what does good art do?
September 27, 2007
I’ve gotten into this habit of reading the introductions to books. I used to think that they were a waste of my precious, ADD-riddled reading time, but one day I went there.
There was also a day where i found myself in a place where i thought i would never be; in a state of intrigue at a science-fiction novel. As i read of the child genius some of know as Ender Wiggin, I could not help but be fascinated at his peculiarity, his demeanor, and his intelligence. And when I got to the end of Ender’s Game, for a minute I thought I was holding the best book ever written. (No, I still don’t believe that to be universally true, but it’s now in my top 10 for sure.)
These two things intersected when I began to read the intro to Speaker For the Dead, the next book in the Ender Wiggin adventures. The story of how Speaker came about is pretty interesting:
- He began writing Speaker of Death,
- but then wanted Ender from his short story “Ender’s Game” to be the speaker,
- so he turned a short story into a novel, thus Ender’s Game.
- Then, he explored the idea of Ender being a family man and what it meant for someone like him to be a hero (and the title changed to Speaker for the Dead)
- Then, his agent sold the Ender Trilogy to a publisher, meaning that he had to write a third book,
- but in writing the 3rd, he realized that there had to be a 4th, which is where he was at the time he was writing the intro.
I’m sure that was interesting to maybe 2 of you.
But his last words of the intro might catch a few more of you:
“You see, the work of a storyteller doesn’t get any easier the more experience we get, because once we’ve learned to do something, we can’t get excited about doing exactly the same thing again – or at least most of us can’t. We keep wanting to reach for the story that is too hard for us to tell – and then make ourselves learn to tell it. If we succeed, then maybe we can write better and better books, or at least more challenging ones, or at the very least we won’t bore ourselves.
“The danger that keeps me just a little frightened with every book I write, however, is that I’ll overreach myself once too often and try to write a story that I’m just plain not talented or skilled enough to write. That’s the dilemma every storyteller faces. It is painful to fail. But it is far sadder when a storyteller stops wanting to try.”
Musicians have been storytellers for a long time. We have long applauded the good songwriters who have learned how to craft words into stories with which we can’t help but to engage. But I will suggest to you that today, there are too many stories that have gone untold by our most influential musicians. Most of them are busy singing about this man or that car or those women. Don’t they know that there are so many stories out there that need to be told other than their own?
Artists need to pay attention, for there are stories out there that could change lives that need to be told with our art. Yes, some of them might be hard to tell; that’s part of the process. Let’s not buy into the crackpot notion that creating is always supposed to be easy. There is a beauty in the development and shaping and forging of a work over time and through many revisions. But the terrible day comes when the artists stops wanting to tell stories, because on that day they have lost a part of their soul.
I know that for most artists, motivation is hard to come by. Our world is not exactly artist-friendly. People like you when you make stuff they like, but when you don’t they are all over you. And then the competitive nature of artists when they are around each other is enough to drive them miles away from each other as quickly as possible. But there are people who need to hear some stories. They need to hear them told with emotion, with sincerity, with truthful interpretation, and with grace. Maybe some of you don’t like the song that Pink wrote addressing our President, but she told a damn good story. It made you interact with your feelings and question her opinions. It made you form truth of your own and think about things far more important than whether or not your clothes match. It made you cry thinking about how much of that reality is your own. It gave you passion enough to wake you from the doldrums of your social and political apathy. This is what a good storyteller does.
You should be motivated by the fact that you can stir people’s hearts for justice and righteousness. You should be motivated by the idea of waking people up from their apathetic and self-indulgent lives, for it is these two things that are spearheading our society’s downward spiral. Some stories are going to make people think differently about men and women. Some will inspire people to seek out their true destiny. And some will move thousands to bring change in areas where it is thirsting for some. And you can be at the front end of that. That’s where I’m going. Who wants to come with me?
an introduction…
September 20, 2007
A while ago, I was talking to my friend Jessica about music, and from our conversation I wrote the following…
This is the nature of the iPod revolution:
people’s thoughts are being formed with the help of music.
people’s emotions are being articulated with the help of music.
music is helping us decide how we feel and think about relationships, religion, love, politics, money, spirituality.
our iPods are our classrooms, the music is the material, and the musicians are our teachers.
In case you can’t tell, I’m a musician. For much of my life I have invested my time and energy into becoming a better artist, thinking that if I become the best artist I can, my art will effect people. But for the past couple of years, I have been thinking and reading about the relevance of music (and art in general) to society and how it continues to gain people’s influence. My thoughts have centered around the idea that if artists learn what it means to make good art and apply it faithfully, their art can be the impetus for history-altering movements all around the world.
When I think about such a thing, my heart starts to beat faster. Dreams and visions begin to flood my brain. This feeling of hope and joy and peace enters my heart. I feel like I am tapping into deeply buried, extremely valuable treasure. I feel like life is worth living, much more than ever before.
What do I want? I want for this generation of artists to understand what they have been given, and how to use it. I want for this generation of people to understand the world around them, and what they have to offer to it. I want for the next generations to be inspired by the passion and effectiveness of our generation, and I want for our generation to be inspired by the truthfulness and beauty of their artists. In the past, it’s been politicians and professors that have “had the mic.” Today, it’s the athletes and artists. I am an artist. I want to say something relevant. I want to tell the truth. I want to move people unto revolutionary action. And I want for my fellow brothers and sisters to want the same thing.
If you are an artist, be inspired. Be encouraged. Be attentive. Be careful, but be bold.
There is something to say, and we have the mic.