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The Miracle of Empathy: Art as Cathartic Creation

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Art as Cathartic Creation

Why do we make art? Is it simply to express ourselves, or is there something deeper? Ghanaian poet Kwame Dawes offers a profound perspective: 

“… the ultimate aim of my writing is to create an environment of empathy, something that would allow the miracle of empathy to take place, where human beings can seem to rise out of themselves and extend themselves into others and live within others.” 

This beautifully captures the essence of art as cathartic creation, a process that fosters connection and healing.

Frida Kahlo, Appearances Can Be Deceiving. © 2018 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

I’ve often struggled to explain to friends and family why I find seemingly gruesome or despairing art warm and healing. It’s akin to the way we put sad songs on repeat when we’re down—to feel our sadness more deeply, to process it, and to emerge, somehow, lighter. In those moments, we lose ourselves within something greater—a collective emotion — and we are purified as we release our own trauma and pain. Art provides this release, allowing us to confront and work through our emotions collectively, and to find connection through the miracle of empathy.

A few years ago, I invited a friend who was navigating a difficult breakup to a Frida Kahlo exhibition in Brooklyn.  She warned me beforehand that she neither visits art exhibitions nor “understands” modern art, but she approached the experience with an open mind. The exhibition featured a rich collection of Frida’s works, including a rare display of her wardrobe—an intimate reflection of her essence that had often been overlooked in the past.

Frida Kahlo lived with multiple disabilities throughout her life, including polio from an early age and the lasting physical trauma of a devastating car accident that left her body fractured and in constant pain. She often wore long skirts to mask her wounds and her asymmetric lower body. Yet she transformed clothes into both armor and art—carefully decorating her prosthetic leg and shoes with bows and embroideries, and painting intricate designs on her plaster corsets, turning them into canvases of self-expression.

Prosthetic leg with leather boot. Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo Archives, Banco de México, Fiduciary of the Trust of the Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo Museums. Photograph: Javier Hinojosa

I still remember how my body tensed and my legs weakened as I stood in front of these objects. They revealed a level of immense physical and emotional pain that felt impossible to fully comprehend. Yet in her paintings, self-portraits, and the fabulous dresses she designed, I found myself in awe of her courage to share her pain. From her fractured body burst forth a tremendous life force that defied the constraints of time, culture and human body.

The weight of the artist’s life lingered with us as my friend and I left that exhibition. Somehow, It felt like a part of our own sadness had been purged, replaced by a deeper connection to each other through the experience we shared together, and a small measure of strength borrowed from the legacy of a great artist.

Red dress and personal belongings from Frida Kahlo. “Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Be Deceiving” Exhibition at Brooklyn Musuem, 2019. Photograph: Dwayne Tang

A few years later, I visited Frida Kahlo’s home in Mexico City. A quote from Frida herself, printed on the wall, reads:

Pies para qué los quiero si tengo alas para volar.”

Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly.”

The languages we use to describe art are both a bridge and a barrier. Words often fall short when we try to explain what art makes us feel; yet, those feelings can be universally understood without words if we open our hearts to feel. This duality is part of what makes art so intimidating for some—it can seem wrapped in an elitist pursuit of meaning and analysis, burdened by price tags that threaten to void its intrinsic value. But at its heart, art remains simply about connection and the catharsis that emerges from that connection.

Art is that sacred bridge between people which transcends the limitations of language, enabling us to navigate and share emotions that often feel too complex to articulate through words alone.

Join us at Arts Ahead 2025 for a thought-provoking panel discussion on art-making as a form of cathartic creation.  Together, we’ll explore how art can foster catharsis, build community, and nurture creative expression, moving beyond the pressures of commercial production. Our aim is to collectively the conditioning of hustle culture, focusing instead on the importance of slowing down and creating space for genuine connection through art.

January 9th, 2025


Dwayne Tang is a multidisciplinary artist and arts manager with a background in film production, animation, and art history. He holds a Bachelor’s degree in Film Production from Bard College, New York, and is currently studying Arts Management at Centennial College, Toronto. His professional experience spans work as a film projectionist in movie theaters and film festival operations, digital marketing and content management, as well as roles as an assistant curator and arts educator. Dwayne is a passionate arts worker, collaborative team player, and curious learner who strives to bridge the creative and technical aspects of the arts and uncover new connections between its significant history and innovative future.

Reference:

Henestrosa, Circe. Frida Kahlo’s Construction of Identity: Disability, Ethnicity, and Dress. The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. 2020.

Smith, Jeremy Adam, and Jason Marsh. “Why We Make Art.” Greater Good, 2008

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