Artillery
It was heartening to read the feature story today at Breitbart News about empowering wounded veterans to participate in the plastic arts as well as song and other performance arts. The story is fortuitous because today marks the end of the Senate budget resolution process — the continuing resolution (CR), which designates spending by the federal government. Social services are as much a matter of social support as they are about funding. The importance of each may be unevenly weighted, but neither of which is dispensable.
Most veterans return to civilian life without handicap and many enjoy the advantages provided by military service. Veterans with PTSD also benefit from higher learning and training, including art. The news story provides a link to The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, which offers opportunities not only for the learner but also for the future teacher or administrator of veteran-specific art therapy intensive programs. The school website features alum Richard Casper (BFA 2012), "a United States Marine veteran, a Purple Heart recipient, a sculpture artist, and the co-founder of a nonprofit—CreatiVets—that helps veterans heal through art."
The photo of Casper depicts him with what appears to be a clay object, presumably one of his sculptural creations. I would be quick to add that the program goes far beyond "throwing clay," which is effective and satisfying therapy. Observe that the object appears to be an upside-down infantryman’s helmet. This is not a banal mug or bowl — an obvious theme of clay therapy — but an editorial or commentary on his experience and the material circumstances, such as lethal equipment and protective wear. Neither is it intended as a monument or grave marker, for instance, which would be subject to regulations.
It is art, not mere craft—conceptual art. The object holds meaning, both for the artist and for the viewer. Its meaning for the artist may differ from what it signifies to the viewer, a latent psychological meaning that likely stems from his trauma as a serviceman. When a clay pot contains emotional symbolism, it is more than just a clay pot —it is art. At the same time, it is still “only” clay, a craft medium. What elevates the clay above a raw material is the infusion of the artist's consciousness, its sublimation in the kiln, metaphorical oven of the horrors of war.
An object of creation, such as it is, is nothing like a relic of the battlefield—an actual helmet saved as a souvenir or trophy, carrying implicit historical significance. It is a metaphor. It has a narrative, like a genuine historic relic of war, but it is a work of art because it goes further. It has a song to sing —perhaps a dirge, perhaps a song of joy, that of survival, of living through a ghastly experience to tell it. Add a context for its display, and possibly the telling of its meaning to others—a stage for example—and nothing more is needed.
That's a tough one, because art galleries and performance halls are not free. Ticket sales in the fringe performance circuit of the fine arts are meager or non-existent. Enter an angel, like Gary Sinise, who is willing to back efforts to the tune of $1 million or more. The contribution comes through Sinise's fund, CreatiVets, a not-for-profit organization. That’s common business practice, but this isn’t a share in a potential box office hit, like investing in a Hollywood movie. It is philanthropy.
According to the article, Sinise has seen the unexpected impact of art throughout his career. His Oscar-nominated role as wounded Vietnam veteran Lt. Dan Taylor in "Forrest Gump" in 1994 deepened his connection to veterans. His music with the Lt. Dan Band expanded it. In 2011, he launched the Gary Sinise Foundation to broadly serve veterans, first responders, and their families. Says Sinise, “I think citizens have a responsibility to take care of their defenders. There are opportunities out there for all of us to do that, and one of the ways to do it is through the many nonprofits that are out there.”