"Art is only a means to life, to the life more abundant. It is not in itself the life more abundant. It merely points the way, something which is overlooked not only by the public, but very often by the artist himself. In becoming an end it defeats itself"
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Miller’s jab isn’t aimed at “art” so much as at the modern temptation to turn art into a sealed-off religion: a self-justifying activity that replaces living rather than sharpening it. The phrase “life more abundant” borrows the cadence of scripture, then immediately refuses the devotional conclusion. Art can gesture toward transcendence, he admits, but it’s still a finger pointing, not the moon. The bite is in his insistence that both audiences and makers prefer the finger because it’s easier to fetishize: you can buy it, curate it, praise it, build a personality around it.
The subtext is anti-careerism and anti-aestheticism. Miller came up against institutions that elevate “Art” into capital-A status: critics, salons, censors, patrons, and the polite norms that decide what counts as serious. In that ecosystem, the artist is incentivized to treat production itself as salvation - more books, more exhibitions, more proof of genius - until the work becomes an alibi for not engaging the messy, erotic, embarrassing business of being alive. That’s why his warning lands on artists “very often”: the trap is internal. You can hide inside craft, inside ambition, inside the identity of “creator.”
His final line is practically a moral paradox: when art becomes an end, it “defeats itself.” Not because beauty is worthless, but because art’s energy comes from contact with experience. Sever that contact and you get virtuosity without appetite, culture without consequence - a monument to living that quietly substitutes for it.
The subtext is anti-careerism and anti-aestheticism. Miller came up against institutions that elevate “Art” into capital-A status: critics, salons, censors, patrons, and the polite norms that decide what counts as serious. In that ecosystem, the artist is incentivized to treat production itself as salvation - more books, more exhibitions, more proof of genius - until the work becomes an alibi for not engaging the messy, erotic, embarrassing business of being alive. That’s why his warning lands on artists “very often”: the trap is internal. You can hide inside craft, inside ambition, inside the identity of “creator.”
His final line is practically a moral paradox: when art becomes an end, it “defeats itself.” Not because beauty is worthless, but because art’s energy comes from contact with experience. Sever that contact and you get virtuosity without appetite, culture without consequence - a monument to living that quietly substitutes for it.
Quote Details
| Topic | Art |
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