Palette. Dried acrylic on plastic.
The jazz pianist Vijay Iyer said a few things recently that resonated with me. He was talking in particular about jazz improvisation and about the notion of a "career" - a label he rejects. I think his comments can apply equally to all the arts.
"My primary orientation is as an artist and what that means is that I make things. I don’t make things in order to make money—I make things in order to communicate, reflect, meditate, and connect with people. It’s a personal practice. It’s a spiritual practice. It’s a social practice. And that’s really the foundation of everything I do."
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"The most I can say is that it never feels finished to me—I never think I’ve mastered anything yet. I just think of myself as a student. I also work really hard on details and I don’t mean in an obsessive way—I mean in a patient way. You know when something is ready by not overthinking it and tapping into something that’s emotional and spiritual. You have to really wait until it hits you there and then you know you have something..."
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"What is success? When it comes to making art, I don’t know what that is. I know what’s genuine and I know what I want to hear...The main thing is the value of being a performer is that I get to listen to the audience the whole time. I listen very carefully to them. It’s not about listening to them clapping—it’s about listening to them breathing. What are their bodies doing right now in relation to what I’m doing and are we connecting? If I always listen to that, then it’s not about success in terms of album sales or awards. It’s actually about meaning something to people and reaching people and making a difference."
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These remarks are excerpts from an article in Fast Company, which came to my attention via the newsletter of the website Piano Street. Iyer is a classically-trained musician who studied both violin and piano, but he studied mathematics and physics as an undergrad at Yale, then started a doctorate in physics at Berkeley -- but music eventually won out. He's the recipient of a MacArthur grant and has recently been appointed to the music faculty at Harvard; meanwhile he is busy playing concerts and recording. Our friend Teju Cole recently performed with him in New York; Iyer has created a large performance work based on Open City.
I love Mr. Iyer. Seeing him a few years ago in St. Louis was a watershed moment. (Whatever the heck a watershed moment is, it was good!)
Posted by: bill | February 06, 2015 at 09:47 AM
I went from nursing grievances to seeing forms that were good.
Posted by: bill | February 06, 2015 at 09:50 AM
He explains the artistic impulse well.
I'm going to be spending a week in Cuba soon. The agenda is heavy on artistic presentations and lectures and get-togethers with artists of all kinds. Should be fascinating.
Posted by: Hattie | February 06, 2015 at 04:01 PM
This member of the audience breathed a happy breath connecting your image of the palette with the article on process and awareness and the rest!
Posted by: Vivian | February 06, 2015 at 04:48 PM
Hi Beth
So many wonderful photographs, drawings and fine, truthful words.
"..... In her struggle to make this conviction flesh through drama, a childhood teacher told her: "You pronounce the word art the way a nun might say the word Jesus"
Michael Billington ( Drama Critic ) on Joan Littlewood ( Radical British Actress )
Namaste
Michael
Posted by: michael lewin | February 07, 2015 at 12:14 PM
That palette image is as good as any work by the abstract expressionists, and better than some! Not for the first time I ask myself: where is the dividing line between intention and accident? Is it the ability to perceive an accidental effect (man-made or in nature) as beautiful what makes it beautiful? Or does beauty exist independent of any human perception? The sound of one hand clapping?
Posted by: Natalie | February 07, 2015 at 02:35 PM
This reminds me of an interview I heard years ago with Marcus Roberts, who said his role was to "enable the manifest power of the group", a spiritual charge. At the same time, my friendships with artists struggling to support themselves, and yearning to do so through their art, raises the question in my mind about whether sustenance is a parallel goal that is also worthy of respect.
Posted by: Duchesse | February 09, 2015 at 08:23 AM
I missed him in Montreal, Bill, and am sorry.
Michael - what an apt quote! It's always great to hear from you - I hope all's well with you.
Natalie - thanks for this comment and its worthy questions. Surely "found" images are just as beautiful as the ones we create, and their beauty (like the perfect gardens of lichens and moss growing on tree stumps in remote forests) is just as stunning even when they're unseen.
Duchesse, as someone who's always tried to make a living through the work of my hands and eyes, of course I too see sustenance is a worthwhile goal. For musicians like Vijay Iyer, money is no longer a driving force, maybe, but he is one of the rare and fortunate ones. Many of my musician friends are really struggling, with CD sales dropping, low prices for digital downloads, and far too many consumers who now see art as being free for the taking on the internet. It was never easy, and it's almost impossible now for artists in nearly every field to support themselves solely from their work.
Posted by: Beth | February 09, 2015 at 08:54 AM
Interviewer (Zachary Wolf): How do you see the work that you did versus the work that you do?
Philip Glass (at age 75): I don’t mean to give you a zen koan, but the work I did is the work I know, and the work I do is the work I don’t know.
That’s why I can’t tell you, I don’t know what work I’m doing. And it’s the not knowing that makes it interesting.
Posted by: Duchesse | February 09, 2015 at 05:35 PM