Category Archives: creativity - Page 17

iterations

very few creative acts “just happen.” works of art are the culmination of everything that an artist has done. even in what would appear to be complete chaos, an artist’s entire process of becoming is present in a piece of work. in a very real sense, each piece is a snapshot of artistic development. that means that every creative effort is the current endpoint for an artist and the stepping stone to the next. with that in mind, i believe in getting it done.

somewhere on the intarwebz i came across the manifesto of the cult of done. these are the thoughts put down by a couple of guys who understand that each piece of work is part of a greater process. i liked the idea so much that i printed it up and hung it on my studio wall. it fits perfectly with my weekly sketch routine.

the reason that i do a sketch a week is to enforce personal discipline and development. many of the tunes i produce will end where they are and that’s fine because they lead to what is next. the act of recording and mixing a new song each week forces me to look at how i create, the tools that i use, and the kind of attention each piece demands. it also feeds what is to come. so while a given sketch may not be what i would consider a polished final product it is no less valuable for the role it plays in getting me to that next step.

my thesis is this: no one improves without many iterations. fish didn’t just jump out of the ocean and start picking apples. it took a while. creative work is the same way. brilliant pieces like “petrushka” didn’t spring fully formed from stravinsky’s head. it took him years of experimentation and hard work to develop the techniques necessary to produce such a thing of beauty. though a composer may only have a handful of pieces that are recognized as a part of the oeuvre, there are probably piles and piles of manuscripts that never saw the light of day. experiments. exercises. call them what you will, but for every truly great piece of music there are probably dozens of things that were, at best, scribbles on paper.

maybe that’s one of the better things about the time we’re living through: it’s pretty inexpensive to be prolific. well, for some disciplines anyway. a few gig of space here and there that can be recycled when it’s all over is pretty nifty. the immediate feedback of being able to commit a performance to the computer and hear it instantly is nice too. add a blog or some file space on the internet and there’s no good reason not to produce as much as you can (or want).

this is not to say that everything should be rushed. far from it. composing a major work can take years. it shouldn’t be pushed at an overly aggressive pace. at the same time, maybe it shouldn’t be the only thing that is in production. i like to keep several things in the air so that when i’m stuck on one i can move to another. it keeps the routine of creativity in tact without forcing bad decisions on a piece. of course if we stick with the “cult of done” model and recognize that everything is a draft, it’s a different ballgame.

and i’m not so sure about that.

in my personal creative process i never know what’s going to take off. i seldom sit down and say “i am going to write something that goes dah-dee blah boop-boop…” instead, i start noodling around. i sketch. play things over and over. create variations. invert ideas. switch up instruments. process things until they are unrecognizable. at no point in this series of experiments do i know when “it” is going to hit. or even if it will hit at all. while that’s certainly part of the fun, it’s not always very satisfying. it’s that feeling that someone at a slot machine gets…it hit once, it has to hit again! and indeed, if i pull the lever enough times, something will turn up. i keep sketching until it does.

so about sketches. they’re great. the more one does, the better the chances are for technical improvement and the more opportunities there are for powerful inspiration to worm its way into the work. once that tiny germ shows up, things can explode. in a very real way, this idea of producing as much as you can and really getting it done creates a deeper pool in which great ideas can grow.

take the project and get it done. “done is the engine of more.”

artists and connectivity

The Byronic Ideal.

There is an image of the artist as a lonely individual wrestling with a recalcitrant muse somewhere on the periphery of society.  This creature on the outside looking in and fashioning what he sees or feels into art that is then absorbed by that of which he cannot be a part.  I have always had a love-hate relationship with this idea.  There is something so alluring about this Byronic image that it pulls people in and allows them to create rich and full fantasies about what it must be like to feel that isolation and how that led to a piece of art.  Yet, most people who create are not antisocial.  The most serious artists fully understand that engagement with the community and culture is essential.  After all, what is a piece of art without an audience?  I would argue, without the requisite citations to greater minds than mine, that something that is created purely for personal pleasure and not for an audience can’t really cross the line that separates craft or recreation from art-with-a-capital-A.

The central thesis of my personal artistic creed is simple: intent.  It is art if I intend for it to be.  By virtue of presenting it to an audience I admit that I planned for someone else to experience it and therefore must have considered that during the creation of the work.  How it is actually received is another matter but the fact that it was presented is the key.  It proves that I am a part of the culture and community and there can be no claim that I am somehow outside.  To say that would imply that I am somehow immune to the influence of the culture and yet am adding to the body of work that creates it.  That feels silly.

Instead, the model that seems to make the most sense is the artist as canary.  Perhaps the creative spirit is more in tune with its environment and is better able to express the things which are so obvious as to go unnoticed.  This puts the artist in opposition to the Byronic hero model in that now there is a hypersensitivity and awareness to everything in the culture.  Thus art becomes less of an objective observation and more of a deeply felt reaction.

As my personal beliefs fall on the side of the reaction, I see that the artist needs an audience and in this age, the audience needs the artist.

Enter the Internet.

In some small but real way the Internet has become the great equalizer (a lovely cliche in 2009!).  Given that an individual has the financial wherewithal to have access to a computer and the Internet, it is possible to share creative works with an astoundingly large audience.  A writer needs only to set up a web presence, and with certain free services and social networking sites this is incredibly simple, and place work in the open.  A composer can place sound files or scores online.  An artist has the ability to create a gallery space.  None of these is ideal.  There isn’t the feedback of the physical book or a concert hall or even the traditional gallery space, but the work can reach an audience. 

There will be no discussion here about the quality of the work or the audience.  That has been beaten to death by critics and various organizations with a significant state in the status quo.  Yes, more access means more work of lesser quality.  Without some sort of cultural gatekeeper the audience may be subjected to some poor examples of art.  But is that single nugget of gold worth all of the silt in the stream?  And how many such nuggets of gold might have gone unseen?  I say we should err on the side of too much and let time sort it out as it always does.

My primary concern is with the connections between the creative minds.  The culture we inhabit today is a far cry from even 50 years ago when people knew and regularly socialized with their neighbors.  It is even further removed from the time of community functions that brought together people from great distances to enjoy large celebrations.  The closest we come today might be greeting our neighbors as they light fireworks in the street on New Year’s Eve.

There is also the restriction of the current standard of living.  To live the way we do requires the expenditure of a great deal of effort.  This means more painters working in offices and more musicians programming computers.  The Internet provides a place for people who are physically separated to come together asynchronously.  Today it is easy to follow a group of blogs in a few minutes.  One can keep up with interesting trends and there are enough people publishing their work this way as to create a steady diet for anyone who has an appetite.  In many cases, the most insatiable appetites belong to other artists.

This is a key component that makes publishing on the Internet so important.  Artists need other artists.  The input that can only be gotten in the form of other creative work is so important to personal artistic development.  The creator is in the position to reach an audience in the generic sense and also to get feedback and input from other minds.  This can’t be ignored.

Islands.

With the advent of the blog and RSS feeds, the people who are putting loving detail into their work in a spare bedroom at odd hours are able to share with the world.  In turn, through comments and perhaps counter-posts on other blogs, the world gives back.  This give and take inspires continued work and discussion.  It promotes creativity and connects these islands in a very real and tangible sense.

I know of plenty of people who are in the same boat that I am.  There is the day job that eats 11+ hours.  There are meals to plan, a household to run, a family to raise.  But that urge to create something else bubbles up and claims maybe an hour or two out of what’s left.  This is what I used to call my “other time” and what eventually became my personal website. 

A spare bedroom becomes a studio.  A laptop turns into a portfolio.  Resources are arranged in a way as to allow for that creative energy to find release.  A new instrument is learned because the available time is not contiguous or a connection can’t be made with another musician.  One person slowly becomes an ensemble.  An entire creative ecosystem is created, terrarium-style, in the available space and time.  With the Internet, cross pollination becomes possible.  Collaborations begin.  Someone takes a piece and turns it into something new.  An illustrator teams up with a distant writer.  Musicians work asynchronously to create pieces together.  Beautiful things move from possibility to reality because some of the restrictions on time and space are relaxed.

I won’t begin to touch on what putting that work out in the open creates in terms of new possibilities.  “Mash-up” and other derivative works can generate new genres and more importantly add new life to the art that is being created around us.  It is a great time to be a creative mind.  Limitations are few and opportunities are many.

permission

probably the single most important thing i have ever done creatively was giving myself permission to not be good at everything that i do. in school i was a part of the nerd brigade. advanced this, a.p. that. the expectations were high and my performance was generally pretty good. the downside of this was that i didn’t encounter a lot of failure and when i did, there was such a negative reaction that i quickly found myself in the mindset of “if i’m not good at it, i won’t do it and then i can’t fail.” this is not a very useful way to get through life.

no one person is going to be good at everything and trying to be must lead to a painfully neurotic sensibility that can’t be much fun to be around. we have to be free to try new things and make mistakes. without mistakes, there is no learning. after all, when was the last time anyone learned something from doing it perfectly?

this all leads to my instrument building. taking things down to the bottom is a lot of fun. sometimes it’s not enough to simply play the guitar, one must build it first. it all sounds silly, but it has brought unforeseen levels of satisfaction. i started with a kit a long time ago (or so it seems) and now i have a lot more than just a pile of good looking kindling.

starting from a kit has taught me a lot. i can see how everything fits together and without having to fabricate the parts i can focus on construction. there has been time to build jigs, acquire clamps, and fashion a workspace that is flexible and functional. the way i’m thinking now though, it will be guitar number four that will be the first “good” instrument. maybe.

this first guitar is from a kit and it has some issues. i made several mistakes from which i couldn’t really recover. the next guitar will be from scratch so who knows what i’ll screw up when fabricating the parts. the third guitar will likely be more shaking out of bugs in my process. but number four should be something decent. or maybe it won’t. it doesn’t really matter because i’m just excited to be doing it. and that’s the way things should be.

here are some pictures of my current progress:

braced top

braced top

clamped top

clamped top

side braces

side braces

clamped back

clamped back

music is coming up this thursday. i have a sketch that feels pretty good and i’m expecting it to come together nicely by then.

fermata

a lot of things have conspired to get in the way of me posting new music tonight. the acquisition of logic studio led to a ton of screwing around with various loops and cool plug-ins. i even did some time with the cool apple training book for logic. so there was a lot of looping and messing with my keyboard but not a lot of productivity. sometimes, that’s how it goes.

i have, however, made serious inroads on the guitar. the top and back are now completely braced and i should be able to attach them to the sides this weekend. there is so much to be learned from building this kit. when i start my first “from scratch” guitar i will have a much better idea of what i’m doing and will be able to avoid a ton of mistakes.

on another note, i was struck by something a friend said the other day about it being impossible to be robinson crusoe any more. with the pile of “social networking” sites and the internet being what it is, simply disappearing isn’t much of an option any more. i contrast that with friends i know who are, like me, semi-islands. we huddle off by ourselves in spare bedrooms, learning to play other instruments because we don’t live lives that allow for collaboration on our terms. there is some brilliant work being done out there on those islands and cast onto the waves like a message in a bottle. romantic, huh? i kinda like it.

i know from google analytics that people are looking at what i do. i get feed back. i try to give as much as i can when i find others in similar situations. i use the facebooks and myspaces of the web to broadcast to as wide an audience as i can find. in a sense, for artists living today these are the most connected and isolated of times. especially for those of us with day jobs.

that’s been rattling around in my head for some time and i don’t know that it makes any more sense now that it’s on the screen.

discipline

it feels really good at the end of the day to have something to show for your work. the downer is that you really have to put the time in. even if it’s an hour a night. take me back 10 or 15 years and i’d laugh at the idea that an hour can make a difference, but it does. it makes all of the difference.

what makes that hour work for me is that i think about it all day. when there is no guitar around and no access to musical expression i find that i think about it more and more. this means that when i do hit the studio my mind is focused even if my hands aren’t quite there. music is mostly a mental game and realizing that can go a long way toward improving one’s output. it really works for me. the results of this week’s sessions is at the bottom of the post.

something that i did for myself this week was pick up two books on beginning and intermediate jazz guitar. both of them are by jody fisher. SG is confused as to why i’m messing around with them. “you went to your fanci conservatory. you already know that stuff, right?” yeah, but that isn’t really the point of the exercise.

the author of “zen guitar” mentions that we must each “put on the white belt.” that is to say, assume the role of the novice and open ourselves to learning. i want to start with something brutally simple and see what i have missed or forgotten. studying my instrument is a passion and i want to feed it. what better way than to focus on the beginning?

i’ll let you know how it goes. maybe i’ll make that my tuesday post…a jazz guitar progress update. i’m starting to sound like my buddy rande. ok. it’s a done deal. tuesdays i will update my progress and thursdays will remain sketch days.

stay focused.

here’s the latest sketch. drop me a line and let me know what you think if you get a second.

sketch-18-feb-2009

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sketch 18-feb-2009 by j.c. wilson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at www.othertime.com.
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://othertime.com.