I ’ve always had a profound admiration for those who proudly call themselves “artists.” Like a lot of kids in elementary school, I made amateur little art projects to take home to my parents. I doodled in the margins of papers and filled my fair share of notebooks with sketches I was never quite proud enough to share with others. Hell, I even stuck with my trusty saxophone from elementary school through high school, playing everything from the simplest scales to selections from West Side Story in my sophomore-year prime.
But even so, there was always something that held me back from ever calling myself an “artist.” I’d always ascribed that title to the people I saw who wholeheartedly devoted themselves to the creation of their art—whatever it may be—a type of devotion I could only ever hope to achieve.
At a busy place like Columbia, my admiration for artists has only intensified. The constant creation of art in the face of administrative obstacles, a lack of resources, and a myriad of other responsibilities and concerns is nothing less than awe-inspiring; a unique form of resistance against the somber days that sometimes come with our time on campus.
And naturally, art, once created, has the power to shape our experiences here in a way course readings and discussion sections cannot—that is, of course, if we allow it to. I hope an ounce of this devotion comes forth in these pieces; the artists have laid it out for you to see.
All the best,
Editorial Page Editor