Art as a Third Place
In her book What Is Art For?*, Ellen Dissanayake tries to get to the ultimate “why” of art using science, anthropology and aesthetics. After looking at centuries of attempts to understand it, as well as the development of art and ritual across global cultures, Dissanayake finds:
“…a fundamental behavioral tendency… behind the arts in all their diverse and dissimilar manifestations from their remotest beginnings to the present day … I call this tendency making special and claim that it is as distinguishing and universal in humankind as speech or the skillful manufacture and use of tools.”
She continues,
“Making special implies intent or deliberateness … one gives a specialness that without one’s activity or regard would not exist. Moreover, one intends by making special to place the activity or artifact in a ‘realm’ different from the everyday.”
There are, of course, many personal, societal and cultural reasons why we make art. But I believe that this act of “making special” is at the core of both the desired product and the act itself. The process of creating is a ritual, a ceremony, a personally sacred space — whether it’s loud and messy, quiet and meditative or punctuated by interruptions.
The contradictions and terrors of 2020 have put a collective strain on our needs as social animals. We need community, we need to feel safe. We need to be seen and touched and heard.
As work, school and home have blurred into a singular space, the third place has largely disappeared. For those unfamiliar with the third place, it’s that place that is neither work nor home. It’s a cafe, church, bar, library, club… that place you visit regularly that has a particular importance in your life. Sociologist Ray Oldenburg said that third places "host the regular, voluntary, informal and happily anticipated gatherings of individuals beyond the realms of home and work."
In our conversation with Nuveen Barwari a few weeks ago, she drew a direct line to art as her third place, and it has stuck with me since. She said:
“Living back and forth living between Kurdistan and America and being part of this diasporic community, I feel like I always felt the need to make sense of it all. I was just always looking for an outlet to express this in-between space … and then art came into play and became became my third place, you know, where I feel like I am able to create my own language I'm able to create my own space.”
The third place has been co-opted by capitalism (like, well, everything). Starbucks really wants to be your third place. In fact, they have a whole policy around it. Architects design for it, especially in workplace design. If your work campus has restaurants and bars, why leave … ever? Silicon Valley perfected this with their sprawling campuses designed to make you more productive and loyal while lulling you into a manufactured sense of freedom.
While traditional third places also often profit from their community members (seen the markup on liquor lately?), these third places are born from community — not strategically designed for it.
In The Great Good Place, Oldenburg lists the characteristics that define a third place.
It’s on neutral ground
It’s a leveler (class, title and role shouldn’t apply)
Conversation is the main activity
It provides accessibility and accommodation
It has regulars
It keeps a low profile
It’s playful
It is a home away from home
We’re in a time when we desperately need third places, but also have very little access to them.
Can our art, and the creative process, provide a figurative third place? Even when it’s a solitary act? Each of our practices is highly individual, and each of us have differing levels of access to space, time, materials and collaborators we may need.
What I suggest transcends spatial, temporal and material restrictions because it makes the most of two things we all share — a mind and a body. Our art as a third place is all in our minds and bodies. It’s portable. Wherever you go, there it is.
What does the Art Third Place look like?
It’s on YOUR turf. Nobody can invade this space.
You dictate the topic, the boundaries, the setting.
It’s a conversation between you and your work.
You and your body/mind are aligned.
The regulars here are you, your work, your muses, your materials.
Only you know what happens here.
It’s playful. If it ain’t fun, it ain’t worth it.
It is a home away from home … in your home.
I don’t mean to suggest this idea can in any way replace the value of community, feedback and collaboration. But, in a time where we have less community and more anxiety, it’s a tool to tap into a liminal mental space that we already use as artists.
No matter how or where our work is done, no matter if it’s slow and planned or punctuated by work and family responsibilities, it is done in the mind and the body. Sculpture, photography, music, writing, theatre, dance — it all flows between the mind and body (it’s important to note that every body is different, and we each have our own needs, adaptations and accommodations to work with them in what we make).
We like to separate the mind and body. We try to make exercise about the body only and meditation about the mind, but anyone who practices either seriously knows that the two must work in concert. And, for our work to provide a third place — a place where we can retreat not to escape but to recharge, a place where we are in charge of the boundaries — we have to rethink how our mind and body work together.
We must be present
The mind and body have to work in concert. Centering practices, meditative movement practices like yoga or tai chi, body scans and good runs or hikes are all powerful traditional ways to bring the mind and body together and to bring our awareness to the present moment.
Our attention is one of the most powerful tools we possess. We have to align our mind and body with our attention to be present and mindful of the moment. When we’re present in the now, we’re not thinking about work or chores, we’re not winning arguments in our heads or worrying about the future.
We must take it seriously
We have to approach this with intentionality. Whether or not you have the privilege of a dedicated regular work time or routine is not important, what is important is your mindset. Maybe we can create every day. Maybe only for a few hours after the kids or roommates are in bed, or only on Saturday mornings. Or maybe it’s always different because of a crazy gig economy schedule.
Regular scheduling isn’t as important as intention and dedication. If we take the time to center ourselves and become present first, then we are in our personal third place no matter when or where we are. But we have to take it seriously.
But not too seriously
This is all made up. You’re really on the same couch where you binge watch shows, the same kitchen table where you had breakfast, the same garage where you make space between the car and the holiday decorations — you’re creating a mental space, a haven and safe space for your art.
But, if the baby needs changing, leaves need raking, the toilet is clogged — take it with ease and acceptance. Nobody is intentionally stealing anything from you, at least not in the way all the bleeps and bloops on your phone are trying to.
The Art Third Place is the space where you and your work flow together
Take your mind and time back from the news, advertisers and gadgets. Even if you’re an activist or organizer, devote even some small part of your time to getting centered and present and having a deep conversation with your work.
Why is this important?
Your practice as a creator is a sacred thing. It reconnects you with your deeper humanity — the humanity that cannot be defined or dictated by political parties, current events, outside work and outside expectations.
If we take seriously our connection with this humanity, if we consciously and intentionally turn our attention to it, then we deepen our confidence, skill and, most importantly, our equanimity in the face of todays deep pandemics of rage, isolation and fear.
Align your mind and body, and give your attention fully to your self and your work. It will repay you. You’re worth it.
