I woke up today thinking of this talk by Elizabeth Gilbert I had seen on TED close to a year ago. Gilbert is the author of the much hyped, instant success "Eat, Pray, Love." I still haven't read the book, and despite the mixed reactions to it by my friends, based in this talk I'll probably pick it up one day. In the meantime, I really appreciate what she talks about here. Check out this link.
I don't know a single artist who hasn't experienced some form of the fear and dread Gilbert touches on in this talk, whether it's self-inflicted or projected onto them. "What is it about creative ventures that seems to make us really nervous about each other's mental health, in a way that other careers...don't do?" she asks. "Why? Is it rational, is it logical, that anybody should be expected to be afraid to do the work that they feel they were put on this earth to do?"
I get a sense that as artists we are expected to either exhibit superhuman resistance to the pressure to "live up" to our previous work, or that we are so delicate and fragile that we will certainly shatter under the presumed pressure. Like Gilbert, I often find myself asking why is this onus especially heavy on artists? However, thinking about fear and uncertainty as a nearly universal condition of being an artist puts my own fear and uncertainty into context, and helps me feel a little better able to sit down to do the work every day, knowing that I've got good company.
3 comments:
I watched the video...there sure is a lot to think about with that.
Sometimes when I'm out photographing, something will come my way, and I think, "this is a gift" (from beyond).
Sometimes if someone talks to me, I will imagine that what they are saying is a message (from beyond). Its more interesting that way.
I felt like she was overemphasizing the value of people's reactions to her work. Although, if thats how she makes her living, then the public reaction is certainly very important.
But what if you had an experience where you were filled with that transcendant spirit and your product was not appreciated nor popular. I think that could happen. I'm proposing that sometimes the process might be complete without any need for outside judgment. For example, the poem entering the poet...it might be meant just for the poet and nobody else. Not that it would always be that way, I'm just suggesting that sometimes that might be the end point, and that has a value.
When I used to play guitar more often, I would feel "on" if I got to the point where my imagination of the sound I wanted to make merged with the sound I was hearing, without any attention being given to how to make the sound with my hands. And, that would feel good to me, even if nobody else heard me.
Of course, I enjoy positive feedback if I present something to others. Sometimes I think that my best Burning Man photos are probably behind me now. I didn't even make it into the calendar this year.
Anyway, that was a great talk, thanks for sharing it!
Steve, you bring up a good point. Not all creative work needs to be for public public consumption or outside judgement. I absolutely agree that sometimes the creation in itself contains the value. I think oftentimes work that is made without public consumption in mind is the stuff that keeps us sane and happy.
I feel like we're talking about two different types of creative output though. There's art that's just for us, and then there's the work that we strive to make as our job or as our compulsion that really needs an audience in order to make it complete, for a lack of my being able to think of a better way to put it.
I feel like most art has such a symbiotic relationship with its audience that it's nearly impossible to separate the value of the audience's reaction from the work itself. That value doesn't necessarily equate to money, or sales numbers, or number of readers/viewers/consumers, or even positivity. It's an inextricable relationship, though.
Also, in my experience, it's positive reaction to my work, and also my own positive feelings about my work, that sets up the largest block to my being able to carry forth with new work. My own expectations for myself is my own worst enemy. I start giving myself negative reviews before I even begin.
Whatever the case, I also feel the most on when I feel like the work "comes" to me or "flows through" me.
"needs an audience in order to make it complete" - very well said and understood!
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