Minority Pursuits as Spiritual Potentialities

Poor Timothee Chalomet. He uttered an innocuous truth about some of the fine arts, and got blasted for it. Sure he shouldn't have said "no one" cares about opera and ballet, but to pretend that we don't know what he meant is just a bunch of play acting. It's a figure of speech, people! Yes, people love these art forms but truth be told, there ain't a lot of them, especially relatively speaking. A Bad Bunny video will get more than a billion views. A billion! I like how, when Conan O'Brien made a wisecrack about the gaffe at the Oscars, he said, "you forgot to mention jazz" -- which, of course is my passion. He didn't say jazz was bad. Just that not many people like it. I thought it was funny! All Chalomet was saying was that he didn't want film to become a niche concern that requires charitable funding to survive. 

Which brings me to my main question, which is: What does it mean to care deeply about something that is of no concern to the vast majority of society? Or, more crucially, something which, because of its extreme minority status is of little consequence in our world. If one were to care about things of extreme consequence in our world, I guess the big thing now would be AI. My passion for jazz, and the art form itself, are mere specks in terms of how they are now impacting and will impact the world. And I guess that's fine. But I also always have felt that the things I do and invest in intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually might somehow improve this chaotic and beautiful world we live in. And I think they do, at least a little bit. I certainly would not want to be, for example, Sam Altman, whom I'm guessing, knows jack shit about the arts, unless it's how AI might interact with them or produce them-- a prospect that leaves me profoundly dispirited. Fortunately, I am old enough to not have to go along with any social imperatives to embrace or "get good at" AI art or writing or music. Old age does indeed have advantages. One can simply say, "No thank you." 

If Altman and all the others have their fingers, no, their fists, on the zeitgeist, engaging in developments that will leave no human untouched, then I suppose I also have my finger on a zeitgeist -- only it's the world spirit of the 1950s! Put me back in 1954 and I would be one happy camper. Jazz artists were revered on a fairly wide level, with college students going crazy for Miles Davis and Dave Brubeck, digging on their jams like rock and hip hop fans would do with the Allman Brothers (a definite favorite of mine) or Kendrick Lamar in the decades to come. Cultured individuals would also be expected to be literate in classical music and the best fiction of the age. But now, even the notion of a cultured individual is quaint. I don't think the concept exists anymore, not least because it requires a common culture, coupled with a widespread appetite to stretch and get out of one's comfort zone. Being fed things by the algorithm is predicated on the exact opposite impulse; it exists to draw you further inside of what you already know and like, reducing vasts portions of the populace into digital crack monkeys. Yes, there is still pop music with artistic quality, for example many of the songs of Taylor Swift or various rappers, but I suspect that the level of intentionality or consciousness now required to withstand the onslaught is not as widespread as I would like to see, or more to the point, needed to have a salutary effect on society.

This whole thing is sort of how the Greek experiment in culture, humanism, and democracy for all intents and purposes didn't exist for centuries until they were revived in the Renaissance. Phenomena always exist without end but they have to be consciously invoked to manifest in our world. Phenomena exist as potentialities on a continual basis in realms of consciousness parallel to our own, I think. Is this wishful thinking on my part? Imagining that there is a parallel universe where jazz and fine music rules the roost? Sure, I mean one might despair thinking that what one cared about had no meaningful impact in our world. Now, with the AI tsunami gaining speed and power, all manner of worthy pursuits and interests seem poised to be washed away, not just minority pursuits like jazz. It's just hard for me to believe that all the loftiest human endeavor has been more or less for naught. If there are not the parallel worlds I dream of, there are certainly conglomerations of consciousness and energy that are perpetual, and which do shape the spiritual truths that undergird life as we know it.

One great thing about minority pursuits is that the fullness of humanity, or humanness, has a chance to shine through. I have written elsewhere on this site about jazz and spirituality, and I conclude that much of the spirit of the music flows from the expansive character of the individuals that perform it -- and of course the unique community that results from the gathering of such like-minded, expansive individuals. A quick anecdote. Last week, a friend invited me to join her to hear the trumpet player Jean Caze, who was performing across the street at the One Hotel. During the evening we had a lot of opportunity to chat with him, and I was struck by his humility and grace as a person. When he isn't performing and teaching here in Miami, he is the featured trumpet soloist with Michal Bublé. Big time! Beyond the resume item, he has some of the best chops I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot. Yet, he took the time to earnestly encourage me to dust off my trumpet and give it a go again. One cool point of connection was when I observed that even if I have a hard time getting my chops all the way back, that's no obstacle to creative expression. He wholeheartedly agreed, saying that sometimes when it's late in a gig and his chops are weakening, he sometimes plays his best stuff because he has to think creatively how to thrive within that space of limitation. Resumes can't measure that stuff.

My feeling is that jazz in particular stimulates thought, emotion, and consciousness in ways that are unique, ways that tap into such spiritual realities as the ways that interconnection and new possibilities can arise in every moment. I'd love to see a visual image of what's going on with the collective consciousness of a room like the Village Vanguard when the music is cooking! But setting that aside, any pursuit that includes personal craft will allow for the experience of meaningful exchange and the pursuit of not only excellence but transcendent meaning. I'm envisioning mentor-student relationships right now as a write this. I remember reading an interview with the great jazz drummer Elvin Jones, who took special interest in employing young musicians as he advanced in years. There is no greater thing you can do for someone, he said, than to give them an opportunity. How beautiful. To help others get the sense that the world is wide open and that, yes, dreams can come true is a glorious thing. Gifts such as these exist in any avenue of human endeavor, and we need to lean into these. AI can simulate mentorship, but there is no risk there. With humans, when you open yourself to another you open yourself to the possibility of getting hurt or having your heart broken. And these, we know, are also gifts, helping us to understand and in turn support those who have struggled. I believe this is among the important spiritual principles that this world gives us the unique opportunity to practice. AI can never take that away if we proceed with full consciousness of our identities as spiritual beings living in a material, technological world. And if you ever get frustrated, just repeat the title of the great Brian Wilson Beach Boys song, "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times"!