How to Build a Gas Station

A student once asked a college professor why music curriculum was steeped in the classics when music application upon graduation was mostly contemporary or popular oriented. The context of the question was related to churches but can be extended to the music industry. The professor gave an indirect example that served as both his philosophy and a justification of the curriculum. He said something to the effect that an architect studies the finest in architecture rather than how to build a gas station. He went on to posture that if an architect can build a cathedral or a museum or a mansion, then he can certainly build a gas station.

Aside from several weaknesses that occur when analogies are analyzed to specific detail, the attitude is likewise disdainful. The idea of exclusion and qualitative generalizations based on random subjectivity makes me uncomfortable, and I cannot entirely join my colleagues in criticizing the gas station and lifting up the highly regarded architectural design of a cathedral. I am so thankful for the cathedral but will admit to using the gas station much more frequently. Does this in and of itself make the gas station a lesser structure and partly due to infrequent usage, the cathedral greater? As a design becomes more utilitarian does it likewise become less artistic and therefore less worthy?

This does not mean that I equate all buildings as equal nor do I spend effort in studying the design of a gas station over that of a cathedral. It does mean, however, that I can respect the cathedral with its arches, domes, windows, etchings, furnishings, crosses, rooms, and purpose while also respecting the gas station with its underground holdings, pumps, rooms, garage, over-hangings, and store. Both structures require planning, design, a vision, implementation, coordinated efforts, tenacity, artistry, and funding. One is not "better" than the other but each is used for different purposes. If studied for artistic elements to include line, creativity, imagination, beauty, and form, one would readily conclude the cathedral to be superior. Yet if one were to study the structures for usefulness and purpose (spiritual elements aside), one might suggest the gas station to be superior to the cathedral in terms of practicality, footprint, functionality, perhaps even form.

We tend to judge art based on our own interests and concepts (thank you Emmanuel Kant!) and tend to rely on so-called experts in the field to tell us what to appreciate and what to reject. But I submit that each work should be considered on its own merits rather than quantitatively ranking it by subjective criteria for qualitative purposes. In doing so we may find value in the simple, treasures within the commonplace, joys in the concise, and deep expression in the mundane. Applying this process does not mitigate the idea of excellence but it does give acknowledgement and affirmation to human creative efforts. It also does not minimize the role of artistic preference but, instead, allows for multiplicity and pluralization of cognition. Rather than saying "that is quality" or that is "not quality," we are able to evaluate art on its own merits.

Having circumnavigated the issue at hand, let us return to the basic question. Should academia only teach the finest examples at the exclusion of the lesser ones? Or should we attempt to demonstrate the differences, providing tools for application of all kinds of art whether that be visually, musically, or theatrically? I believe it is time to embrace the totality of the arts world and provide education and training that encourages and supports both the gas station and the cathedral. How do you build a gas station? With materials, planning, and hard work!