Art, politics and the 'here and now'

From about 1985 to 2000, I was the arts editor of the Daily Inter Lake, which proved to be unexpectedly good training for my current job as managing editor.

There was first of all the expectation that I could be all things to all people. Everyone thought their event or concert or play was the most important one of the week, and ought to be the top photo in the arts section, along with a 20-inch preview, followed up by a glowing review, three or four pictures of the actual event, and maybe a fund-raising plug thrown in for good measure.

To accomplish this for each and every group or artist who expected it would have violated at least two of the laws of thermodynamics and maybe even the special law of relativity, but if you work at a newspaper you soon learn that you are expected to bend the rules of time and space like a Jedi master.

No room on the page? Doesn't matter. Get it in.

No time to write the story? Doesn't matter. We need it right away.

No way to be in two places at the same time? Figure it out. Just do it.

But there was also much about the job of entertainment editor that was entertaining, too. For one thing, I got to write those movie reviews that people either loved or hated - kind of reminds me of something else I do now! - and for another I had a chance to meet and talk to many interesting people.

Which brings me to the reason for this mini-reminiscence.

I got e-mails this month from two of the nicest people I ever met on the arts beat, and two of the most talented. They are both returning to the Flathead next month for "limited engagements" and I thought I would take a breather from the world of politics to talk once again about the magical power of art to enlighten, enrich and inspire, and also to ponder the great divide between politics and true art.

Singer-songwriter Chuck Pyle and author David Long probably have nothing in common with me politically, and they no doubt would be among the many people shaking their heads in dismay when I write a column defending President Bush, but good art, real art, transcends politics. I knew that years ago when I wrote laudatory reviews of, for instance, Clint Eastwood and Oliver Stone films. It didn't matter to me what the political affiliation of these fellows was; all that mattered was they made films that were brilliantly crafted, fully realized, and evanescently insightful.

Of course, artists and entertainers such as Rosie O'Donnell and George Clooney do like to make their voice heard in the political realm, and for this I can't fault them. It seems eminently reasonable that everyone should have an opportunity to influence the public discourse. The difference between O'Donnell and Clooney, of course, is considerable. She has more or less given up any pretense of art or entertainment and is now strictly a commentator and spokeswoman for a viewpoint. As such, if you don't like her ideas, there's nothing much left to like.

Clooney, on the other hand, is quite a different character. Despite becoming a spokesman for a variety of causes that might be considered left of center, Clooney remains fundamentally an artist. As an actor, writer and director he has grown and matured immeasurably since his days on "E.R." and anyone who refuses to see his work because of his politics is missing out on a major talent.

In a significant way, the same goes for Long and Pyle.

David Long spent more than 20 years raising a family in Kalispell, and building his reputation as a top-notch literary author of short-stories and more recently novels. Many of his early works are set in Sperry, Montana, which is a fictional version of Kalispell, but he moved to the Seattle area about five years ago.

As a novelist, Long is ultimately as unpolitical as one can get. The likelihood of him writing a piece of fiction in the service of promoting a political agenda is about as thin as the line between a congressman and a land shark. What Long writes about is the unending struggle of the conscious individual to understand himself, and to figure out whether or not his life means anything or not, and if so, why. Such writing reduces the Iraq War to an afterthought. More important than anything global or political is the eternal pondering insistence of the here and now.

It is that "here and now" which makes great art, not ideas about politics and presidents. Thus, Long can say in an interview, "We've seen an onslaught of nonfiction about terrorism, fundamentalist Islam, and related matters. And because the response by our government was (and continues to be) so ill-informed, so arrogant, so deceitful and catastrophically wrong-headed, we've had books dissecting that, from both sides." And I can say, with some regret, it's too bad David has bought into the party line on the War Against Terrorism.

But when I am reading from David's new novel, "The Inhabited World," the tale of a man who is haunting the house where he killed himself 10 years earlier, I don't really care what the author thinks about politics. I am caught up in the world he has created, in the sentences which condense the tension of existence into something as simple as subject-verb-object. Long's gift is a genius of craft, and when he writes a new book I owe him the gift of my attention not because he does or doesn't agree with me about George Bush, but because he put his heart into his work.

The fact of the matter is - and at some point this is a lesson worth learning for everyone - most authors, artists, dancers, musicians, etc., have nothing much to teach us when they are not engaged in their craft. Not surprisingly, they are just ordinary people whose opinions could fall anywhere from A to Z. The chance that a favorite writer's lifestyle or politics is going to be a match for your own is slim to chimerical. But there is no reason to deny an artist his opportunity to express an opinion either, and we should not be so insecure in our own beliefs as to be offended when someone expresses a heartfelt belief that opposes our own.

I am always bemused by the letters I receive from people who dislike my opinions and therefore draw unhappy conclusions about either my mental health or my character. What exactly made them think I would see the world the same way as they do? Did we all have the same parents? The same upbringing? The same teachers? The same experiences? Why is it so hard for some people to imagine that people can reach opposite conclusions honorably?

Rather than being dismissed as a Bush toady, is it not possible that I actually analyzed the facts in evidence and came to a conclusion that mirrors the Bush position independently? Hmmmn, I am assuming 50 percent of my readers are shouting, NO YOU IDIOT! But nonetheless I will trudge on in my effort to put to use the brain God gave me to make my case through analysis rather than regurgitation.

One thing you will never hear Chuck Pyle doing (at least at his shows) is shouting. Known for some time as the Zen Cowboy because of his quiet, calm demeanor and his at-one-ment with the universe, Pyle performs a kind of original jazzy Western swing folk music that ought to penetrate even the thickest skull with the poetry of the natural world and the possibilities of the human one.

His new album, "True Unity," is full of the philosophy that makes Pyle such a delight. As Chuck sings in "Long Time Gone," "I'm a short time here, and a long time gone. Every moment's dear, every day's a song. I sing it like there's no tomorrow."

Indeed, a Chuck Pyle concert is very much about the here and now, about a steady beat and a tapping toe, leather boots and a cowboy hat, a guitar strum and a steady hum, a lyrical lilt and a humorous lift. He plays his songs and he plies his trade, but he also tries to change people's thinking with his meditations on living as told from a Western saddle tramp's perspective. "Always ride the horse in the direction it's going," he says.

But that doesn't mean Chuck isn't part of the same mixed-up confusion as the rest of us, and there's no particular reason why we should all agree with him about everything he says. Will Rogers never met a man he didn't like, but I've never met a man who agreed with everything Will Rogers ever said.

It's the same with Chuck. When he talks about war, he's probably right - it is a mess. When he talks about peace, you can't really argue with his hopes and ideals. Jesus talked about loving you neighbor, so I don't see any reason why Chuck Pyle shouldn't do the same. There's no doubt in my mind that if everyone in the world took the same approach to life as Chuck Pyle, we would all be better off.

On the other hand, I don't think Chuck's cowboy music can stop the Islamic fascists from wanting to destroy the Great Satan they consider America to be. So when Chuck makes a joke about President Bush or complains about the Iraq War, I'm going to try to remember what they teach you in Alcoholics Anonymous:

"Take what you need, and leave the rest."

That seems like a good motto for anyone's appreciation of the arts, and maybe it should also be embraced by readers of opinion pages in newspapers, and even by readers of columns like this one.

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David Long will be back in Kalispell on Saturday, Nov. 4, for a book signing at Books West from 2-4 p.m. Call the store at 752-6900 for details.

Chuck Pyle will perform his annual concerts at Kandahar Lodge in Whitefish on Friday and Saturday, Nov. 3-4. Call 862-6098 for ticket information, and remember, seating is limited.