This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2011, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

An essay by writer Elaine Jarvik, published on the cover of The Tribune's Mix section on Sunday, June 12, posted the question of "Is Salt Lake City going bohemian?"

The think-piece considered the idea of a local arts renaissance, as well as asking how innovative are Utah artists and audiences.

Michael Christensen, an artist and arts activist, submitted this thoughtful response describing a collective "cultural identity crises":

Christensen writes:

"I work with the Utah Arts Alliance, a Salt Lake City-based arts nonprofit started by Derek Dyer in 2003. It's awkward for me to say just how creative 'we are,' first, because I can only speak for what I see — and second, because I don't want to blatantly plug all of the 'creative community' type projects that I am working on. (Not because they aren't worth plugging.)

I believe artists of Utah have a distinct opportunity to be uniquely creative, because we seem to have, well, a cultural identity crisis that could provoke individuals to question the status quo.

We have artists who seem to be viscerally compelled towards Mormonism, those who believe themselves to have "graduated" from Mormonism, those who hate Mormonism, those who aren't Mormon — never were, never will be—and yet must still set their watch to the conservative clock, or "religiously" adhere to, or create their own, sub-cultures in order to get anywhere.

Humans, in general, are creative. Damn creative. But Utahans are drawing from a particular source that sets us apart, sometimes to our dismay.

Fortunately, boundless discontent is a powerful tool to any creative resolution.

However, there is another piece to the puzzle (if it is a puzzle). People become notable artists by way of an ever-changing combination of factors, such as: talent level, good fortune, ability to adapt, and ability to network. But art, at its root, is appreciated subjectively. And it is often so that the loudest person becomes the most famous.

Belief in oneself, filling out gallery/ festival forms, schmoozing, becoming more persistent than the rejection that comes up, or maintaining professional relationships long enough to utilize them to further a career — these require abilities totally aside from the actual creation of art. They are, of course, important. But they aren't important if artists can't realize how important they are (from the perspective of the artist).

The creative community must be more accessible in order for artists to enter at their own level — great or small, loud or quiet. An 'inability' to be 'the best' shouldn't inhibit one from being appreciated, particularly when beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

And I would question the validity, significance, fire-ower, or longevity of any 'renaissance' that neglected such a vast amount of potential, and didn't draw from the quietest humanity. Art is humanity.

And if we want to believe that each life is worth appreciating, we have got to get out of any form of 'group-think' mind frame. A powerful art culture would accomplish that. And, if I may be so bombastic (I'm clearly capable), I think it's perhaps the only thing that can.

Thanks for asking for my opinion."

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Who we are, creatively

O To read writer Elaine Jarvik's original story, click here > http://bit.ly/lyGU3I