I heard a line in a movie the other day stating that art was spiritually “transcendent”. It may be for many, but I believe that art is more about leaving your mark. I can certainly enjoy it and be enraptured by it, but I get no spiritual exaltation out of it. I have that from nature, even in New York City where a quick look at the East River riptide or a walk through Central Park can inspire me in a way that no piece of art can.
This isn’t to say that art can’t be sublime or revealing. No matter what, I see art as communication of where we have been and, to some extent, where we are going. It doesn’t really matter if it is an Easter Island sculpture, Cycladic figurine or even a Jackson Pollack drip painting. They are all cultural statements about a moment in time and, if the creator is lucky enough, they gain a sense of permanence that few other things connected with civilization have.
Some people will say that things speak to them, something I cannot deny. I greatly enjoy looking at antique furniture that was well made and maintained all of its existence. These objects reveal themselves the more you look at them, but even then, their essence is real, not spiritual. It is possibly why I find myself in complete wonder at the veneration of religious symbols—they are, after all, made by man. But that is what makes a horse race. We all worship different things.