VOICES: Arts are not a rearview mirror of better days gone by

As we slide into the golden amber of fall, the season of transition, the leaves surrender to their fiery palette of reds, oranges, and burnished gold. The air begins its familiar dance of cooling, dipping and rising until it settles into the chill that ushers winter’s arrival. This time of year always feels like nature’s whispered reminder: life is cyclical, endlessly shifting. And in those cycles, I often find echoes of what is happening in our society — and within our own lives.

But lately, I have begun to question whether our cherished notion of an “arts season” is in sync with the times we live in. For decades, like so many artists, I followed the rhythm: summer as respite and restoration — cookouts, travel, long nights of play, hanging up the dance belt, putting down the paintbrush, closing the studio door — so that, come autumn, we might reemerge ready for the flurry of openings, performances and premieres. But now, something feels… off. Out of rhythm. As though we have confused the natural purpose of art with the churn of output.

I can only speak for myself — as an art maker, and now as one who writes, curates, and produces cultural content for public consumption — but this unease may be a sign of something deeper. A creeping malaise. A dangerous temptation to substitute the performative, polished result for the authentic exploration of “why” we create in the first place. To lose sight of what really matters.

Credit: Josh Ohms JOSH OHMS PHOTOGRAPHY

Credit: Josh Ohms JOSH OHMS PHOTOGRAPHY

And yet, there are bright reminders of what is real, what is alive. Sitting in on music rehearsals with the Luv Locz Experiment and MelinaMarie this past week I felt it: joy so infectious it spilled over, brimming with possibility. Standing before Gary Hinsche’s work at Dana Wiley Gallery this summer, I saw an energy burning brighter than artists half his age. At the reception welcoming Keitaro Harada, the Philharmonic’s new music director, I felt the spark of charisma and brilliance that promises to redefine Dayton’s cultural landscape. Different people, different mediums — but all share something undeniable. They remind us that the arts are not a rearview mirror of “better days gone by.” They are a compass pointing forward. A road map out of the darkness into the light.

It is all too easy to fall into the myth that our best days are behind us — that youth holds promise, while age holds only decline. But perhaps the time has come to re-sync ourselves to a higher rhythm: to remember that art is not bound by season, but by purpose. And that purpose — at its truest — elevates, heals, unites. For the privileged it is not about amassing fortune at the expense of society, it is about creating a space for all to participate regardless of their station in life.

When we allow censorship, erasure, or the silencing of art and history to creep into policy, the cost is nothing less than democracy itself. It is a denial of the very power that art holds: to confront fear, to dissolve division, to kindle hope.

So let this season of falling leaves remind us: now is the time. Now is the time to see the arts for what they truly are — not a cycle of consumption, but an antidote to despair. A force of empowerment. A renewal of our collective spirit. A chance, in the time each of us has left, to realign ourselves with the deeper purpose of creation: to bear witness, to spark joy, to imagine the possible.

Rodney Veal is the host of ThinkTV/CET Connect and President of the board of OhioDance.

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About the Author

Rodney Veal

Opinion

VOICES: Arts are not a rearview mirror of better days gone by - they are a compass pointing forward