Is it a statement about the power of art, or about its futility? Probably both, but it made me think, above all, about its necessity: the creative drive that gives a work like Annea Lockwood’s “Piano Drowning” its urgency, with a musician defiantly playing the instrument while it slowly sinks; or that motivates a famous Bertolt Brecht poem supposing there will be singing in dark times, “about the dark times.”