Art During Wartime

There's an excruciating duality to the reality of art during wartime. On one hand, the context and often the pretext required for consuming/making art during conflict or catastrophe makes the effort seem insultingly silly (the example of the quartet being forced to play as the lifeboats were loaded on the Titantic comes to mind). On the other hand, in the midst of the madness, sometimes art is the only thing that can give a truly reassuring glimmer of hope.

I note this in response to a heartbreaking story in the NYTimes this morning about the sense of loss throughout the Lebanese cultural community:

The war in Lebanon is now in its third week, freezing life in mid-flow. A summer season that looked as if it would be highly successful for tourism was suddenly interrupted, as were numerous music festivals, theatrical and movie openings and, because this is Beirut, wild parties. For Lebanon’s burgeoning cultural scene, the conflict has put a stop, at least for the moment, to the patient work begun after the civil war ended in 1990.

Now some movie theaters are opening their doors to refugees, artists are signing manifestoes against the war, commercial stations have turned into 24-hour news channels, and most restaurants and bars are closed. What was supposed to be Beirut’s first break after last year’s traumas — including the assassination of Rafik Hariri, the former prime minister — has been shattered.

“This was to be a turning point for us after years of hard work,” said Mr. Abdel Baki, 36, whose label produces both 10th-century Andalusian music and modern fusions of bossa nova and Arab rhythms. “But in 24 hours your life is suddenly turned upside down. Even if this stops now, who is going to have the energy and the stamina to produce music, organize a concert or even attend a show?”

That sentiment (that this was supposed to be a turning point) is echoed repeatedly by the participants of the arts community quoted in the article:

“The city was thriving,” said Ramsey Short, the British editor in chief of Time Out Beirut, a four-month-old publication that had become an indispensable tool to navigate Beirut’s busy cultural and entertainment scene.

The July issue, with its cover story on Lebanon’s summer festivals and its 114 pages, has become a memento of a time that never happened: all the events and shows have been canceled. The next issue has been postponed until further notice.

“Just like that, it’s all gone,” Mr. Short said. “And I don’t think we’ll return to that world any time soon.”

[...]

“I feel stupid because I was so optimistic,” said Carole Ammoun, a 27-year-old actress who had been performing in a local version of Eve Ensler’s “Vagina Monologues,” called here “Hakeh Nesswan,” or “Women’s Talk.” The play, which was originally scheduled for five nights, had been extended for three months straight.

The image at the top is from the blog of a Lebanese artist, Mazen Kerbaj, who offers a truly gut-wrenching diary of what it's like to try and make art during the ongoing carnage. In one post where he gives notice that he doesn't want to be contacted anymore for interviews, because "everything i am asked is already on the blog" he tries (a little in vain, I think) to separate his art from the politics of what's happening in his country:

PLEASE DO NOT POST ANY POLITICAL COMMENT ON THIS BLOG.THIS IS BLOG DEDICATED TO ART.AND AS SUCH, IT VOMITS ON ANYTHING CALLED POLITICS.

Still, in her art-house movie theater which, tragically, had its grand opening just the day before the war started and which now serves mostly as shelter for refugees from the bombed-out suburbs, Hania Mroué is making the most of it and trying to screen films at least earlier in the day:

Last Monday she decided to reopen the theater to the public for daily screenings at 6 p.m.: early enough, she said with grim Lebanese humor, so the audience can go home before the bombing begins.

“It’s important to be able to talk about other things than Israel and Hezbollah,” said Ms. Mroué, 31, whose soft features belie her steeliness. “We will have all the time to analyze, to argue and even to cry about all this later. This is why theaters like this are important: so that you can live, even during a war.”

We take the "art world" so deadly serious in certain circles, treating relatively inconsequential set-backs and such as if they were somehow catastrophic, often losing site of the fact that it's really only the art that matters, not the the acclaim or celebrity or the money or the petty positioning. Among those things, only the art can make any sense of the savagery, providing some reason to dare to dream again.

I see this morning that Rice is suggesting a cease-fire is within reach. May God grant those making the decisions the wisdom to make it so.