Painting by Johannes Vermeer

Since the Budget Act of 1974 went into force in 1976, the U.S. government has shut down 12 times due to disputes between the President and Congress (or the House and the Senate) over the national budget. Coincidentally, our son was born just prior to the eleventh shutdown when Bill Clinton was President. You might recall that a bit of a to-do arose at the time because the Smithsonian was hosting a show of Vermeer’s paintings- all of them, which was something that had been very difficult to arrange. Moreover, the nature of those arrangements suggested that all Vermeer’s painting would never again be all in one place. The extraordinary decision was made to keep the show open during the closure of the remainder of the government.

I know we liked Vermeer as we had a poster of The Little Street hanging in our home, but I do not recall how much of an impression the show made before the efforts were made to save it. Be that as it may, we confirmed that the swaddled babe was good for travel and we drove to Washington, D.C.

Wouldn’t you know? We were not the only people to have the idea of seeing the show. We had been to the Smithsonian before and we knew that you basically just wandered in and took a gander about. They were very welcoming (and we were young and oblivious). Well, special exhibits are different and this show was quite special indeed. You needed a timed ticket, as we learned when we showed up in the afternoon and they directed us to the waiting line and learned that all the tickets had long ago been passed out for the day (after standing outside for an hour). If we wanted to see the show, we could come back the next day and wait in line.

We had driven all the way there and I was in no mood to miss something that I had not known I would be doing a week before. I got in line about 6 am the next day (after taking advice from the local news) and I was about tenth in line with a three hour wait ahead of me. I had brought a book, but no umbrella. My apologies to P.D. James for the state of her book when the downpour finally stopped. The remainder of our party appeared with about thirty minutes to go and told me that the line stretched all around the block and beyond sight. Soon enough, we entered the National Gallery. Those in front of us were interested in the rest of the museum, oddly enough, so we were pretty much the first people in the Vermeer show that day.

The show was a lesson in technology, innovation, creativity, and the overwhelming desire of an artist to do the best work he possibly could. Nothing online or in a poster can capture the luminosity and beauty of Vermeer’s work in person. We spend a great deal of effort discussing the indulgence of art, arguing about its importance and its messages. Great that it would be to have a definitive answer about how important art is in life, but we all know that we need food and sleep and we ache when we see those without the necessities. And I would stand in line in the cold rain for hours for food and shelter for my family like many, many others have had to do. And, apparently, I would do the same for great art.

You’ve Got to Check This Out is a blog series about music, words, and all sorts of artistic matters. It started with an explanation. 240 more to go.

New additions to You’ve Got to Check This Out are released regularly. Also, free humor, short works, and poetry are posted irregularly. Notifications are posted on Facebook which you can receive by friending or following Craig.

Short Story by Bob Shaw

This is easily one of the greatest short stories written in English. In its brevity, the tale accomplishes what so many others take a few hundred pages to barely sketch. More than that, the science fiction involved is absolutely integral to the logic of the plot and reinforces the emotional thrust. It is a concrete lesson in how to construct a brilliant short story as well as a pleasure for any reader blessed with fifteen minutes to relish the tale.

As the meta-story goes, Shaw wrote the story in four hours. How we love the idea of the artist as channeler for that mystic realm where all art is actually kept. All any would-be artist needs to do is dip into the creative regions with their specially designed fishing pole (granted to every recipient of an M.F.A. from a reputable school) and reel back in something special. Beginners are welcome to “noodle.”

In reality, Shaw had been mulling the story for a long time. Ideas do erupt fully-formed in the mind, but an idea is not a finished work. Note that word- work. We all have ideas all day long. Few of us are artists all day long. Our desires, plans, interests diverge from the willingness to put in the work to transform that artistic notion into a finished creation that can be shared outside of our heads.

I suspect that explains the popular idea of the artist that hates doing the work. You’re allowed to complain about your boss or your tasks or your workplace, but somehow we expect artists to be above those petty concerns. But you are going to show up tomorrow and do your best. So is the artist. My morning routine before sitting down and writing has not changed that much from the office. Breakfast and email go together like toast and marmalade.

Make no mistake, the idea of slow glass is pure brilliance, but how easy it would have been merely to throw it out there: so, everybody has this stuff and we use it on our walls and isn’t that cool? The mind of the artist recognized the concept for the powerful feelings that could be engendered by such seemingly simple technology. The idea was too good to force into the background.

Once dragged forward into a central place in the story, Shaw does the unthinkable… he makes the story about people other than the guy with the technology. He shoves the technology just over there, stage right while he refocuses the action elsewhere. That is an artist in command of all his powers. So, we know that this story was not merely tossed onto the page in four hours. Thought and experience and training made this possible.

Then, he immediately shoved the pages into an envelope, scribbled Analog on the outside and handed it to the mailman who happened to be walking onto his porch at that very moment.

Of course not… he edited the work. He worried over it. Then John Campbell at Analog did the same. Sure, Campbell recognized brilliance- he had been in the editing game a long time by then. And he appreciated the work of it hidden by all that beautiful art.

You’ve Got to Check This Out is a blog series about music, words, and all sorts of artistic matters. It started with an explanation. 241 more to go.

New additions to You’ve Got to Check This Out are released regularly. Also, free humor, short works, and poetry are posted irregularly. Notifications are posted on Facebook which you can receive by friending or following Craig.

Song performed and written by Gram Parsons

Is there a better song for driving through the night on a long highway as the miles disappear behind you and a necessary destination beckons?

I came to Gram Parsons late, though I am not sure if you can come to him any other way anymore. Since the Eagles and Neil Young pushed country rock into the Top 40, I don’t know how much people listen to the Flying Burrito Brothers, Sweetheart of the Rodeo, and Grievous Angel. That’s all right (and a brief scan through Facebook suggests that Parsons’ music still touches a lot of people). It’s more whiskey-sipping music than Little Kings chugging music. My apologies if that is your beverage of choice.

In the late 70s, high school was dominated by those who blasted Zeppelin or Skynyrd. Nazareth was an option. But you had those three standard kick ass songs when the testosterone started flowing. I might argue that those bands were capable of nuance, but teenage boys are not particularly known for their ability to read deeply into their artistic consumables. So, kudos to those who did appreciate Parsons before their growth plates started closing.

So, art in the right time and place… which has been a long way round for me to bring up Arthur Rimbaud. Rimbaud lived longer then Parsons, but his artistic output ended at a younger age. In the Frenchman’s case he ceased writing poetry for unknown reasons and began a life of travel and adventure. The words came to him and he expressed them for a while.

Art, whether you are the creator or the consumer, changes you. I don’t think we’re always comfortable with that aspect of the experience. Your feelings are exposed, perhaps only to yourself. Ideas blossom. Certainly, one work of art is potentially more provocative than another. Totalitarian rulers have always tried to shut down access to the more provocative work whether or not it was directly critical of their power. After all, that stuff makes people think and feel.

Which is what brings me back around to Hair of the Dog (that Nazareth song linked above- no, it is not called “Now you’re messing with…”). To their credit, I think that song very effectively channels its intended emotion. You are coming out the other side of those four minutes feeling pumped up and ready to take on the world. Your teeth may well be set and you can just tell your eyes have that glower going. Fine, so far, but is it provocative? Now, go back and listen to In My Hour of Darkness. All right, wait for your pulse to slow down from Nazareth and then listen to it. This is where the whiskey sipping comes in. You’re contemplating life. Gram Parsons provides the room for perspective, the true birthplace of wisdom and change.

My references to Nazareth are not entirely accidental here. They shared an affinity for Love Hurts with Gram Parsons. The world is far more interconnected than six degrees of Kevin Bacon.

You’ve Got to Check This Out is a blog series about music, words, and all sorts of artistic matters. It started with an explanation. 242 more to go.

New additions to You’ve Got to Check This Out are released regularly. Also, free humor, short works, and poetry are posted irregularly. Notifications are posted on Facebook which you can receive by friending or following Craig.