Wednesday, December 14, 2016

leftovers: no matter what...

Hi all,

A couple of months ago, I wrote a post titled 'Where Does Art Come From'. This post explored a short story from Ryunosuke Akutagawa's Rashomon... collection called 'Hell Screen'.

One of the major themes in this work was creative inspiration. In a way, Akutagawa poses a simple question- how does one find the source of creativity within their own experience- and explored it through an examination of the consequences for a painter whose answers to this question perhaps did not align with Akutagawa's own feelings on the matter.

I enjoyed this story because I always find myself fascinated whenever an artist talks about the inspiration behind their work. Sometimes, these explanations merely outline the journey a creative work took in the process of growing from idea to finished product. Other times, the artist reveals a part of themselves previously unknown in a way that illuminates how the creative process functions for this person. (1)

One of my favorite examples of the latter comes from a VH1 show called Storytellers. This show allowed artists to mix performances with reflections on the meaning of their music. The result covered everything from funny anecdotes to deeply personal revelations about their work.

In one episode, my favorite rapper T.I. was featured. The entire episode, I thought, was excellent. But the clear best moment for me was his two minute introduction for 'No Matter What'.

In his reflection, he talks about the period of life during which he wrote this record. He was, by his own admission, in 'the most trouble I had ever gotten into in my life'- a significant comment from someone who was arrested several times prior to the age of fourteen. He suggests that in this difficult period, he recognized a pattern in his life to which he is perhaps about to contribute to again. He needed to consider ways to avoid doing the things he always did in similar past situations.

So, though crafting another 'ghetto anthem' would have been defensible given his significant commercial success with such records, T.I. decides to do something different with this experience. 'You have to find a way to make sense of all this,' he recalls for the audience at one point, confessing his innermost thoughts during the songwriting process.

The end result is my favorite T.I. song. The lyrics reflect a work in which T.I. confronts his own circumstances, poor decisions, and bad luck head on. He acknowledges his hurt and draws strength from it, using his pain as a turning point of sorts for how he processes his experience as a source of creative work.

'Life can change you directions
Even when you ain't planned it
All you can do is handle it
The worst thing you could do is panic
Use it to your advantage'

In another set of lyrics, he seems to point a finger at those in his field who are unwilling, uninterested, or incapable of doing this, instead relying on imitating others and constructing a lifestyle that they feel comfortable writing about in their own music.

'I show you how to do
What you do
You ain't got a clue
All you do is follow dudes
Sound like a lot of dudes'

The best part about this is, T.I. himself was in a way part of the group he describes. The commitment to a certain lifestyle contributed to the problems he faced. In acknowledging this aspect of his experience, he is again finding a way to make sense of his situation and laying out a path for himself to progress forward. Instead of taking the easy way out by sticking to familiar territory, he resolves to reflect, process, and understand his experience as the first step toward a different outcome in both his life and his songwriting.

The line that best summarizes 'No Matter What' comes towards the end of his Storytellers introduction. 'There's something in me, I don't know what it is, there's something in me that you don't got.'

In that line, T.I. summarizes a truth that I thought Akutagawa communicated in 'Hell Screen'- to bring a creative work into the world means drawing out what already resides within the deepest, most hidden depths of the artist.

The trickiest part is how the artist himself often does not know what is there. Only through commitment to processing one's honest experience is this possible. Constructing a fraudulent experience brings the truth of this process into considerable danger.

Thanks again for reading. Have a nice weekend and, hopefully, see you back again on Monday.

Tim

Footnotes / imagined complaints

1. As Patti Smith commented in Just Kids, an artist sees what others cannot.

Over the summer, I went to several jazz performances where the musicians paused between songs to talk about what inspired their creation of a particular piece. Generally, I saw absolutely no connection with their comments and their music.

Initially, I assumed this was some defect on the part of the performer. Surely, anyone can describe why they created something. Over the course of the summer, though, I recognized my immaturity in such a conclusion. There are many things I see which I cannot describe with any clarity, eloquence, or understanding.

My ear for music is less refined than those who perform a piece they have thought over and rehearsed for many hours. Over time, I'm sure I'll start to understand a little better what someone means when they reference a specific inspiration prior to a musical performance.