“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”
-Elie Wiesel
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I’ve been sitting here for quite some time now, staring at the quote above from Elie Wiesel. I had planned on writing about how my work evolved as a response to the indifference of others but now, looking at those words and putting them into the context of Wiesel’s experience, I feel a bit foolish. Wiesel, who had survived the Holocaust, was eyewitness to indifference on a grand scale, from those who were complicit or those who did not raise their voices in protest even though they knew what was happening to the personal indifference shown by his Nazi guards, as they turned a blind eye to the suffering and inhumanity directly before them on a daily basis, treating them as though they were nothing at all.
The indifference of which he speaks is that which looks past you without any regard for your humanity. Or your existence, for that matter. It is this failure to engage, this failure to allow our empathy to take hold and guide us, that grants permission for the great suffering that takes place throughout our world.
So you can see where writing about showing a picture as a symbolic battle against indifference might seem a bit trivial. It certainly does to me. But I do see in it a microcosm of the wider implications. We all want our humanity, our existence, recognized and for me this was a small way of raising my voice to be heard.
When I first started showing my work I was coming off of a period where I was at my lowest point for quite some time. I felt absolutely voiceless and barely visible in the world, dispossessed in many ways. In art I found a way to finally express an inner voice, my real humanity, that others could see and react to. So when my first opportunity to display my work came, at the West End Gallery in 1995, I went to the show with great trepidation. For some, it was just a show of some nice paintings by some nice folks. For me, it was a test of my existence.
It was interesting as I stood off to the side, watching as people walked about the space. It was elating when someone stopped and looked at my small pieces. But that feeling of momentary glee was overwhelmed by the indifference shown by those who walked by with hardly a glance. That crushed me. I would have rather they had stopped and spit at the wall than merely walk by dismissively. That, at least, would have made me feel heard.
Don’t get me wrong here– some people who are not moved by a painting walking by it without a glance are not Nazis. I held no ill will toward them, even at that moment. I knew that I was the one who had placed so much importance on this moment, not them. They had no idea that they were playing part to an existential crisis. Now, I am even a bit grateful for their indifference that night because it made me vow that I would paint bolder, that I would make my voice be heard. Without that indifference I might have settled and not continued forward on my path.
But in this case, I knew that it was up to me to overcome their indifference.
Again, please excuse my use of Mr. Wiesel’s quote here. We all want to be heard, to be recognized on the basic levels for our own existence, our own individual selves. But too often, we all show indifference that takes that away from others, including those that we love. We all need to listen and hear, to look and see, to express our empathy with those we encounter. Maybe in these small ways the greater effects of indifference of which Elie Wiesel spoke can be somehow avoided.
It’s a hope.
The painting at the top is a new piece that I call Memory of Night, inspired by Wiesel’s book, Night.
Redtree Times 
Thank you for expressing your feelings. The last paragraph is very strong–we all need to be more open and hear and see the people in our lives.
I think Wiesel’s quote cautions us about indifference as a response to anything. He warns that indifference can begin in any area of life and, once it is allowed to take root, has the potential to snowball and become deeply pervasive to the point that it becomes a kind of spiritual bankruptcy; people develop a habit of indifference over time. It is this habit of indifference that allows terrible things to happen. I don’t think you need to excuse the use of Wiesel’s quote. The German people, and the world at large, didn’t just suddenly become so indifferent that Hitler and his ilk could perpetrate with impunity such cruelty and horror upon on the Jews, the Roma, the LGBT community and the other groups they sought to marginalize and do away with. It started with people being indifferent to small things in their everyday lives.
You are absolutely correct. We tend to take things and people for granted, to overlook injustices– large and small– so long as they don’t affect us. We become accustomed to turning away and moving on without further thought. And, as in Germany of the 1930’s, there are always those who are looking to exploit this indifference.
On Sat, Apr 19, 2014 at 11:55 PM, Redtree Times wrote:
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A thoughtful and thought provoking post.
Thank you so much.
On Sun, Apr 20, 2014 at 2:48 PM, Redtree Times wrote:
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You’ve painted an extraordinarily strong sky. I’m particularly taken with the way the poles are canted in different directions, as though by the same swirling winds that disturb the clouds.
And unless I’m more blind than I thought, I don’t see any lines draped between the poles. They aren’t even dangling – they just aren’t there. What a powerful image that is — the winds are swirling, and there’s no way to pass the word.
Thought-provoking and surely a caution for our times. The image is stark and powerful. Thanks for sharing.