Skip to main content

Art and Intelligence

As an elementary school rascal in Upland, California, I attended the G.A.T.E. program—gifted and talented education. Classes centered around developing pattern identification skills to better draw connections between disparate things or ideas. Was I proud? You bet I was. A young kid among the local intellectual elite. Here, though, I want to write about why my opinion on that has changed. Intelligence isn't an apex trait, just another attribute of the complete human.

How do you define intelligence? Street smarts? Ethical reasoning? Imagination? Appeal? Wit? 

The geniuses of art make their messages easy to digest. They don't have to be complicated, and even when they are, they provoke emotion more than they bewilder. Albrecht Dürer's symbolism stirred questions, while Jackson Pollack's splatter paintings introduced a whirlwind in which viewers could find their own place. 
Did Dürer predict the Krampus?
In Room 237, a documentary that explores Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, narrators reference the director's high IQ. Kubrick was a skilled chess player. His film shows it, and the documentary highlights subtle symbols found throughout as proof of his genius. 

Don't get me wrong, I love The Shining, but when I compare it to The Sandlot, I don't see a huge genius gap. Instead, the latter film rings endearingly true to the quirks of childhood. While their subjects may not share much in common, the two films capture the desire to find belonging (although one of the stories is about a guy going nuts when he can't find it). 

Intelligence is found in both films, even though only one director reigns as a genius. Intelligence isn't an appropriate metric to evaluate which film is better, because art isn't about intelligence—it's about what it feels like to be human. If art isn't just a thing to be observed but an experience to be shared, intelligence could even impede the process, resonating as "out of touch" with viewers.

Love, anger, embarrassment, diligence, courage, and countless other impulses compel us toward action (or inaction), and regardless of how smart we may be, life's challenges  always escape our best understandings. Rapid pattern recognition can't conceal the misery of a broken heart, nor should it. 
 Art is rich when our most base emotions come together in chorus and remind us of what we share. It really is a gift when anyone shares an honest work with the world, and IQ-style intelligence doesn't have the corner market on what relates to others. Forget about the muse you wish you had. Make an homage to your unique influences.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Kim Kardashian Thinks Nobody Wants to Work Anymore

When life sucks, count on elites to toss another log onto the fire of discontent. Recently, it was culture queen Kim Kardhasian who earned a spot on the “let them eat cake” list of worst things ever said.  “Get your fucking ass up and work. It seems like nobody wants to work anymore,” she was quoted in Variety Magazine. It’s nothing we’re not used to, but usually people who like  Rick & Morty aren’t this eager to parrot the opinions of their Dr. Laura Schlesinger era parents. And for me, this one hurt.  “I have the best advice for women in business,” Kim Kardashian says. “Get your f--king ass up and work. It seems like nobody wants to work these days.” https://t.co/HuddEEXmoM pic.twitter.com/KJCIlaVX3S — Variety (@Variety) March 9, 2022 Over the years, Kim K has shown up here and there for important causes. She met with President Donald Trump to pass the First Step Act that would circumvent mandatory minimum sentences. She used her Twitter to mention clima...

How Crazy Are You? A Review of Ken Kesey's Nutso Novel

from The Huffington Post As I pause to destroy my technologically faulty keyboard and wireless mouse (my keyboard is a cabled $10 second hand model) for not responding when I click, allowing me to write an entire first sentence without even realizing my keystrokes were lost in the abyss of the inactive window, I am confronted with the obstinacy of nature, and my inability to affect it at my whim. It is frustrating. This reality upsets my comfort, and sometimes I want to scream. I may become angry, and if someone crosses my path at the wrong time, who knows what could happen? My emotions may take over, or maybe I'll suppress them longer, but that is only likely to make me crack, and if I crack, what then? What happens when one's emotions drive him to a place where he no longer feels capable relating to society? This is but one of the many questions raised by Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest . Are any of us crazier than the average asshole? Randle ...

If You'd Tried Harder

The bruise on Dolores’ thigh grew by the minute. She scratched and scratched, tried to put pressure on the wound, but it just kept spreading its darkness over her leg. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She lowered her skirt to hide the wound. Her sister Helen entered the kitchen and gave her a gentle but cold embrace. "Are you okay?" smiled Helen, eyes wide. Dolores just looked at the floor. "Well?" Helen pressed. "Look, I’m sorry about what happened, but you know you don't have to suffer like this." Dolores lifted her gaze from the floor into Helen's eyes, narrowing beams of hot, vaporizing fury. Helen pretended not to notice the chill she suddenly felt. Their friends and neighbors said Dolores had kind eyes, but they wouldn't think so if they saw her now. "You know I love you," said Helen. Dolores sat silent for a while. "I know," she said, looking down at the floor. Her jaw squeezed as she winced at the ...