On Art & Authenticity

The film Wicked invites us to think about what it means for art to uphold a modern ideal of authenticity

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The Comic Muse in the Vatican Museums. Photo courtesy of my son, Francis McInerny

The other day I was comparing Fra Angelico’s The Adoration of the Magi with the new film adaptation of the Broadway show Wicked…

And as I concluded my comparison I said the following:

“The chief question provoked by this comparison of Fra Angelico’s tondo with a film such as Wicked is whether art made outside the context of festivity is art that nourishes us.”

I haven’t seen the film adaptation of Wicked. I saw the stage musical in Milwaukee some 15 years ago, but I don’t remember it well enough to pass judgment on it. But in reading certain things about the film here on Substack, I cannot help but reflect further on the problem of the proper “home” for the arts in our time.

A mental health professional named

Jor-El Caraballo

, on his Substack Coffee & Contemplation, makes this observation about Wicked:

“While I haven’t seen the Wicked story in its entirety [only the first part of the story has been released], I sense that part of act two is Elphaba’s acceptance of who she is, how the world sees her, and her choices to act from a place of internal power and alignment with her own values. Just the thought of this potential story arc provides me with inspiration to keep giving myself permission to be authentic and visible in meaningful ways. I hope that it inspires you to do the same.

“Of course, being authentic to oneself is complicated. On one hand it can be an incredible privilege reserved for those who live in safer micro-enviroments and cultures. On the other hand, sometimes authenticity is hardly a choice at all, but more so a mandate for survival, and challenges to our ability to embrace it leaves us questioning whether there is value in life at all.”

What Caraballo appreciates here is the ideal of authenticity he finds celebrated in Wicked. And what definition of authenticity does Caraballo see the film defending? Namely, the ability “to act from a place of internal power,” in “alignment” with one’s own “values,” which becomes, for those in unsafe environments, “a mandate for survival.”

To be sure, authenticity in some sense is a valuable characteristic of any fulfilling human life. But the problem is that Caraballo’s conception of authenticity cannot bear the moral weight he places upon it. Authenticity means that someone is living according to one’s highest ideals. But if the source of one’s highest ideals is nothing more than “a place of internal power” aligning with one’s own “values,” then authenticity can only devolve into the assertion of choice. As I’ve argued before,

“We all want to find a community who will accept us for who we are. But that cannot mean that every declaration of self-worth is truly authentic.

“For if choice alone is what makes meaning in our lives, then no choice is more significant than any other. If you declare that your authentic life consists in eating at every McDonald’s restaurant in the United States, there is nothing that anyone can say about it….

“Significant choice is predicated upon there being sources of real value and meaning outside the self.”

A rich notion of authenticity demands, not just choice, but a companion notion of something that guides and shapes human choice.

A good candidate for this “something” is human nature itself, and above all human nature in its best, most flourishing state.

When our choices are “measured” by what is best for the kind of being that we are, then our choices rise above the trivial (“I declare that my authentic life consists in eating at every McDonald’s restaurant in the United States”) and become truly significant.

Elsewhere in his discussion, Caraballo hits upon this theme when he mentions the importance for an authentic life of not shrinking and hiding because of the color of one’s skin. Skin color—ethnicity—is clearly an essential property of a human being.

But there are other “authentic” values that Caraballo seems to affirm that are far more contestable, such as what he calls “gender affirming care for minors.” One can well argue that a choice to “transition” from one gender to another is not health care at all, but mutilation of one’s natural properties.

None of which is meant to be a commentary on Wicked itself. For the record, another writer on Substack, Susanna Schwartz at

The Enchanted Window

, claims that Wicked, far from being a celebration of choice, makes “a very real claim that there is objective good.” (Hat tip to

Freya India

, who alerted me to Schwartz’s article.)

Be that as it may, my point has to do with art, and the proper “home” for the arts. Josef Pieper, recall, argues that the arts remain “homeless” as long as they exist outside a setting of genuine festivity. And because genuine festivity demands an affirmation and celebration of all that is not mere human choice, all that is given to us human beings sheerly as gift, then works of art that affirm an ideal of authenticity conceived as nothing more than “internal power” based upon a “chosen value” cannot be genuinely festive.

I’d love to hear what you think.