A Season for Art, Community, and Resistance
Hi all!
I hope you’re well and easing into a sweet season of get-togethers, celebrations, and gratitude. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on lessons learned this year, and one thought keeps coming back to me: the urgent need to make time for the incredible art and artists I’m surrounded by. When I travel, I definitely visit galleries and museums and rub elbows with fellow writers, but when I’m in Bozeman, I tend to focus on my own work, and forget about our symphony, opera, and incredible theater—we have several companies—as well as painters, sculptors, muralists, and visiting writers.
Last weekend, my friend Angela Ahn texted me about "Fall of Freedom," a concert in Bozeman where she was among the performers. This was part of a nationwide call to action from the “art community,” according to their mission statement, “to unite in defiance of authoritarian forces sweeping the nation. Our democracy is under attack. Threats to free expression are rising. Dissent is being criminalized. Institutions and media have been recast as mouthpieces of propaganda.” I decided to put down my own writing and attend—something that ordinarily I would not have done.
Angela, accompanied by a friend, kicked off the event with a beautiful violin and piano piece, Florence Price’s Fantasy No. 1. They were followed by guitarist Stuart Weber, with an acoustic version of “God Bless America.” Then Eric Funk took the stage and played “How Great Thou Art” and “Amazing Grace” on the piano, having explained that the latter song was written by John Newton, who had a profound conversion experience after he had been a trader of enslaved people in the 1700s. Newton later became an ardent abolitionist and clergyman, his iconic hymn flowing from his transformation.
The most moving moment came from actor Cara Wilder's reading of Andrea Gibson’s stunning poem, “Yellow Bird.” Sorry you can’t hear her reading it—she did a brilliant job—but you can, however, hear the brilliant poet, Andrea Gibson, whom we lost this year, recite it here. Here is an excerpt:
“Picasso said he would paint with his own wet tongue on the dusty floor of a jail cell if he had to. We have to create; it is the only thing louder than destruction; it is the only chance the bars are gonna break.”
This gorgeous poem reminded me of a conversation I had with friends last week. The current administration is impoverishing us on so many levels—we are being drained of the very things that fill us up, things I consider American birthrights.
The current regime is robbing us of our environmental protections on public lands and our great arts, along with programs for children's health, USAID, and SNAP benefits. In withholding both food benefits as well as funds for the humanities, they rob us of the stuff that nourishes our bodies and our souls. Further, this administration is making a mockery of the Kennedy Center while pressuring the Smithsonian, as well as national monuments and parks, to whitewash our nation’s complicated stories.
Art is the way we communicate, inspire, and build community. Its immense power brings to mind works that moved the world:
The AIDS Memorial Quilt stretched across the National Mall, honoring millions lost to the terrible disease; Toni Morrison’s searing Song of Solomon forced a reframing of race and gender through the Black woman's experience; Octavia E. Butler’s Parable of the Sower connected climate change impacts with stark inequity; Picasso’s “Guernica” revealed the horrors of war; James Welch’s Winter in the Blood laid bare the brutality of colonialism and its long-lasting impacts; Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” took on oppression and injustice; and Arthur Miller’s The Crucible delivered a scathing critique of the horrors of McCarthyism.
Art helps us fight the bad guys. It also captures us, pushes us, and makes us dream bigger. It brings change.
A country without the arts is a dismal one. Without joy and inspiration, we’re left bereft and dispirited in our fight against authoritarianism. I know we are being asked for a lot right now—just watching the news is hard—but in addition to food aid, conservation, scholarship funds, libraries, or wherever you send your support, consider musicians, theater, programs for the arts tailored towards children, poets, and writers.
The organization I support for their incredible work is Torrey House Press, a nonprofit that “champions books and writers the world needs.” They publish my books, as well as those by Pam Houston, David Gessner, Amy Irvine, Stacie Denetsosie, Karin Anderson, and so many others—works that gird us as we challenge the wrongs in the world and soothe us as we ground within it.
Here is how you can support their mission:
Learn about Torrey House Press, and its mission here.
Become a member here.
Buy books here, read them, let them settle into your bones, and get ready to reframe worlds.
Have a lovely holiday season. More to come in the new year about newsletter changes and my forthcoming book!
With love, Betsy