We Need Happy Art

Grey Wall and Rose Bush by Georganna Greene

An idea floats in the cultural lexicon that pain makes good art. On the one hand, this is true. Feelings of sorrow, loneliness, grief, and anger often do inspire art, as it allows for an expression that words cannot always supply. It's why so many short stories are sad or shocking, so many poems are melancholy, so many paintings depict grief, and so many ballets are tragedies.  The artistry of sadness has extended its reach so far that now art depicting joy, peace, or even simple beauty is often seen as shallow or frivolous. What if there were a different way?

American poet Robert Frost, in his appreciation of the state of New Hampshire, mourns the non-existence of the Great American Novel. For decades, Americans have argued about whether there is a Great American Novel, just as other countries might have a national epic, and what the Great American Novel might be. Some suggest The Great Gatsby, others Uncle Tom's Cabin, but we have come to no unified decision. Frost, however, suggests that we lack a Great American Novel because we lack a Great American Tragedy. 

"For art's sake one could almost wish them worse
Rather than better. How are we to write
The Russian novel in America
As long as life goes so unterribly? . . .
We get what little misery we can
Out of not having cause for misery.
It makes the guild of novel writers sick."
- Robert Frost's "New Hampshire"

Given the relative economic welfare of the United States as well as the wide berth of our intermixed culture, American artists have no unifying national tragedy from which to create. Given no cultural tragedy, there is a temptation to peel up personal tragedy from the floorboards of our lives. We as artists gather any ounce of grief, heartbreak, or devastation we can get ahold of, so that we can knit it into some kind of beauty. 

While creating art can be a healthy way to process these emotions, the problem arises when we diminish art that is not sad. When we label upbeat pop songs as tacky, while praising the heartbroken ballads of the same artist, we are either letting our individual tastes define objective quality, or brushing off the value of happiness in art. When we frown at the bubblegum pink painting in favor of the moody and morose, when we dismiss the joyful poem for the broken one, when we insist upon art giving us some flavor of sadness rather than lighting up the world, there is a problem.

Art can be sad. There is plenty of fantastic, beautiful, devastating art in the world. There is also joyous, sparkly, brightening work that deserves an equal amount of respect. Art is about honesty, and while we all face sorrow or heartbreak at certain points, sometimes our honest emotions are positive ones. We should still feel the urge to create even with a smile on our faces. As audiences, we should devour art, regardless of its mood, and regurgitate our own expression. As artists, we should be honest with our emotions and insert them into our creative work without fear of how they will be received. Art is neither a therapy session nor a battleground: it is an honest, human conversation between our very hearts.