I didn't even know him. I remember hearing about him when he passed away so suddenly, early this year, but other than that, he could have been just another face passing me by in the hallway or around the campus. But after reading more about him and after taking a few minutes to see some of his work, I get the sense that his passion for "creating" isn't something that you got only by taking one of his classes. I get the impression that Neil Moss was a storyteller and through his sculpture, his art, the story continues...indefinitely.
It's interesting, the idea of art; the implications, the meanings, the mere intent of a shape or form... I've always been rather curious as to how and why things are the way that they are. I suppose that's why I spent so many Saturdays, as a kid, walking to the library. That world was somewhat unknown; outside of the familiar and the comfortable. Literature gave me a new language. It enabled me to consider the possibilities of thoughts that I'd never even so much as entertained before. Stories and poetry and novels introduced me to new ways of capturing my own imagination in the form of analysis and interpretation. I read, I make meaning, it becomes a small piece of who I am in that moment and then, it lingers...
I know virtually nothing about art, but because I've been fascinated with the how and why, the landscape that a piece of art offers is just too enticing to resist. Tonight, as I looked at Neil Moss's sculpture; his pieces and the colors, the edges and the shapes, I was reminded of how little one needs to actually know to appreciate a creation of beauty. Yes sure, it's a bowl or a teapot, but really, it's so much more than that. The meaning of each piece, for me, still comes from a place of why and maybe it always will, but here, it seemed to come from the choices that he made for each of the pieces that were displayed. Certain colors and textures and forms and even the size of the piece. It makes me wonder what went through his mind when he sculpted each one and how he decided on that particular color and why that size and then, I told myself that it didn't matter. The piece was beautiful because... well, it just was. And the colors were luminous on one of the vases... well, just because. And my favorite piece, the teapot with the two small cups... well, let's just say that it holds certain symbolism for me in my life.
I'm fascinated by the fascinating; by the unexplained and the inexplicable. Neil Moss's sudden death left many people reeling and, this exhibition, put on by the college, makes me hope that many people, more like myself, who are out of their comfort zones in the art world, will take off their shoes and step inside so that they can get a small glimpse of the kind of legacy that this man has left behind; in his work and in his students. He was a man who was admired and loved and maybe there is no better legacy than that. Maybe there is no other reason to consider art than to say it is admired and loved and it attempts to speak to us on its own terms, in its own language. Frustrating though that may be, it certainly makes for an interesting evening.
Lastly, when speaking with a student about this very subject; well, art and the development of an appreciation for it, I was reminded by how much I still have to learn about so many things. And I was reminded that an appreciation for something, for anything comes from a deep desire to want to understand; a soul searching if you will. Maybe I don't allow myself to consider art in the same way that I do music or literature. I suppose I don't have to know why it is the way it is. I suppose that, in the end, it really is all about perspective. I do know though that my students are an untapped well of information and experience that enriches my own point of view and for that, I feel very lucky. I'm sure Neil Moss would agree. Sleep well Professor...
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