adrian varnam

A variation of this post was first published in The Beat Magazine.  Although it was written with Wilmington, NC in mind, it could apply to many others cities and towns across the country.

A respected and popular musician that I’ve known for years, Scott Miller, likes to shout out frequently to the crowd during his shows, “Are you with me?!”  The crowd always drunkenly responds with the affirmative as they raise their beers together.  It’s a goofy but amazingly effective way to engage the audience; giving everyone in the room a boost of self-confidence knowing that they are with him, and each other.  Together.

There’s power in brief encounters like those; where voices come together under one roof, celebrating a moment.  It’s the sharing of ideas and music and the oxygen in the room that gives it its strength.  It’s the sense of community that envelops it and sustains it and I think it’s absolutely vital to the creation and survival of art.  And it’s always been that way.

In 1974, America was at a crossroads.  We were in the middle of an economic recession, there was corruption in the White House, and we were fighting a war we couldn’t win.  But at a bar on the seedy and isolated Bowery in New York City, something remarkable was happening.  Musicians Richard Hell and Tom Verlaine began a weekly gig playing original rock ‘n’ roll with their band Television; an opportunity rarely found in the days of cover bands and big clubs.  Every Sunday night a large group of friends would gather at CBGB creating music and art, sharing in those moments together and supporting each other; even in the midst of alcohol, drugs, nihilism and corporate industry greed.  And within a few years, the whole world would know about it.

Over a decade before, teenagers in Liverpool were gathering blues recordings from the American sailors on the banks of the Mersey River.  All over the city, clubs, particularly the Cavern Club, helped foster a generation of rock bands giving the Liverpool scene its own sound, as characterized by the distinctive backbeat and vocal harmonies.  Before long and after a lengthy residency in Hamburg, one band would bring that creativity to America on February the 7^th, 1964, and change pop music forever.

And the same birth of creativity in rock ‘n’ roll can be found in San Francisco in the late ‘60s, Seattle in the late ‘80s, and Chapel Hill, Athens, and other college towns in the early ‘90s.  The same can be seen in filmmaking with the French New Wave or Hollywood, in literature with the Beat Generation in NYC and San Francisco, in Harlem with the Renaissance, with impressionism in the salons of Paris, and dozens upon dozens of other movements throughout history.  Art and community are symbiotic.  Always.  And the power and importance of place and space play a vital role in the birth and nurturing of artistic innovation, no matter which city it takes place.

I’ve lived off and on in Wilmington, North Carolina my whole life, active for most of that time in music, writing, education, and downtown culture.  I constantly hear gripes from all sides about what’s wrong with this town, what it lacks, what it needs, and the way it used to be.  I hear blame attached to the University, city council, the House of Blues, the cultural climate, the music industry, and any other tangible scapegoat that seems reasonable.  And yet nothing changes.  With each passing day, our creative and cultural community becomes more fractured, more territorial with few leaders and even less constructive and fresh ideas.  And yet, art and community continue to remain symbiotic, no matter what we do or don’t do.  The problems, just like the solutions, lie within ourselves.

But there is hope.  There will always be a cluster of creative people in our town (or yours) that produce good work, who run reputable businesses, who organize successful festivals, who understand the importance of communication and interaction and play nicely with others.  What we need to do to make a difference in their lives and ours is simple: we need to come together, vis-à-vis, and show ourselves, share ideas and passions, and communicate more effectively.

Every day I see it.  It’s why we worship together in churches, synagogues, or mosques.  It’s why we go to Farmers’ Markets or still buy things from stores instead of online.  It’s why we enjoy walks in the parks, dinners in restaurants, and smiles with strangers on the street.  We still long for those touches, for those kisses, for that physical energy that connects us all.  We still wait for those moments together where we can share in art, music, and creativity in the proximity of other people who like all of those things too.  And I believe that’ll never change.  That’s where art truly comes from.

Does that mean that Wilmington or any other town’s cultural community will never become more united, more supportive, or a more interesting place to live until we have a CBGB or Cavern Club of our own?  Not necessarily.  But what it does mean is that nothing will change until we all get on the same page.  And sometimes simply awareness is the beginning.  As John Lennon pleaded, so do I.  It’s time to “come together. . .  right now.”

This isn’t about supporting the arts.  It’s about supporting each other.

Are you with me?

Technorati Tags: arts, Community