Letters to Ukraine – 2

For Woody Allen, life doesn’t imitate art; it imitates bad television.  Has modern art begun to imitate that medium too, emulating the accessibility and sensationalism of TV?  I don’t say that art can’t, or shouldn’t, entertain; it’s just that “entertainment” has become a commodity, mass-produced for mass consumption.  A diluted culture neglects artists who convey complex social messages or embody hard-hitting archetypes, preferring instead the familiar, wishy-washy comforts of personality.  Notice how many modern “actors” simply play heightened versions of themselves on screen.  The media, instead of asking philosophers or artists to discuss our condition, pursue sound bites from celebrities (yes, I myself opened with Woody).  Meanwhile, novelists want best-sellers with lucrative film rights, poets try to get on the late show to feel less invisible, and dissenters must settle for aficionado audiences or grinding anonymity.  True, powerful art can still have popular appeal, as sand animator Kseniya Simonova proves — though she’d need to sing pop to win anything on British TV.  We’re close to becoming the generation of the entertained.  One way out, if we actually want it, would be to give artists who stick thorns in our sides the same commitment we reserve for the massagers of funny bones.