45 Books Like Art on My Mind

I first read this book as an angsty artist in college. It was as if the Universe sent me a gift that I needed precisely when I needed it. Rilke–an older/wiser poet, wrote the 10 letters in the book to a young Franz Kappus–a budding/insecure poet. All artists suffer from insecurity, and Kappus wants to know if his poems are good and what he should do.

We all want to do Important and Good work (with capital I’s and G’s). Rilke gently and masterfully steers Kappus to understand that true art is a process and involves every aspect of an artist’s life, that it is often a lonely endeavor but worth it for so many reasons. I felt as if Rilke was speaking to me–as a loving grandfather–with words of encouragement, but also in truth. Nothing was sugar-coated, but I so related and wanted to be the wise creator that… show more.

This is by far the most comprehensive practical guide to being a working artist. I have taught a professional practice course for undergraduate art majors for decades. When I first started teaching this course, I cobbled together chapters from books and articles from everywhere to give the students the information I thought they needed. In 2009, the first edition of this book came out, and it immediately became the textbook for my class.

It really walks you through what happens in the art world and how to navigate finding a gallery or writing for a grant. It also has quotes from people in the field that are helpful. I recommend this book whenever someone wants to know how to get their career started, needs guidance on a contract, or just wants to take their career seriously and to the next level. 

I didn’t love this entire book from cover to cover, but what I did love, I loved deeply. It contemplates what indeed makes an artist an artist, ruminating on a variety of art makers–from Bonnard to Yoko Ono to Bob Ross to Eve Hesse and Sol LeWitt.

LeWitt’s letter to Eve is something that is seared into my brain. There’s profanity in it, so I won’t repeat any of it here, but it struck me to my core; my whole body agreed with his sentiment. Kimmelman is a skilled writer (duh, he was a New York Times art critic), and he manages to tell intimate stories of how things came to be, why we look at things the way we do, why we collect or want things–including lightbulbs.

It validated the idea that artists need to find the thing they are passionate about, trust that, and follow any and everything… show more.

I love this book. It taught me where colors come from. I had always heard that, at one point, Ultramarine was the most expensive pigment. Reading this taught me why, as well as why other pigments were/are so expensive.

The fact that Indian Yellow may or may not come from the urine of cows that are fed only mango leaves (in the country of India) was also discussed in the book. Finlay did her homework–traveling around the world–and then magically wove all the knowledge into truly interesting stories. I share tidbits and stories from this book constantly–do you know you are drinking bugs if you drink Campari? Well, you are. You certainly are. 

Lilla’s goal in this book is to show how identity politics threatens the electoral prospects of the Democratic Party. He argues that the party has thrown citizenship—the “we” in political conversation—out the window in favor of “personal identities in terms of the inner homunculus, a unique little thing composed of parts tinted by race, sex, and gender,” and that this will be electorally disastrous for the Democrats. But Lilla’s arguments show that it is disastrous for our national conversation as well. When we give personal identity weight in an argument (Lilla is superb at eviscerating the shopworn phrase “speaking as an X”) we turn the intellectual clock back to premodern times when arguments were settled by power and force.

Kronman is particularly good at describing the “tough” reasoning skills that underlie the thinking styles that have produced modern science and modern democracies. An example of these tough skills is what he calls the “ethic of depersonalization”: expressing arguments in a form available to all—a form not dependent on our emotions or personal experience. Identity politics, in contrast, gives weight to immutable demographic characteristics in ongoing political conversations.  It thus reverses centuries of progress in the intellectual march toward open, ecumenical inquiry, where personal characteristics do not trump rational argument.

We are living in a time when ideology, myth, superstition, and ignorance seem to have more influence than ever in shaping our future.

This excellent and important book by Shawn Otto explains the forces (political and economic) at work that are aimed at undermining the role that knowledge and rational empirical evidence might play in making rational public policy decisions. This includes the effort to weaken the role that science might ideally play in helping us to address real-world challenges.

As one who studies and seeks to assess disaster preparedness, response, and mitigation, I have come to believe this “war” on science holds the potential to give birth to ever greater and more expensive (especially in terms of human costs) disasters.  

Ellis chronicles the history of how the university turned from an institution of open inquiry into a political monoculture that requires those in it to adhere to a particular ideology. Ellis is particularly good at showing how the strengths of the traditional university were turned into weaknesses and allowed it to be captured by the adherents of identity politics. Old-style independent scholars are hard to organize, Ellis points out, because they are just that—independent. But these truly independent scholars were no match for the politically organized groups that wanted to use the university to advance a political agenda.

Campbell and Manning are sociologists who trace how a new moral culture of victimhood has given rise to political correctness. The new moral culture combines the properties of the old culture of honor and the old culture of dignity in a uniquely toxic way. The new victimhood culture borrows from honor culture its extreme sensitivity to insult, but borrows from the culture of dignity the tendency to call upon authorities and institutions to resolve disputes, rather than deal with them on a personal level. The victimhood culture is what has spawned the repressive campus environment of micro-aggressions, deplatforming, and bias response teams.

Mounk’s book is not about mental health per se, but I found that he provided a clear, compassionate framework for understanding the current obsession with identity politics – which, in my experience, relates to our current mental health crisis.

Prioritizing race, gender, and other aspects of identity means that we focus less on universal aspects of the human experience. As a therapist, I know that understanding our suffering from a universal perspective brings healing and transformation. We lose so much when we lose this.

Mounk’s book helped clarify my thinking about identity politics, and I didn’t find it narrow or polemical.