What I want in heaven is for words to be notes and conversations to be symphonies. Tina Turner
I haven’t updated this blog or this site’s images in a too long a while. Perhaps I can clarify the issue beginning with the title of this essay. A bit of a funky title for a photography blog? Maybe, but let’s see where it goes, and I’ll begin by rephrasing the title’s question: How does an improvisational pianist select her next note? And why that note? The same could apply to the birth and execution of many if not most creative endeavors. In some cases, the next note could be the first note. The musician Sting, who claims to have J.S. Bach as his music teacher, said that if he didn’t realize a surprise within the first eight bars of a composition, he stopped listening. Beethoven accomplished the surprise in the first four notes of his fifth symphony. He knew his next note and why he wanted it. With respect to my creative endeavors, I don’t, and therein lies my problem.
A month before my 79th birthday I purchased a Fender Stratocaster. An American made one at that. A few more clams than an Indonesian model, but I figured that a lack of music knowledge need not be complicated by possible quality issues. Seems a bit late, right? In truth, I wanted to learn about guitar and acquire some proficiency, but not necessarily to become a guitarist. Music had long been an interest and the guitar seemed to be a good entry point, especially given its versatility, which Segovia equated to a small orchestra. The further I’ve gotten into learning the instrument, the more I realise Segovia’s observation as truth, and the more connected I feel to art in general.
My other hobby, photography, was in decline, in the dumps, so to speak, and I needed another creative outlet. I’ve been down the usual path with picture-taking: teenage twin-lens Kodak, 35mm film later, SLR, light and electron microscopy, in my career, and finally the digital world and its accoutrements, books and YouTube. I had no professional aspirations, especially upon shooting two weddings for friends. Publish a book? Nope! My work is not project-based. I simply wanted to be good at photography and art-making! So, why the funk? I still love a great image, and plan to make a few more. However, I don’t travel out as much, for non-geriatric reasons, and the on-line image world has become a saturated blur to the point of BOREDOM. Pretty and impressive pictures? Even some orgasmographs as Brooks Jensen calls them! Yes, and lots or them. But there’s a world of difference between a pretty photograph and one that I would deem as artwork or display-worthy. Besides, they would have to match my wife’s décor, which is not likely! Furthermore, “Likes” and “Next” arrows aren’t the stuff of artistic discernment. And most of the artwork I’ve seen in homes amounts to complimentary color splotches or a reproduction of a Gainsborough landscape, but not photographs. Cynical? Yep! So, it all comes down to “art”, stuff that has some lasting value, even if it is only for the artist’s family.
Back to the music! I dabbled earlier in acoustic guitar and bluegrass banjo for quite a while, even to the level of a few public appearances with the banjo. None of it was creative though, just copying. No music theory, scales, or chord structure! More recently, I stumbled on the PBS tribute to the blues man Buddy Guy and became entranced by the plethora of guitar-isms, the connectivity to other music genres, originality, skill, etc. In the frustration accompanying my present photographic malaise, I bought the Stratocaster. That was more than a year ago, and I’m still trying - daily. Minor pentatonic scale! Major pentatonic scale! Linking scales! Movable scales! Intervals! Triads! Sevenths chords! Chord tones! The list is longer, but I’ll stop by saying that learning and practicing music theory and overcoming octogenarian fingers are a helluva lot more difficult than anything I’ve encountered in photography. Hands down! No contest! End of story! However, the bright side is that my labored practice has led me deeply appreciate many genres of music, from Bach to Julian Lage and many between. No heavy metal though! Seriously, how did Brahms conjure those two piano concertos? What led Beethoven to challenge symphonic tradition with his third symphony? How does composition occur? Counterpoint? And all with twelve Pythagorean tones! Mind-boggling! However, it all comes down to creativity, and creativity stems from ideas. Sting, again, says that the notes come from an idea or a short riff, and he sees structure, be it people, actions, or words. He even alludes to being in a state of grace in which the music flows and writes itself. His next note appears!
OK, let’s sort this out. First, this is not a turn from photography to music; both are creative endeavors, of which there are many. I like both and admire others! My personal concerns are probably more brain-related; my brain, in fact. What is the next note? My progress and even my interest seem to have faltered. Yes, I can frame a good landscape composition per Sam Abel and process it along multiple paths. I can light paint an image. Intentional camera movement too. I can determine the key in which a guitar solo is played and copy the basic melody. But in neither case is that creativity. Therein is my funk! The next note! The step toward artwork. Upon reflection, however, most accomplished musicians began early in life, and perhaps creativity is akin to learning another language or developing perfect pitch: the earlier the better. Conversely, the older the more difficult, which is where I am. Creativity was not an emphasis of my youth. And the plethora of books and YouTube videos that hold the deepest secrets of expression and creativity haven’t seemed to tickle my brain. So perhaps I should simply continue to plug along my present dual path and enjoy the adventure, that of continuing to grow in appreciation of creativity and art. And here I must admit that the Buddy Guys, Eric Claptons, Edward Hoppers, Daniel Barenboims, J.S. Bachs, and many other creative spirits pull me in every day.
I’ll close with this thought: Hobbies are damned important, and I have two, music and photography, neither of which will lead me to stardom. The guitar is one device for entry into the world of music, and the camera is likewise for the visual arts. Beyond the entry point though is a path to be enjoyed, no matter the degree of accomplishment and even if the paths are bumpy for the hobby! The more important issue though is where the hobby leads you in the larger world of art. That could be the next note!
And finally, a diversion from this erudite discussion about personal frustration and art, my absolute favorite photography sage, Sean Tucker, says that the real beauty of photography is to capture and freeze time. With that in mind, we would do well by taking snapshots of our loved ones. As he said, there are two deaths, the cessation of a heartbeat and the eventual loss of a name or a picture of the deceased. Perhaps that is a next note that supersedes all the petty ones.
And on that note, say “Goodnight” Gracie!