There’s a feeling I get sometimes, when encountering a piece of art that resonates with me in an unexpectedly powerful way—addictive and exhilarating. When a show reaches out to grab my heart, somehow slipping through the bricks and mortar of my emotional walls, to pull me into the story. For the entire length, I am utterly transfixed. Delighted. Immersed. Completely and sincerely unguarded as I live through another’s eyes for awhile.

This can occur in moments of happiness, the work spiraling me ever higher by feeding off my own excitement. In moments of conflict, a controversial theme or statement challenging long-held beliefs and forcing me to examine what I thought was true. Or, as was the case with Space Captain...it can happen in moments of grief and personal loss. These works can provide a much-needed relief. A glimpse of light flickering in the tunnel ahead. A kind hand to guide you out of the darkness.

Loss isn’t a rarity in these recent times, unfortunately. I am not alone in needing an occasional reminder that empathy is all around us, ripe for the taking...even if it takes some people a little longer to get there.

Yes, art can make an audience think. It can make an audience furious and defensive. It can even make an audience cry. But sometimes, once in a rare while, it can bring an audience joy. We can leave our baggage at the door and come together in an invaluable moment of shared playfulness and connection. Art can show us what to believe in, what to hope for, and how to make it happen. It can remind us how to laugh.

So, please, let your walls down and laugh with us.

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Sincerely,

Raleigh Lench