intelligent mind than others, rather, the artist has a mind that works in a different way, just as an accountant has a mind that works in a unique way. Again, although this kind of mind is a necessary element in the makeup of an artist, it alone is not enough. The artist is a person who has developed skill in the manipulation of some medium of communication: the fingering of the violin, piano, flute, or banjo; the handling of a paintbrush and an eye for mixing and applying pigments; the construction of sentences, the language of rhetoric, the ear for linguistic rhythm and harmony. These are only a few of the possible useful skills, but without them, a person can be sensitive to all sorts of subtleties, and be able to form in their mind a genuine work of art, yet if they cannot translate the mental image into a tangible form, they will never become an artist. On the other hand, they may have, as many popular singers, writers, and painters do, excellent skills in manipulating their chosen medium, and thus become a virtuoso. And perhaps therefore, become known as an “artist.” These three characteristics that I have named as necessary elements in the makeup of an artist are not original with me. I read these ideas somewhere almost forty years ago, and have never been able to give proper credit to the source. Meanwhile, I have bought into it. Almost completely. My memory is that the original source claimed that the possession of these three characteristics constituted a person as an artist. I take issue with this conclusion. I do concur that all three–unique sensibility, unique kind of intelligence, and skill with a medium of communication–are necessary elements in the makeup of an artist, they are not sufficient. One additional element is necessary: the person must actually produce a work of art. They must take it from the heart and mind and actually use their skill to produce. I suspect we would be surprised at how much and how great would be the art that might have been produced by those who had these three essential elements, but never gave them actual form. With some, they intended to do it, but procrastination or laziness kept it from ever being realized. Others were so overwhelmed with responsibility for their family or others that there was neither time nor energy left to pursue art. Some sensed a divine calling and made good use of these characteristics in a spiritual ministry to others. Many an artist has forsaken all sorts of responsibilities, sacrificed all sorts of values so they could devote themselves to their art. I don’t know how to judge their decision. Facing conflicting values and commitments, some chose art, others chose to ignore art. Thus, some artists, some great artists, lived with a broken soul. Some, people of character, highly respected and responsible, lived with a frustration that no one ever knew. No one can have it all.