Showing posts with label Malcolm Gladwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malcolm Gladwell. Show all posts

January 4, 2010

Borderlands

Our culture is about success, ‘Rich & Famous’ our mantra. No matter how badly we screw up, a strong tenet of Western Civilization assures us ‘they’ will suddenly adore us (and regret ignoring our fledgling efforts) once they see we’ve succeeded (ie. we are rich & famous, yes!).

Counter culture rejects all that, celebrating communal values and humble anonymity.  We’re not supposed to hear of counter culture heros until they sell out, ie. get rich, famous, or both.  The counter culture ideal of success is to be wildly productive, ingeniously inventive and ambition free while maintaining a seductive cool.

Bloggers punt indie bands mentioned by Rolling Stone off the ‘it’ list because they are now eligible for celebrity and its incumbent wealth (do the wee bands care?). To get around this, an unknown art-savant can be groomed by the well connected patron saint (think O’Keefe-Stieglitz, Smith-Mapplethorpe, Dylan-Grossman) who swings wide the pearly gates pour l’artiste anonym. It’s a way to keep your street creds while joining Scrooge McDuck in his money bin.

Then there are the outliers revered by the masses for their creative (as well as lucrative) success:
'In this book I'm interested in people who are outliers—in men and women who, for one reason or another, are so accomplished and so extraordinary and so outside of ordinary experience that they are as puzzling to the rest of us as a cold day in August.'
Malcolm Gladwell
Film editor Walter Murch compares the collective nature of creativity in old world art forms and new, from the Sistine Chapel (starring outlier Michelangelo) to modern cinema.
‘Fresco painting was an expensive effort of many people and various interlocking technologies, overseen by the artist, who took responsibility for the final product... Every person who works on a film brings his or her own perspective to bear on the subject.  And if these perspectives are properly orchestrated by the director, the result will be a multi-faceted and yet integrated complexity that will have the greatest chance of catching and sustaining the interest of the audience, which is itself a multi-faceted entity in search of integration.’
Walter Murch, In the Blink of an Eye
Caldwell devotes a book to outliers and our notions of success.
'My wish with Outliers is that it makes us understand how much of a group project success is. When outliers become outliers it is not just because of their own efforts. It's because of the contributions of lots of different people and lots of different circumstances— and that means that we, as a society, have more control about who succeeds—and how many of us succeed—than we think. That's an amazingly hopeful and uplifting idea.'
Malcolm Gladwell
Outliers seems like a book worth exploring. It’s on my list for 2010. In the meantime, I wish you creative sagacity.  Work your fertile borderlands one row at a time, high-fiving the neighbors who ground and surround you. 

Photo credit
James, Scotland England border

December 7, 2009

Imagination dust up

‘You don’t start at the top if you want to find the story. You start in the middle, because it’s the people in the middle who do the actual work in the world.' 
Malcolm Gladwell, What the Dog Saw
A painter friend asks, ‘why paint?’  I answer, ‘because you must - and it brings you comfort.’ Now, Freud and I slipped ‘why pain?’ into the equation first time around. Why indeed.

Peter the Great, my poet friend of large heart, sent me an article about Springsteen, Brubeck and company - the peak parade - receiving honors at the White House. At a reception, Clintons H. and B. toasted their greatness. Bill included a story about hanging a signed song chart for Blue Rondo a la Turk Brubeck had sent him on his music room wall. Peter liked this especially because he’d basked in a Brubeck concert as a younger man. I like it too; imagine the rich and famous pinning the rich and famous’ masterpiece to the wall. Intoxicating stuff.

I asked Colleen what her dream job would be. She combines dance and yoga in her drug-prevention work with at-risk kids. ‘Pretty much what I’m doing right now,’ she said. ‘I love dancing with kids. You never know what they’ll come up with.’

At the aforementioned East Room reception, Springsteen said this about his honor:
‘It's an acknowledgment that you've kind of threaded your way into the culture in a certain way. It's satisfying."
And then there are the people in the middle, like my painter and poet and dancer friends and me, who thread our way into the culture less publicly.

Colleen and I’ve been touring together in Lorain, Ohio, doing residencies with first graders who are learning to read.  I’ve heard John McCutcheon credit his work in schools with preparing him for the concert stage (he figured seventh graders were as good as a bar’s best patrons for honing his act).  Since I’ve put that stage on hold for now, diving into schools full tilt, I’ve discovered a wild truth quite the opposite of McCutcheon’s.  The craft I honed in front of adult audiences prepared me for this, the real story.

You never know what kids will do, but in one way, they don’t surprise you.  They do themselves, really well.  This is a life enhancing drug like no other, with side effects you may be unprepared for.
Imagination dust, seeping into every pore.

Photo credit Hans Lachmann