We've recently had discussions with partners and collaborators of Dharma/Arte on different subjects, and somehow these discussions have raised a similar set of questions. We'd like to have your opinion on this subject.
From “Art in everyday life”, chapter of True perception: the path of dharma art, by Chögyam Trungpa:
The idea of the artist is very important and seems to be necessary at this point. When we talk about art, we could be referring to somebody deliberately expressing the beauty and delightfulness or the mockery and crudeness of the world that we live in, in the form of poetry, pictures, or music. That kind of art could be said to be somewhat deliberate art. It is not so much for yourself, but it is more an exhibition, however honest and genuine the artist may be. Such an artist may say that he simply composed his poem because he felt that way. But if that’s the case, why should he write it down on a piece of paper and date it? If it’s just purely for himself, it does not need to be recorded. Whenever a need for recording your work of art is involved, then there is a tendency toward awareness of oneself: ‘‘If I record that brilliant idea I’ve developed, in turn, quite possibly accidentally, somebody might happen to see it and think good of it.’’ There’s that little touch involved, however honest and genuine it may be.
A work of art from that point of view is exhibition. I’m not saying that is wrong—by no means. In fact, if we develop a moralistic approach toward art, the whole thing becomes heavy-handed. We try to save ourselves from ego-tripping and just show an inch or a corner of our work of art, afraid that if we do the whole thing completely, we might be indulging our ego and our pride, and so forth. In that approach, there’s a lot of hesitation, a pulling back and forth involved. In exhibitionistic art, until you begin to realize that the discipline and training you have received is your possession and you can do what you like with it, until you have that sense of ownership, you will be regarded as halfhearted. That goes with any kind of artwork. The training and discipline you have received is completely inherent; you possess it completely and thoroughly, and it’s now up to you how you present it. It’s the same as the wisdom of the lineage, which is handed down to a particular lineage holder, and that lineage holder exercises his own authority as to how to present it to his particular generation.
[…] While other artists take a deliberately artistic or exhibitionistic approach, with awareness practice your entire ability and all your potentials are completely opened. (I’m not using the term exhibitionistic pejoratively, but in a neutral way.) You don’t need very much inspiration at all. Actually, you don’t need that much vocabulary or tricks of any kind to create good works of art—poetry, painting, music, or whatever. You just simply say the experience you’ve experienced—just say it, just play it, just paint it.
Today, it seems that more often than not we’re not able to avoid a dualistic approach. More often than not we’re implying that something is “wrong”, or “neurotic”, “setting-sun”, or “not normal”. There seems to be a subtle and at the same time radical difference in relation to the context presented by Trungpa, or even to a commonsense slogan of a not so distant past, which called us to be “beyond good and evil”.
It’s as if the urgency of current problems is redeeming another slogan: “The ends justify the means”: for the sake of “sustainability”, this is good and that is evil; for the sake of “sanity”, this is mindful, that is neurotic/setting sun. But, how truly sustainable and sane can be a moralistic approach towards our situation, our problems, or the arts? Are we now giving steps towards a new moralism? Are we oversimplifying reality and, in some cases, the potentials of many wisdom traditions, including Trungpa’s dharma art teachings, for feeding a new bubble, a new moralism?
