Thesis: Before WWII, there was a consensus as to what art was great, and there was a process in place for new works to be welcomed into the canon. Today, there is still a consensus as to what was great art before WWII, but there is little consensus as to what great art has been produced since. In essence, the canons are closed, no famous works are being created, and no new artists welcomed into the pantheon of geniuses.
The big exception to this thesis, which I would like to discuss first, is movies. Movies and the people still become famous and are known and loved by all classes of society. If one wishes to be known as a great artist in 2004, perhaps the only path left is film: director, producer, screenwriter, set designer, actor, and—above all else—star.
Further, every year our society honors motion pictures and their creators with awards and festivals genuinely valued by the Folk: the Oscars, the Golden Globes, Cannes, etc. Moreover, movies are not soon cast away by society, but rather are valued for an extended period and considered true art: The Godfather, etc.
Now, before we look at the pitiable state of the other arts, some readers might suggest that other exceptions exist: namely, TV shows, popular music, and novels. However, none of these makes the grade.
TV shows are a close cousin to motion pictures, and, insofar as they do make an impression and last, I am content to include them in the category of “movie” above. Most shows, however, are explicitly throwaway entertainment and subsist after their cancellation solely by the power of nostalgia. “Friends” is popular now, it will be somewhat nostalgically popular 20 or 30 years from now, and it will be utterly forgotten 100 years from now.
Still, we must recognized that visual entertainment, whether made for the big or small screen, is what gains fame and a chance to last in our society. Further, it can enter the canon.
What about popular music? Some popular music is truly great art. Further, many pop stars are famous—so what’s the problem? The problem is quite simple: tastes in music have become so fragmented that few songs or singers are loved by enough people to make it into the canon. Further, the most famous bands these days try to appeal only to the very young (Britney, etc.), which means that adults are not taking their music seriously (whether it is good or not). Bands simply don’t become as famous (qualitatively and quantitatively) as the Beatles did, and our society does not canonize particular songs as it once did “Three Coins in the Fountain.”
Novels. Again I will not doubt that good books are being written, and certain books can sell quite well. Again, the problem is that they are not making into the canon. A hundred years from now school kids will be reading The Great Gatsby, but they will not be reading any book written in the last 50 years.
OK, there are a few more recent authors that might make it: Vonnegut, whoever. I have nothing against modern writers; in fact, it’s sad that so much talent goes unnoticed. The point is simply that society does not have a process in place to digest it all.
There is room for argument regarding these three exceptions, but regarding the rest of the arts we will now consider, I think there is none: the arts are dead, the canons closed, and the artists themselves bereft of hope for fame or riches.
Orchestral music. We might as well start with the worst. I can’t imagine anything sadder than being a composer today, whose sole hope must be to write music for—you guessed it—movies. Most composers, I should think, never even get to hear their compositions played by a real orchestra. What was the last piece truly to enter the canon? Hmm. Something by Schoenberg, maybe. Stuff by Wolpe or Stockhausen has never really made it, despite its goodness.
Poetry. At least you can’t really fake composition. Any human or animal can pretend to be a poet. Poetry occupies a hellish niche on the web, in which idiots posing as experts beat the genuinely talented over the head with their book of dogma. All the while, no one else gives even half a damn. The two best-selling poets of the last 50 years are Rod McKuen and Jewel, who, because they were popular, are reviled by the academics. Rest in peace, poetry.
Painting. Painters are luckier than most, in that they can actually sell their work and know that it is being enjoyed by someone. Why is it that society stopped recognizing painters as great back in the day of Klee et al.? I have no explanation, do you? Again, it’s not for lack of talent.
Theater. Everyone knows the sad state of Broadway these days, in which only mega-big musicals and Disney cavalcades can succeed. One in a while a real play gets produced and enjoyed, such as Proof, but what non-musical show in the last 30 years has really lasted (that was not a movie to begin with or gained lasting popularity precisely because it became a movie)? Nothing comes immediately to mind. I read a stat in the last few years that only 12 or so writers are able to make a living by writing for Broadway.
And so on for dance, architecture, whatever. Now, I want your opinions, but I’d prefer not to get into a vicious argument about the details. I want you to see the big picture with me and try to explain how things got this way. If we were to go back to 1930, for example, things would not seem this way: anyone even mildly educated could have told you who the big poets, composers, novelists, songwriters, and painters of the day were, and there would have been this sense of continuation, of continued contribution, that we have, except in the case of movies, utterly lost.
Why? And where do we go from here? I have some ideas, but I’d like to hear yours first.