The Difficult Artist

I'm pretty good at ruining friendships, and a lot of other people who indulge in creative activities (like, say, writing multi-paragraph analytical essays on artists and social dysfunctionality) are pretty good at that too. So I wondered why artists and other performers (e.g, Charlie Sheen) are such fuck-ups when it comes to their interpersonal relationships? This might make for a dubious premise; perhaps creative sorts are no more prone to meltdowns or wildly erratic behavior than any other groups of people you could invent. But since "the difficult artist" label seems to have become a generally-accepted cliché, and since I've been in a meltdown mode of my own for the past couple of months--and yet at this stage still luckily find myself lucid enough to express myself in writing--I thought I'd take the opportunity to gather my thoughts.

A lot of things go into making an artist, but two personality characteristics that are essential and most relevant to my argument are vanity and delusion. You will find these traits in most artists, both the successful and un-successful ones. Vanity and delusion are generally regarded negatively, but in fact both are essential for the artist, as these bolster an artist's spirit and self-confidence, without which one cannot create.

Vanity is essentially self-love, and since art reflects oneself and is an extension of oneself, vanity can also be thought of as pride in one's creative output. This is what compels an artist to create in the first place; if you hated your work, your output--effectively yourself, then why would you ever put in the time to create new things?

Delusion gives the artist the strength to labor through the tough times that most artists must go through (and many never emerge from). For many people, religion is that life-affirming delusion, an irrational belief in a heavenly reward to compensate for the pain of life. For the artist, delusion offers strength through the conviction that he or she is talented, a genius, a creator of things that will emotionally transform and better all others who bear witness to them.

Life inside the artist's head is often surprisingly cheerful; illusions are pleasant things. Where problems occur is when reality rudely collides with the delusion. For example, one might create 20 amazing paintings for an upcoming art opening under the delusional conviction that the opening will be a huge success, but when the doors open only two or three people arrive, and they came for the beer. Perhaps the delusion is that several of one's photographs hanging prominently on a wall in a popular café will sell, but no buyers materialize, and all the joy spent under that happy illusion--mounting those images and preparing the labels--is washed away by this unhappy fact.

But what's worse is that most artists, myself included, are not particularly or even slightly successful by any compelling measurement. This is what creates the bipolar mania of the artist; laboring happily and passionately (if exhaustingly and sometimes worriedly) on a project, followed by the deep dip that occurs when the delusion gives way to the rude awakening: nobody is interested. The impact of reality on delusion then roughly demolishes the vanity, the depression sets in, and the low ebb of the manic cycle is reached.

For many artists, even success fails to deliver real happiness, because the artist is always failing to measure up to a delusional yardstick that never corresponds to the metrics used by others.

And if that describes the artist's relation to his or her art, why would it be any different with his or her interpersonal relations? The artist lives in a strange world that oscillates between a keen ability to see things as they really are vs. a world that is twisted to suit the artist's particular vision. It follows that artists sometimes see the people around them more accurately than those people see themselves (this has its own drawbacks). However, they also sometimes err severely. In a sense, the artist, in viewing a person, captures the reality of the individual in order to render that thing in a recognizeable fashion; but the artist also creates a personal impressionistic portrait of that individual which says more about the artist than the person rendered in his or her mind.

When the delusional, false image of the person collides with reality, there is then a tempestuous explosion, like Mr. Sheen's towards "Two and a Half Men" executive producer Chuck Lorre (I know this is perhaps a funny example, but these are real guys and they're in the news and they make my point). Sheen's expectations were based once-again on unreasonable yardsticks. There is a meltdown, a blow-up that serves to rupture the relationship perhaps forever, and then the stunned reaction of us onlookers asking, "What happened?"

A footnote: artists are also often associated with drug addiction and alcoholism, which makes sense since drugs and alcohol provide a distance from self which affords a useful perspective on what one is creating. Artists are also prone to working manically on their projects at the cost of sleep. All these aspects also serve to make the artist vulnerable to interpersonal meltdowns.

So, I think you will, unfortunately have to get used to the "difficult artist," and the difficult artist will have to get used to losing friends. But have I actually only described the nature of all of us?

Rotten People

There are two classes of rotten people. One class see themselves always as undeserving victims; another class see themselves always as deserving winners.

I'm in both classes, because I'm depressed and delusional. ;-D

All Songwriters Fall Into One of These Three Classes

1) Hacks
2) Craftsmen/Craftswomen
3) Artists

(artists further subdivided as:)

a. artists with craftsmen/craftswomen ability
b. artists without craftsmen/craftswomen ability

The hacks aspire to be craftsmen/craftswomen, but fail to understand and replicate the emotional connection between song and a typical listener.

The craftsmen/craftswomen understand how to create an emotional connection between song and listener, but lack the special madness that transforms music from passable to great.

The artists possess that special madness lacking in the craftsmen/craftswomen.

The artists with craftsmen/women ability are the best songwriters, as they exhibit the lunacy that makes a song unique and memorable without losing their ability to communicate and connect with the average listener. They are both visionaries and communicators.

The artists who lack the communication ability are the ones lost in outer space (although they may find an admiring niche audience whose psychologies coincidentally overlap with those artists' psychologies).

Slow Change, Sudden Change, Art, Passion, Vocation

There is a very good quote about John James Audubon by his granddaughter Maria:

"Waiting times are long, longest to those who do not understand the silent, inner growth which goes on and on, yet makes no outward sign for months and even years, as in the case of Audubon."

Audubon trudged into his 30s doing stuff he wasn't all that interested in (mismanaging a few businesses, which landed him in jail for debt [he had a wife and two kids on the outside at the time--hardcore]). But in the back of his mind an idea was forming, which ultimately manifested itself in an ambition to capture in vibrant colors, fluid lines, and at life-size the likenesses of all the birds in the United States. When he announced his intention to realize this he must have seemed to others suddenly mad, but in fact the idea had long been in development. And fortunately for Audubon, not to mention all who enjoy his wonderful art, it all worked out.

His story reminds me of evolutionary theory, where you have gradualism (the slow change of organisms over time), and punctuated equilibrium (wherein we see a rapid rate of morphological change over a short period of time). Punctuated equilibrium is often associated with cataclysms--a meteor hits the earth, kills the dinosaurs, and suddenly a whole bunch of niches (think of them as job positions) open up, which are rapidly filled by other critters (giant birds, giant sloths, giant mammoths, other giants) that rise to the occasion.

So for years Audubon was a gradualist, and as such his mind was slowly evolving towards his goal. But after spending time in jail I suspect he entered his period of punctuated equilibrium (i.e., "I've got to make some changes fast"). Gradualistic thinking had prepared him to seize the opportunity that punctuated equilibrium thrust upon him.

One Audubon biography I read stated (and I have to paraphrase, since the book is not accessible to me in my motel room ;-D) that Audubon was not certain what he would do after his release from jail--but the one thing he knew was that he was through with business. As he returned penniless to a wife and two children, everything we know and love Audubon for today lay ahead of the then-34-year-old man.

All DJs Are 80s Teen Sex Comedy Characters

All DJs can be divided into four basic categories. These categories mirror the major players in American 1980s teen sex comedies.

(Note: female DJs are in the extreme minority in the DJ world; similarly, female characters in 80s teen sex comedies were usually ciphers. So, just as 80s teen sex comedies did, we focus on the guys.)

1) Jock DJs

In 80s teen sex comedies, the jocks rule the roost. They have ascended to this rank due to a fortunate mix of genes and testosterone. In these movies, they are also the least-interesting characters, due to a complete lack of taste, intellect, and individuality.

In the DJ world, these are the folks who spin the Rihanna remix followed by the latest Black Eyed Peas tune followed by Katy Perry. Their extroverted nature enables them to confidently hustle their skills, and clubs that are run by similarly-minded people hire them to entertain their patrons. These DJs make a good day-to-day living. Nobody who cares about music respects them, but it is impossible for these hyper-extroverts to notice or to care.


2) Nerd DJs

In 80s teen sex comedies, the nerds pursue sex under the misguided notion that women will be impressed by their extensive knowledge of computer languages and comic books. The women are not (except for that quirky female character who sees and appreciates the nerd for who he is, but is fated to be the perpetual "girl friend" instead of "girlfriend" as said nerd misdirects his energies toward bedding the head cheerleader).

In the DJ world, these are the DJs who focus on underappreciated genres--IDM in the 90s and early 2000s; dubstep today. They express frustration over their genre's lack of commercial acceptance (despite the fact that singles from that genre regularly appear on the UK dance charts). They emphasize how real their scene is.


3) Preppy DJs

In 80s teen sex comedies, preppies are generally well-adjusted, fashionable smart-alecs with all the right moves. Often, they are also enviously clever assholes. Like jocks, they are conformists, but they substitute intellect for the former's testosterone-fueled aggression.

The vast majority of DJs on DJ Magazine's Top 100 list are preppy DJs. They know what is in fashion, what is "right" in respectable dance music circles, and they always do the right thing to promote themselves. Yet their robotic nature (demonstrated by their perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect photo-shoots, and perfectly large bank accounts) can be alienating. Jock DJs beware: a preppy DJ is most likely to fuck your girlfriend.


4) Slob DJs

In 80s teen sex comedies, the slobs pick their noses sans embarrassment and shrug when they pass gas. Their redeeming feature is their interest in partying at any cost, and their willingness to sacrifice themselves, their bodies, and their reputations selflessly in the pursuit of a good time. They are always in the moment, yet never "all there."

Hailing from the Fatboy Slim school of thought, the slob DJs spin whatever they want whenever they want, so long as the music generates some sort of a buzz. Why not combine 80s rap with Viking metal? This ADHD attitude can result in a jarring listening experience for the audience. The slob DJ is most likely to train-wreck, but so what?--that's just the nature of the beast. Note: slob DJs are the best DJs.

The Blueprint of This Observation Can Be Applied to Many Things in Life

A fan of 1977 Genesis might dislike the music of 1977 Wire, whose fans in turn might dislike 1977 ABBA; these determinations of dislike based on tangibles (such as a comparison of complexity of melody and the dexterity demonstrated in the playing of the instruments; or, in the lyrics, the proportion of flighty imagination to the level of confessional nakedness on display, further pitted against the presence [or lack thereof] of socio-political observations; or the rawness of one group's sound versus the polished gloss of another's), all of which blind each band’s committed followers to the one extraordinary quality that these artists had in common: their excellence.