I had two encounters with artists lately than have granted me permission to move ahead in new ways.
Joanne Russo, art basket maker extraordinaire, met me at Burdick's in Walpole, MA for a cup of their famous hot chocolate. Joanne is one of my longtime art heroes. I look to her work and success as good examples of what I could do and be, and cheer her every step of the way. She is also down-to-earth, warm and funny, and generously offered to give me some insight on how to do the upcoming ACC-Baltimore show I'm doing in February 2006.
She shared with me her latest venture, of leaving her already acclaimed basket work to venture into new territory. She's still making baskets, but they are very, very different than the work she's become known for. She's taken a sabbatical to develop an entire new body of work for a one-person show at Thirteen Moons Gallery in Santa Fe, NM.
I asked her if it were scary to take such a leap, and she said YES. But it was exciting, too. "I knew it was time to do something different," she said. She's done the exploring, thought about new formats and even new media, but finally found a way to stretch what she does and take it to the next step.
I found this comforting, that as artist we never simply hit a level we plateau at. If we are really good, we constantly find new ways to challenge ourselves, to take risks with our work--because that's how we rekindle the passion.
The second "meeting" was done with the miracle of modern technology.
Years ago, I watched an inspirational program on Ben Zander, director of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra in Boston, MA. It's called "Living on One Buttock", his phrase for being so carried away by the power of music that one is shifted off-center, onto "one buttock". He's a talented, exuberant conductor who elicits inspired performances from musicians and singers, young and old alike, by connecting them to their passion for the music. He and his wife, Rosamund Stone Zander, have written a book called "The Art of Possibility", which I've just ordered.
We were able to Tivo this episode a few weeks ago. Its power has not dimmed with time. The opening five minutes are almost guaranteed to move you to tears.
Mr. Zanders addresses an audience of young students, exhorting them to give their very best to their performance, to sing/play with a whole heart. A young woman tells him it's hard to do her best when people tell her she is too young to contribute anything of import to the established world of opera singing.
He tells her that it's hard to sing when we hear those voices, but that the negative voices are boring. They ultimately can only say one thing: no. no. no.
But when we bring passion to what we do, OUR voices are infinitely interesting. He breaks into song at this point, moving his whole body to the rhythm. Then he says gently to her, "And you, you bravely show up in your bright red dress and a flower in your hair, despite all those "no" voices, to come sing for us today. That is touching, that is what moves people deeply. Would you like to for us sing now?" She says yes, and sings. And there isn't a dry eye in the house.
I cannot watch this segment, or even write about it (and I'm not doing a very good job of describing how powerful this scene is) without being moved to tears myself.
Mr. Zander reminds us that it isn't about being "the best" at what we do--it is about contribution. It is about bringing our work, OUR very best work, into the world. Once we let go of, "Am I good enough?" or "Am I the best" and "Am I better than HER/HIM??", we can simply give our all.
And that is the power in what we do.
Yesterday, instead of trying to come up with "more of the same but with different motifs", I simply sat and jotted down "new ideas". I let go of what I thought was expected of me, and simply played with thoughts.
I was hoping to come up with two or three. I came up with forty. Yes, they all involve polymer artifacts and fabric, or most of them. But once I was untied from the idea of "what's safe, what do I already know I can do?" I was able to develop some marvelous new ways of using them.
Amazingly, I notice this list, with its tiny detailed drawings and notes, also looks like a mini-example of an exhibition proposal. Hmmmmm.....
Thank you, Joanne Russo and Ben Zander.
