Why do we make Art?
Author: Blogger in Residence, Anna Disley-Simpson
I’m always intrigued to know a composer’s answers to this question. These answers can be valuable reminders on those tricky days when I forget why I compose, what I want to achieve, and the directions I want to take.
Pablo Picasso is often quoted as saying that “art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life”. I interpret this in the way that, whilst music is not literally ‘essential’ like food, water and oxygen, what it does do is make life all the more nourishing. It has the power to bring happiness, fulfilment, and purpose to both the composer and the listener. This seems especially important in the current technological climate, as organic creativity is arguably one of the very few things left that isn’t quite literally in danger of being taken over by robots.
In an age of instant gratification, making music requires time, care, and patience. Having heard from fellow composers on this subject, it is clear that the pleasure of creative expression is often far more about the process than the finished product. Composition in particular is so subjective with regards to a notion of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, that it’s almost impossible to fail in the conventional sense. For me it’s encouraging that through the very act of doing it, you, as a creator and craftsperson, are improving yourself and your skills, and getting closer to that seductive *flash* feeling you get when you feel like you’re truly on to something.
That being said, there is a lot of joy to be found in the act of finishing a composition. There is no better feeling than making something that you’re truly proud of and being able to see and hear a culmination of your ideas in a tangible form. Baritone Jamie W. Hall, who amongst many talents composes music and sings with the BBC Singers, replied to my tweet asking for thoughts on why we create art with “singing is ephemeral and I want to say something that lasts beyond the instant.”, highlighting a need to create something that has tangible evidence of existing, comparing writing music to performance which only exists as a moment in time.
An audience reaction, whether that’s in a room with just your teacher or a 5000 strong crowd in the Royal Albert Hall can make all the solitary labour seem worthwhile. For me, it’s this element that encourages me to keep motivated to start the process all over again; I feed off the reactions that others have to my music and endeavour to make pieces that an audience will remember positively for a long time. An audience gives a composer valuable affirmation. There is potential to communicate and stimulate, whether that be through narration, education, provoking thinking and discourse, or simply conveying raw emotion...it’s really quite a powerful thing we are offering.
Why do I myself compose? I feel that creating music is akin to creating an alternative reality; a kind of fantastical landscape that transcends the material form. I feel that life is so fragmented and ephemeral, but creating art brings things back together. It is an attempt to make sense of the world and gain perspective and meaning. Sometimes it can feel gloriously escapist; creating these ‘landscapes’ as a means of accessing another place which is otherwise hidden. I imagine this feeling is shared by authors of fiction with regards to their creative process. I also relish the power music has to transport listeners to this whimsical environment. As Debussy said, “[music is] the imaginary country; that is to say, the one that can’t be found on the map.”
I would invite you to ruminate upon why you, yourself, make art and consider what you love most about it. My own suggestion would be to make a list to look back on during those all-too-familiar instances of staring at a blank page waiting for inspiration to spark.
P.S. Whilst we are contemplating fantastical things (!!!), I’m part of this wonderful gig with the London Contemporary Voices on Saturday 26th October at Union Chapel. There will be guest artists such as ESKA, Anna Phoebe and Natalie McCool and the repertoire is entirely written by women. What more could you ask for?! It’s due to sell out so snap up some tickets here!
Written by Anna Disley-Simpson