After yesterday’s post on the creative process, I had to share a video I watched this morning. Here’s ecologist Eric Berlow discussing how complexity leads to simplicity, and the difference between “complex” and “complicated.” Thanks, TED Talks!
I think the creative process can be a complex system aimed at producing a simple result. I’ll be talking more about this in relation to music composition. Enjoy your Wednesday!
It’s been a whirlwind of a week since we put up “Boxer” last Monday. Thank you for your continued interest and the downloads we’ve had so far!
The broadest purpose of this blog is explore the relationship between creativity and critical thinking. Sometimes they go together in the creation of art. Their combination is essential to almost any kind of innovation. And if you’re in a creative business, you combine them constantly.
But I think we all create in our own ways, sometimes without even recognizing it. Anyone can learn from their own creative intuition – we all have it in some form. When people make art, they extrapolate from their creative intuition and apply it to a specific craft or skill. Sometimes this is a conscious process, and other times it’s not.
Rather than talk at length about “creativity” in the abstract, I thought it might be helpful to discuss a specific example. So today I’m going to share a piece of music I’ve been toying around with and use it as a springboard for discussing the creative process.
As a disclaimer, I should say that the creative process is a fundamentally personal experience. Being creative involves using your own judgment quite regularly, and a great way to practice that is to start creating right away. Do not let anyone’s views on “creativity,” least of all mine, hinder your own exploration.
Listen to it once or twice before proceeding. (Please excuse the digital instruments and quick mixing by yours truly).
OK, so first things first – the inspiration for the piece came from the initial piano part. That came without any thinking, just some honest tinkering on the keyboard for a few days. I’m a guitarist by training, so piano is a wonderfully unfamiliar experience for me.
As soon as that part came out, I knew I wanted to do something with it. I practice composing by taking little ideas like this piano part and expanding them into rough drafts. Sometimes these rough drafts help me generate scores. But it’s the practice experience that I’m really after.
So once I have a seed idea, I identify two important constraints: my available tools, and my basic vision for what I want to create.
The first part is easy. My basic tools are a computer and Logic Pro 8. I played everything in on a MIDI keyboard, with the exception of some wood block sounds I recorded. This is how I practice, though for serious projects I usually have instrumentalists record the final version.
The “simple creative vision” part can be a real challenge sometimes. I got lucky on this one, though. When I composed this I had been listening to a lot of Philip Glass. I was really entranced by the way he builds simple, repetitive rhythms to increasing, layered complexity. If you haven’t heard him before, give this a quick listen:
Check out what he’s doing with the cellos at 1:56. That’s a triplet figure, not unlike the cello that kicks in at 0:33 in my piece. A patented trick most Philip Glass fans have probably already noticed.
So if you’re struggling for creative inspiration, it can help to find an artist that you really like, and then try to articulate why you like him or her. Take some notes, and let them be varying in depth and breadth. In composing this piece, I jotted down things like:
Repetitive rhythms build to complexity.
Cellos feel like they’re hurrying up/slowing down while still in time
Mellowing effect on mood, but cerebral experience
Contrast of familiar/classic consonant chords with memorable, prolonged dissonances
These are the listening experiences that I want to attempt to recreate when composing my practice piece. Notice that I’m doing two things here, even in practice:
(1) creating based around what I like, which keeps things fun, honest, and worthwhile
(2) creating with some defined goals for the listening (reading, viewing) experience, which can help communicate broader experiences/ideas to an audience
I’ve found that Point 2 can be a bit contested and merits a little explanation. It’s not that I’m trying to deliver a specific experience to every audience member; receiving and interpreting art is up to the individual. Instead, I’m drawing on a body of my own listening experiences to connect with what stimulates my passion for and interest in music.
I want my music to communicate a passion, enjoyment, and interest for both music and life, whenever possible – as part of a larger creative goal. And I’m always trying to improve how that gets communicated, which is where critical thinking can be very helpful.
Now I’ve worked to develop a simple creative vision, with some basic constraints and a set of tools. This is where the critical perspective leaves off and inspiration sets in. I go to work recording as many parts as possible, with variations whenever I can. Sometimes I know a part is exactly what I want, right when I play it. But usually I end up recording a handful and selecting one or two variations.
At that point the critical mind kicks in again – I have to listen to my ideas and make a judgement call on what works and what doesn’t. This is where the initial creative vision becomes VERY important. I can’t always make a judgement call based on a whim, or even preference. If I want the piece to have any sense of unity, I have to strive to fulfill the initial vision.
That doesn’t mean the process is rigid, and I don’t think it stifles creativity. It can actually encourage creativity. For example, when I was recording the wood blocks – the last part of the piece I recorded – I kept getting interrupted by the Chicago Air Show making serious noise overhead. I really wanted to get some recording done, and it’s always hard to find the free time to do it. So I took some mics outside and got the airplane sounds you hear at the end. Sure, they might not make the final cut. But I like to have fun and make the best of any constraints at hand.
And it’s important to have a fluid creative vision. You’ve got to be pragmatic. Sometimes you come up with something so good it transforms the vision entirely – which can be an awesome or troubling experience, depending on your deadline. That’s where you need creative judgment, an elusive thing that’s hard develop and difficult to measure. But practicing is the only way I’ve ever found to develop it. Fortunately, when it comes to the creative arts, even practice can be a lot of fun.
