Because I’ve
embarked on a journey to rediscover photography and writing in this new,
all-kids-in-school-phase of my life, I’ve been thinking about creativity a lot
lately. Can talent be created, or
is it already there, magically appearing like a genie beckoned with a simple
rub on a golden bottle? Can
creativity be taught? Can you
teach a person to be an artist?
Can a person teach herself a creative skill? Is it possible to remember things you learned in college
before you had children?
I do not have answers
to all of these questions. Yet. But, so far I can tell you that developing creativity boils down to
a simple equation.
Input=Output
So if you want to
be an artist or a photographer a writer, a musician, or a dancer, it follows
that you should surround yourself with good art, photographers that you admire
and want to emulate, writers that inspire you with their words, musicians who
play with their heart, and dancers who move to the beat of their own drum.
In other words,
what you put into your brain will come out of it in some form or another. I found this to be true with writing. I
need to read good work in order
to attempt to write good work myself. The same goes for visual art. I have to look at fine examples of
paintings and photographs to remind my eyes to see good light and to compose
elements within a frame.
But I don’t just read, and I don’t just look at examples.
I study them. I look at how
the artist crafts his work. I ask
questions. How did this
photographer light her subject? How
did he compose this picture? How could she have connected with the
subject? What is this artist’s
view of the world? What did this writer bring to the piece from his own
experience? How did she structure
this piece and why? What is the
sentence structure, how is the length varied, what is the tempo and why did the
writer choose that beat?
There’s a
misconception that artists are born geniuses and don’t have to work at it. That’s why it was a relief to read a
book by modern dancer Twyla Tharp entitled The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use It for Life. Tharp
shows her readers that you can’t just wake up and expect creativity to
happen. You have to work at
it.
Case in point: Mozart.
Do you remember the
film Amadeus? In that movie, Hollywood portrays
Mozart as a “gifted and undisciplined genius who writes as though touched by
the hand of God.”
But Twyla Tharp
writes,
“Of course, this is
hogwash. There are no "natural" geniuses. Mozart was his father's son. Leopold Mozart had
gone through an arduous education, not just in music, but also in philosophy
and religion; he was a sophisticated, broad-thinking man, famous throughout
Europe as a composer and pedagogue. This is not news to music lovers. Leopold
had a massive influence on his young son. I question how much of a
"natural" this young boy was.
Leopold taught the
young Wolfgang everything about music…He saw to it that the boy was exposed to
everyone in Europe who was writing good music or could be of use in Wolfgang's
musical development. Destiny, quite often, is a determined parent. Mozart was
hardly some naive prodigy who sat down at the keyboard and, with God whispering
in his ears, let the music flow from his fingertips.
Nobody worked
harder than Mozart. By the time he was twenty-eight years old, his hands were
deformed because of all the hours he had spent practicing, performing, and
gripping a quill pen to compose. That's the missing element in the popular
portrait of Mozart. Certainly, he had a gift that set him apart from
others…Still, few people, even those hugely gifted, are capable of the
application and focus that Mozart displayed throughout his short life.
…Mozart's focus was fierce; it had to be for him to deliver the music he did in
his relatively short life, under the conditions he endured, writing in coaches
and delivering scores just before the curtain went up, dealing with the
distractions of raising a family and the constant need for money. Whatever
scope and grandeur you attach to Mozart's musical gift, his so-called genius, his
discipline and work ethic were its equal.
No one can give you your
subject matter, your creative content; if they could, it would be their
creation and not yours. But there's a process that generates creativity -- and
you can learn it. And you can make it habitual.”
Mozart put a lot into his
music. He worked hard at it. He surrounded himself with musical
people. He studied examples of
good music. He “devoted much time
and thought” to his work. Yes he
had a natural affinity for music, but without the “application and focus” he
never would have achieved what he did.
His input affected his output, or you could say his output was a direct
result of his input.
Twyla Tharp argues that
creativity needs to be nourished to the point of habit. She writes of devoting time to
creativity every day. So if you
want to do creative work, plan for it.
Cultivate it. Look around
you for good examples. Read writing that inspires you. Notice things. Create an
inner sanctuary where you can, even for a few minutes, listen to yourself and
record your thoughts in whatever form you choose. Soon this practice will
become a habit, and your creative juices will flow more freely and more
frequently. The creative corner of your mind will wake up yawning and say, “You
want to use me again? I thought
you’d never ask.” And you who have always wanted to be an artist will be able
to call yourself one and feel that it is true. Because it is.
