Posts Tagged ‘inspiration’

Artistic Inspiration

Monday, November 8th, 2010

One of the luxuries most artists have, which designers (and other artists for hire) do not have, is the ability to create on their own schedule. Someone who paints, or draws, or sculpts just for the fun of it can take as long as they would like to create something. If a canvas, or a comic book, or a screenplay takes them 25 years to finish, so be it. For a designer, specifically a theatrical designer, we have a hard deadline of opening night. No matter the circumstances in our lives, we have to get up and be creative. We go to work and we make art.

One of the most difficult issues that an artist grapples with is inspiration. Well, inspiration and money, but we’ll focus on the aesthetics for now. For the artist on their own schedule they have the leisure and good fortune to wait until inspiration descends upon them. For the designer or artist-for-hire we must grab inspiration when we need it. Sometimes it is like a hunt, trekking through dense jungles of the subconscious searching, in vain, for that elusive thing called inspiration.

While not every project will be inspired from the depths of one’s soul there are ways of creating inspiration. This may sound odd to those used to waiting for inspiration to strike them, but it can not only be done, but can be done quite effectively.

One of the most direct ways to find inspiration is other artists. Now, if you are designing scenery for Billy Budd perhaps other productions of the opera are not the best route to take as that will often lead to second rate derivative works. But one might look to 18th century paintings of naval vessels for a literal interpretation. Perhaps if you want to echo 20th century political themes, your research might take you to the constructivists.

Personally I find photography to be one of the most resonant mediums for me to find creative inspiration. The work of Richard Misrach is one of my standard go to texts. His formal study of light, using the same exact frame, to capture myriad skies, gives an almost limitless source of inspiration for thinking through a sky drop.

Paul Strand is a favorite for thinking through abstract spaces. His 1915 print Wall Street is a strikingly theatrical look at the real world. Almost operatic in scope, this simple morning scene is transformed through the artist’s rendering of light and shadow. His The White Fence takes another infinitely mundane scene and transforms it into an abstract canvass of great depth and drama. While any reproduction will never do justice to his original platinum print, the frame alone is a powerful thing of beauty.

For more abstracted pieces, I find the work of Man Ray to be singularly useful. His profound humanism, framed within a surrealist approach, brings to life a world of deep and primal emotions. Cindy Sherman provides a very similar frame, though firmly rooted in the world of color.

Several painters I find particularly useful when a color palette just won’t come to me. Marc Chagall’s color sense is almost unparalleled in his ability to convey deep and serious emotions while maintaining an air of play in his works.

Another great source for color is the natural world. While there are any number of computer programs that can pair colors for you that will look good, nothing beats looking at fruit and vegetables. An heirloom tomato, or a banana, or a cucumber, or a honey dew melon, have a perfect color palette ripe for the taking.

Sometimes listening to music can be a powerful inspiration. Other time I just need to get out of my studio and go for a walk through the park, or the cemetery.

When you are feeling uninspired by a project it can be almost painful to get out the drafting pencils and get to work. Spending some time with some great art is never a waste. And it might just be the springboard to a beautiful design.

On Inspiration

Monday, May 10th, 2010

The question of inspiration is one that is central to any creative person. While inspiration might not be thought of in the moment, its lack is one of the most terrifying things to be felt in a creative pursuit. Writer’s block is probably the most commonly heard version of this, but the problem can plague anyone working creatively.

While there is no surefire cure for the problem, there are numerous strategies we can employ to not only prevent it from arising in the first place, but to create a plethora of creativity such that we never approach such a situation. For those of us working on deadlines, like an opening night, we quite literally do not have time to be bogged down with writer’s block. We must simply get to work.

Inspiration can come from any direction and often can hit us by surprise when least looking for it. While we can not ensure that we will be struck by inspiration we can create situations that will increase the chances that we will. In short, we can create our own luck. We may not know what bit of stimulus will spawn a creative flurry, but we can be open to new sources of stimulus, new ideas, new images, new sounds, new people, and new art. Ninety-nine percent of all this will just be enjoyable diversion, but that one percent is invaluable. That one new painting, or new restaurant, or random conversation will spark a creative fire that could not have happened without it.

This kind of luck requires two discrete actions on our part. The first is access to novelty. We must actually experience these things. We must go to the museum, or the movie, or the concert, or the library. This is the easy part. Every day we are exposed to novelty if we are open to seeing it. And that is the second, deeper, and more difficult aspect of this. We must be open to new experiences. We must train ourselves to see things in a new light. Inspiration often comes from seeing the familiar in a new and unique manner. We must take each moment as the new, unique, and novel thing that it is.

I find exposing myself to new art, new music, new people and so forth to be mandatory as an artist. Seeing the old as new, reframing the familiar as the novel, is a powerful exercise to increase novelty in your life and thus increase your luck in discovering the right spark for that next project. Situationists like Guy Debord used techniques like the derive to give new meaning to the familiar environment of their well worn urban streets.

While the SI looks a bit old fashioned from the perspective of the early 21st century, their techniques, or variants on them, can be profoundly powerful. Breaking with routine has an amazing effect on the creative mind. That break in routine can be through something wholly new, or it can come from turning the familiar into the novel.

I find music to be a powerful source of inspiration. While I will certainly listen to a single album, score, or a general genre, one thing I love to do is put my entire music collection on shuffle and hit play. The juxtaposition of a Mozart symphony with minimal techno with gangsta rap presents me with a kind of aural derive drifting between radically different musical styles, causing my mind to reprogram connections as it finds similarities between previously disparate songs.

I remember, years ago, going to a poetry event somewhere in the East Village. There were people reading works, and poems on the walls to be read. There was music, and wine, and shifting lighting. Perhaps a bit more raucous than what many people think of when they think poetry event. But then this is New York. There was a station set up with a typewriter. Guests were encouraged to sit down and write for five minutes. It was timed. When the timer was started, in addition to the lighting and music for the general room, a boom box was played, flashlights were shined on the person, and several books were read aloud right in their ears. The effect of this was to wholly shortcircuit the thinking rational part of the brain and leave only the creative generative part able to function in the sensory barrage. Manufactured Inspiration.

One of the simplest sources of inspiration I find is in living life. Simply being open to experience and aware of one’s surroundings and interactions with others can provide a deep and rich palette upon which to draw. Unfortunately too many people sleepwalk through their interactions in life. With a focus on what could have been or what might be they fail to actually take the time to appreciate what is. Being in the present is where the creative power lives. Cultivating presence of mind is an invaluable exercise to build one’s creative muscles.

The quest for inspiration is eternal. As we move through experiences our perception of different inputs as sources for inspiration will shift and change. It is necessary to be vigilant and create opportunities for inspiration that change with our changing needs.

What inspires you?

Content with form

Monday, April 17th, 2006

In a comment on one of Zay’s posts I referenced an article by David Steindl-Rast titled The Mystical Core of Organized Religion. While the essay itself focuses around the relationship between Mysticism and Religion, it is directly applicable to the issue of attempting to describe creative consciousness. Here is an excerpt.

What happens with ritual? At first, as we have seen, it is a true celebration. We celebrate by remembering gratefully (everything else is optional). The particular event that we celebrate merely triggers that grateful remembrance, a remembrance of those moments in which we are most deeply aware of limitless belongings. As a reminder and renewal of our ultimate connectedness, every celebration has religious overtones, echoes of mystical communion. It is also the reason why, when we celebrate, we want all those who belong to us in a special way to be present. Repetition also is a part of celebration. Every time we celebrate a birthday, for example, that day is enriched by memory upon memory of all previous ones. But repetition has its danger, especially for the celebration of religious rituals. Because they are so important, we want to give them the perfect form. And before we know it, we are more concerned with form than with content. When form becomes formalized and content is forgotten, ritual turns into ritualism.

I remember a teacher of mine once saying that the purpose of training is not to teach you form, but rather to hold you up when inspiration fails (and opening night is a week away). Working in a performative medium necessitate working under a deadline. At some point the work is presented before an audience, finished or not. One does not have the luxury of waiting for inspiration to strike. Rather we must hunt inspiration ruthlessly as though we were starved and it is all that might give us sustenance.

I have had my work delayed by storms and technical difficulties and all manner of things. Yet the audience arrived faithfully at the opening night expecting a whole and complete work. And we were not afforded the luxury of delaying that night. The moment of creation must be funneled through the training and indeed the training might cause one to work with greater depth and alacrity, but without the inspiration it is all just noise.

That moment of creative union with the universe is a strong and powerful and indeed personal moment. One can attempt to reverse engineer the process, to teach a method, or study a technique but this is not the moment. The moment is inside. It is a process. It is an orientation of the entirety of ones being towards the work. Vision changes, hearing changes, time and space change. An inversion occurs, and for a moment they are contained by you and you are limitless, bringing worlds and universes into being. It is the orgasmic moment of the sexual poetics of consciousness.

And for you it is different. And for them it is different. And for each of us, that moment is wholly unique and highly personal. The world becomes us. And both transform. Attempts may be made at descriptions, but that can only go so deep. Descriptions can only follow the barest outline of the shell. The container. It might be able to touch some part of the form, but not the content of experience. And that is the trick, to stay truly in touch with the source of our creative energy and not lose it in the formalism of training or ritual. To return to the essay I began this post with, “before we know it, we are more concerned with form than with content. When form becomes formalized and content is forgotten, ritual turns into ritualism.”


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