Thoughts on Aesthetics
Recently, I had coffee with Benn Rasmussen, Company Director of the innovative Ephemerui dance company. We talked about many things from yoga to the creative process in approaching dance and music. One of the things that stuck with me was our discussion on the creative time line and the consequences it displays in the artists’ work.
Artists constantly (for good reason) work on tight time schedules, meeting deadlines for grants, commissions, etc. while believing that they are exerting their will on time and the work itself. Countless hours are spent in the creative process until a final product is unveiled at a premiere or opening, but the work seems uninspired, or worse, contrived. After Benn and I discussed the possibilities of the cause of such mediocrity in the current generation of emerging artists, Benn was reminded of something Meredith Monk had told him about her creative process.
It is no secret that Ms. Monk rarely does commissions. It seems the current count of commissions she has accepted over her entire career rests around four or five. She explained the reason is because the artist is then working on someone else’s deadline. Not to mention she does not believe in “made to order art.” Benn clarified that Ms. Monk does not even work on her own deadlines, but the project’s deadline. Meaning that she spends the time getting to know the project so that it takes on a life of its own within the creative process, and after working diligently on the project, it reveals to her what it will be ultimately.
Upon first hearing this remark, I was somewhat skeptical. But when the creative process is dissected, how many times does a piece reveal itself to the creator? In my case, as I’m sure in many artists’ experiences, once taking a step back to simply examine what I’ve written, the piece is speaking. Most recently, through observation, it was revealed to me that an entire section of music must be discarded. This was not easy. I had worked for hours trying to perfect this particular section, so naturally, I wanted to do what I could to save it, but it was killing the piece as a whole. Once this was revealed, I had no other choice, but to throw out that section. Completely throwing out music is not how I typically work, and I believe this marks a new sensitivity in me as a composer. I only hope that this new perspective will last.
Benn shared a similar story and offered that these moments in themselves do not make anyone an artist, but the ability to put ego on hold and release attachment to the object/section in order to make that kind of decision makes the artist. Not many artists can afford to work this way both in regards to time and money because art has become so commercialized and the competition to the few prestigious commissions and prizes is fierce. If we as artists could only put our egos on hold and focus on our art, we could channel that precious perceptiveness of people like Meredith Monk, the artistic world would greatly benefit from the rejection of mediocrity. Until then, festivals, residencies, and commissions will be flooded with commercialized, uninspired hobbyists that pose as artists.
