Kylie Grunsfeld, Contributing Writer
There’s a certain feeling of magic in the air at a Richmond house show. I can’t say for certain what everybody else is feeling when we sit around listening to someone’s performance. I do know, however, that we are all feeling something.
That is what great art can do — unite a room of people through the shared human experience of emotion.
Since my freshman year at VCU, I have had the privilege of both attending and performing at several house shows. A good friend and I started a tradition of hosting small acoustic shows in her apartment. Since that first show last year, attendance has grown rapidly, with people from other cities coming to sit and listen for an hour or two. I’ve seen old friends reunite. I’ve even seen people fall in love.
There is nothing like the community an intimate event like this provides. This goes for more than just music — I’ve experienced a similar connection with people I barely know at art galleries, ballet performances and poetry readings. Art gives us the space to feel in the presence of others. As quiet as an event may be, the energy is never static.
I encourage everyone reading to attend an art-related event, even if it’s not something that you consider “up your alley.” Even if you don’t know anyone going, even if you feel out of place, it’s so important that we build and maintain a community around art.
Art is resistance.
Community is resistance.
Art is inherently political.
Music, for instance, consists of lyrics that, regardless of what they are about, are influenced by society’s shortcomings as well as its expectations.
Songs about love can contain themes of power dynamics, misogyny, queerness and so on. Songs about loss often discuss cultural stigmas around grief. That innate ability to reflect the cultural moment is why songs are often incorporated in protests and demonstrations.
Though the state of our country and world can feel bleak, experiencing art alongside others can be a wonderful way of seeing another side of things. A person’s interpretation of a piece may be entirely different from your own. It may open an avenue of thought you weren’t aware existed — even inspiring optimism.
The friend I referenced earlier has a song condemning Elon Musk and his unimaginably large hoard of wealth.
She encouraged the room to sing along with the chorus: “What will you spend all that money on, Elon?”
I can’t tell you how hopeful I feel when we are all chanting in unison with the same goal in mind: creating hope and, eventually, change.
I am so grateful for the communities in Richmond I have found through my consumption and creation of art. You are never “too” anything to participate in these environments. Participation can just look like listening.
When you decide to engage with an art community, you will feel so much closer — not just to the people around you — but also to yourself.