Artist or Creative, a distinction
- We are all creative.
- We are all artists potentially, but clearly not everyone is an artist.
- Artists are no ‘better’ than creatives, but they have a great privilege
- Artists are no worse, but they bear a huge responsibility
- Creatives can get away with just expression, creative energy if you like
- Artists add value with craft and unique expression.
- Artists are not subject to creatives (more on this in weeks to come), but they must render subjects creatively. A “Fresh look, and a fresh listen’ was how Frost put it.
- Creatives and would-be artists ought not to make [inflated] subjects of artists, to quote Oscar Wilde, “Be Yourself, because everyone else is taken’
Thats my attempt at a distinction, what do you reckon?
Gigs that bleed integrity
I just finished working on an intensive week-long project with poet, Sh’maya, called Nabokov’s Present Tense. It was a great sell-out show and a dope collaboration process. You can read the text from our set here.
It reminded me of why I write and perform, and why I choose not to play every gig that gets thrown my way. Sometimes I say I’m busy, which–whilst true, is not always my motivation for declining. Let me explain– actually better still — if you listen to Michael Port’s audio stream at thinkbigrevolution.com, “You Are Like You market” , you’ll understand why.
Nabokov are ebulient and daring promoters with artistic integrity; it’s a shame that they are something of a rarity in the local london arts scene. In my experience most are, to use our vernacular, ‘on a hype ting‘. The down-to-earthness (humanity) of so many gigs, in so many scenes, is sucked out in favour of an unrealistic, unwarranted, don’t-miss-this hype. Nobody is fooled, and the scenes reflects that.
What makes a show is the people who come. If all the people stay at home, they will still be people. If only the artists show up, it will be a rehearsal. The people make the show. Why the human-factor, community aspect is ignored or downplayed in so much local gig marketing is beyond me, surely it’s the collective soul the very show ought to embody?
I haven’t given up hope, I know there are some great promoters out there, and I hope to connect with over the next few months. If your one of them, holler – lets talk… lets grow a show.
Picture by hurting bombz
Valentines
Check out my other blog, a special valentines day swishism features: stop!wait… initiate.something.heart-shaped. Ben Schwartz’s vid below is a funny reminder that it could be worse.
Nobody (haiku)
Nobody
I am nobody
and nobody has a clue
what is going on.
The piece is a new addition from the 2nd edtion of Selected Swishes (which is going to press at the end of the week). I’ve been fascinated by the concept of nobody for about 8 months now. (Funny, given I’ll be 27 in a couple of weeks;)
Seriously though, I’ll be posting more on this topic, but in the meantime Prodigal Jon’s post on the same topic is a good one. Check it out.
Hats off
Same hat, different story. Yesterday I posted a blog inspired by the loss and swift return of my favourite hat. In yet another feat of absent-mindedness I lost it today, again. This time on a Northern line tube. I get of at Clapham Common and almost immediately my ‘might-be’ sense tells me that there just might be something missing among my personal belongings. I rifle through my bag for my hat, nothing; I pat myself down– dagnabit, still nothing.
As the sliding doors of the departing tube beep and collide, I muse that this would, if I had the necessary prop, be the part where I remove my hat and throw it into the dust in frustrated disgust. Instead I just look on in casual slow-motion as my hat escapes. Perhaps it’s the fact that I lose stuff so often that I wasn’t alarmed. I flashed back to those heady days when I would chase down carriages or slap the sides of routemaster buses, all the forgetfulness and adrenalin of Jason Bourne, none of his effectiveness. Then again though, I did catch the tube behind and tracked my hat down to the end of the Northern Line: ‘Have you seen a black acrylic, Dr. Seuss-looking hat, with stitched ruffles?!’ I asked, breathlessly to 3 cleaners, each luminous bib a beacon of hope. I was directed toward a blue carrier bag on the platform containing, another less fortunate, orphaned piece of headgear, and my very own. Hats off to the cleaners.
Hummm…
I like the hummingbird bakery in South Ken. I like the inviting, independent facade. I like the way it is smaller inside than it appears from outside, without being poky. I like their understated logo, and the way it pops on their business cards, I like the subtle acoustic mix of Lu’s ‘Superstar‘ that I’ve never heard before playing in the background. I like the accents of their international crowd (I’m working on my catalan). The hot chocolate is OK, but by now I don’t care. I have been won over by my discovery… I don’t mind being a lone diner (or, sipper/blogger) I’m here waiting for a friend, waiting to tell them about what I discovered.
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Who/what is [verb]swish?
A type of word + a sound, in a noun? a lyricist; a name, a style, a purpose, a privilege
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A lyricist from South London, a collector of swishisms, someone.who.is.still.hoping
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