My wife and I were talking one night and I'm struggling to recall who exactly prompted this, but it was an actor, and not a very good one. And one of us asked, "Do artists ever really get better?"
I could write thousands of words, but I've sketched out some thoughts here. (An explanation about the drawings is at the end.)
Do artists get better?
Now, I'm not talking about an incremental refinement in craft that we expect ... but fundamentally better. Mozart. Childhood prodigy. Beethoven. Ditto. Samuel Barber wrote his famous adagio fairly early in his career.
In the realm of film, we thought about the iconic stars and in our memory they were always great.
I came up with a partial exception in Frank Zappa. I used to have a lot of his discs, from the 60s on. In the 60s, he was a conceptual weirdo, but not a great guitar player. By the mid 70s though, something had changed. He put out a three-disc set of guitar solos and let's just say, somebody had been practicing. A lot. In the mid 80s, Zappa released Guitar, a two-disc set, and his chops, both as a composer and an instrumentalist, had taken another jump.
But Zappa feels like the exception that proves the rule. And even as an exception, it's limited, because there was still something fundamentally Zappa about his work at the start. In his case, the skill level simply increased dramatically.
For actors, I can't help but think of Cary Grant. For one thing, he worked for so long and he worked so much from the 30s through the 60s. Comedies, romance, suspense. He was very much a professional. The common thing is to dismiss Cary Grant as always playing Cary Grant.
And yet there is something more to his work than that. Grant, who portrayed the suave lady's man, was by all accounts, dedicated and smart. And not afraid of doing some slapstick that made him look silly. (I love the Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer.) There's a story about the train station scene in North by Northwest when he stops in the middle of a take and asks about an extra carrying a red suitcase in the background. He knew that the red case would distract the eye. I remember that lesson every time I photoshop out some incidental, and distracting (often red), object from a photo.
Who else comes to mind? Jean Reno. Toshiro Mifune. Helen Mirren. Clint Eastwood. Johnny Depp. A new fav is Yves Attal (Anthony Zimmer). All of them seem to be playing themselves in one way or another. Reno and Mifune (France, Japan) are famous for playing tough guys, but they bring something very human and dignified to the scene each time out ... even the fairly slight films. And Reno has got considerable talent for playing comedy with a straight face.
Aficionados talk of the wonders of actors losing themselves in the role. But I wonder if those actors who seem to iconically play themselves don't have more to teach us. They certainly seem to hold our affections better. Perhaps their careers are a process of becoming more of who they are. Or at least, more of who we would like to project ourselves onto.
Grant was quoted: "I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be and I finally became that person. Or he became me. Or we met at some point." There's a kind of art in that life, and humor in Grant's telling of it.
Zappa though, still inspires. He really did become that much better through work.
And despite being such a prodigy, McCartney inspires as well because he also worked very hard. The best book I read last year was Here, There and Everywhere by Beatles recording engineer Geoff Emerick. He recalls the Sgt. Pepper's sessions ... late at night and the others had gone home. McCartney remained, recording and rerecording the bass line for "With a Little Help From My Friends" until is was perfect.
I don't know that artists fundamentally change. But work still does matter.
I'm an okay sketcher, but not good enough to make a career of it. But drawing has been something I've done to greater (in the past) and lesser (recently) degrees for years. I pulled out some old sketchbooks and my drawings, whenever they were done, look like they came from me. From top to bottom: Dave Janoski from the Times Leader in 1989, one of the smartest men I ever met; Gail Schecter, a girl who visited her mom in the office from 1991; an unknown person from the Station bar in Wilkes-Barre from 1996; a fast sketch of my wife in 2011. I think that if my drawing had been more regular, it would certainly have become more refined, but they would still be recognizably mine.
I think writing is something different altogether. Drawing for me has been an exercise in seeing, Writing is an exercise in interpreting and understanding. I couldn't have written this in 1989. I didn't have the perspective. Progress is possible after all. Hope lives. Hooray.
17 Jan. 2012: PS: I'd love to be wrong, to have examples of artists who did get better. If you think of any, leave a comment.
I could write thousands of words, but I've sketched out some thoughts here. (An explanation about the drawings is at the end.)
*****
Do artists get better?
Now, I'm not talking about an incremental refinement in craft that we expect ... but fundamentally better. Mozart. Childhood prodigy. Beethoven. Ditto. Samuel Barber wrote his famous adagio fairly early in his career.In the realm of film, we thought about the iconic stars and in our memory they were always great.
Rock and Roll ... Paul McCartney comes to mind as the jaw-dropping prodigy from the start. Prince too.
Visual arts gave us more trouble as we, as just ordinary people, can't recall any artist's history in any detail. But there definitely seemed to be a trend. The artists that we recalled seemed to be something extraordinary right out of the gate.
Visual arts gave us more trouble as we, as just ordinary people, can't recall any artist's history in any detail. But there definitely seemed to be a trend. The artists that we recalled seemed to be something extraordinary right out of the gate.
I came up with a partial exception in Frank Zappa. I used to have a lot of his discs, from the 60s on. In the 60s, he was a conceptual weirdo, but not a great guitar player. By the mid 70s though, something had changed. He put out a three-disc set of guitar solos and let's just say, somebody had been practicing. A lot. In the mid 80s, Zappa released Guitar, a two-disc set, and his chops, both as a composer and an instrumentalist, had taken another jump.
But Zappa feels like the exception that proves the rule. And even as an exception, it's limited, because there was still something fundamentally Zappa about his work at the start. In his case, the skill level simply increased dramatically.For actors, I can't help but think of Cary Grant. For one thing, he worked for so long and he worked so much from the 30s through the 60s. Comedies, romance, suspense. He was very much a professional. The common thing is to dismiss Cary Grant as always playing Cary Grant.
And yet there is something more to his work than that. Grant, who portrayed the suave lady's man, was by all accounts, dedicated and smart. And not afraid of doing some slapstick that made him look silly. (I love the Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer.) There's a story about the train station scene in North by Northwest when he stops in the middle of a take and asks about an extra carrying a red suitcase in the background. He knew that the red case would distract the eye. I remember that lesson every time I photoshop out some incidental, and distracting (often red), object from a photo.
Who else comes to mind? Jean Reno. Toshiro Mifune. Helen Mirren. Clint Eastwood. Johnny Depp. A new fav is Yves Attal (Anthony Zimmer). All of them seem to be playing themselves in one way or another. Reno and Mifune (France, Japan) are famous for playing tough guys, but they bring something very human and dignified to the scene each time out ... even the fairly slight films. And Reno has got considerable talent for playing comedy with a straight face.
Aficionados talk of the wonders of actors losing themselves in the role. But I wonder if those actors who seem to iconically play themselves don't have more to teach us. They certainly seem to hold our affections better. Perhaps their careers are a process of becoming more of who they are. Or at least, more of who we would like to project ourselves onto.
Grant was quoted: "I pretended to be somebody I wanted to be and I finally became that person. Or he became me. Or we met at some point." There's a kind of art in that life, and humor in Grant's telling of it.
*****
Zappa though, still inspires. He really did become that much better through work.
And despite being such a prodigy, McCartney inspires as well because he also worked very hard. The best book I read last year was Here, There and Everywhere by Beatles recording engineer Geoff Emerick. He recalls the Sgt. Pepper's sessions ... late at night and the others had gone home. McCartney remained, recording and rerecording the bass line for "With a Little Help From My Friends" until is was perfect.
I don't know that artists fundamentally change. But work still does matter.
*****
I'm an okay sketcher, but not good enough to make a career of it. But drawing has been something I've done to greater (in the past) and lesser (recently) degrees for years. I pulled out some old sketchbooks and my drawings, whenever they were done, look like they came from me. From top to bottom: Dave Janoski from the Times Leader in 1989, one of the smartest men I ever met; Gail Schecter, a girl who visited her mom in the office from 1991; an unknown person from the Station bar in Wilkes-Barre from 1996; a fast sketch of my wife in 2011. I think that if my drawing had been more regular, it would certainly have become more refined, but they would still be recognizably mine.
I think writing is something different altogether. Drawing for me has been an exercise in seeing, Writing is an exercise in interpreting and understanding. I couldn't have written this in 1989. I didn't have the perspective. Progress is possible after all. Hope lives. Hooray.
17 Jan. 2012: PS: I'd love to be wrong, to have examples of artists who did get better. If you think of any, leave a comment.
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