Respecting the Artist’s Process

I grew up with the false understanding that the quality of someone’s creative output justified their creative practice. This led to critiquing a person’s art before deciding whether to respect them as an artist. Odious, in hindsight, isn’t it?

Maintaining this outlook required some contortions. When I was a teenager, for example, in a performing music group, we institutionalized some lies, adjusting the reality to fit the assumption. If we messed up a piece of music, there’d be mean-spirited bickering in rehearsal. “No, actually, you came in flat.” But after a public concert, the lie took over. No, of course we didn’t desecrate that five-voice a capella Monteverdi piece. (We did.) That wouldn’t have been possible because our consort was good, and therefore gave good-to-excellent quality concerts. QED. The product must have been good. That’s what justified the effort. I continued under the yoke of that lie into adulthood.

Make it be true.
Image by რაზმიკ ბადალიანი from Pixabay

The unexamined life

This led to unexamined responses out in the world when I was a young adult. In a gallery, for example, I mistakenly believed my role was to judge, rather than to open up to the experience of being with someone’s art. Over conversation in a restaurant, when I heard a musician talk about their work in the studio, I wondered to myself what it sounded like. Until I knew that, their words – their evident excitement – were just cheerful noise. The way they used their time had value – according to the old, internalized lie – only if I admired or appreciated the results.

It hurts just to write these words. I think of all that I missed by staying inside that lane. All those opportunities for giving and receiving in community that I bypassed.

I do believe there is a place for aesthetic judgment. We all possess particular likes and dislikes, and have refined our tastes as to various art forms. What I’m addressing here is not about taste or judgment. It’s fundamentally about respect.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Why retreat from judging first and experiencing later? Why adopt a respectful stance toward unknown work from an unknown creator? Well, on the face of it, because it’s good sense. Beyond that, here are some more reasons.

Acclaim is fickle. Also individual. Does an accomplished artist with few fans make less important work than one with millions of followers? Perhaps – that hinges on how we define “important.” But does that artist’s use of their time matter to them less? Is that artist’s use of their time worthy of respect?

We each have individual agency. Fundamentally, we each set our own ground rules, and intentions, and standards. If a person decides to devote their creative routines to doing work that enriches their life, that’s enough. I continue to see this more clearly. It’s an ongoing discovery process.

Artists are geniuses. Andrew Simonet takes this position and I agree. Artists surround us, in all walks of life, all over the world. Artists invent, innovate, reconfigure, reframe, confront, question, examine, connect, celebrate, explore, stretch, imagine, and love. Riches of every kind, made by these artists, await our attention. The creative arts are a bottomless resource for us all. Especially during times like ours of tumult and uncertainty, a rich inner life can heal, ground, and center. Who among us can’t benefit from that?

This bird goes here, that bird goes there, that bird, nah, no home for it here.
Photo credit: д§mд on Visualhunt.com

These days, I’m respecting process. That means taking in the artist’s work on its terms, for what it is now. Mindfully appreciating the moment, rather than slotting the experience into pigeonholes based on prior knowledge, prejudices, or fashion. Is this an impossibly lofty goal? No doubt. But worthwhile nonetheless as a guide. I enjoy encounters with creative work now, far more than when I was under the tight constraints of the judge-first-experience-later regime of my youth.

What’s next

For myself, process over product means permitting myself the time to revisit my incomplete projects in various media, give them a fresh look or listen, and consider what if anything to do with them next. If I don’t give them further attention, am I rejecting them as inadequate? Not necessarily. They all formed me as an artist and are part of my continuing education. They matter because they inhabit the continuum of my creative life. It all counts.

Process over product means deciding to stop querying literary agents with my first novel, no matter how dearly I love it, because its odds of traditionally published success are infinitesimal. That manuscript taught me so much. So. Much. Perhaps it will live as a print-on-demand novel for a handful of readers. I’m not rejecting it; I’m making a decision to honor the process that has taken it this far, over the years.

Process over product means returning to the music software I half-forgot how to use during years when I was otherwise engaged. Familiarity with my tools is essential so I can re-immerse in writing and arranging music. (Good news: there are more and better how-to videos out there these days. And, who knows, I may get to know other fellow aficionados along the way.)

Process over product means cherishing the relationships I share with artists active in many media, and cultivating new ones. A rich conversation with a printmaker, or composer, or performer, or photographer can stir up ideas and challenge my certitudes in multiple ways, not to mention the welcome possibility of deeper friendship and stronger community.

How do you encounter new work by creative artists? Can you savor your process? Can you savor theirs?

What you do matters. Enjoy the work.

~Anne