You can’t write poems about trees when the woods are full of policemen.
"you can't write poems about trees when the woods are full of policemen." | bertolt brecht
— Juan Vidal (@itsjuanlove) December 22, 2015
You can, but the scene is commanding you to examine the deeper, more complex story, and who better to tell it, paint it, sing it then you?
When we were in elementary school, we would open the crayon box and color, outside the lines, often making own illustrations. If the teacher asked, “Who can sing?” every kid would raise their hands, including you.
As adults, let’s remember:
- Making your own art is more powerful than sharing that JPG or GIF meme.
- Writing in your own voice is more powerful than copying-and-pasting a chain post, like one phrased, “Not one of my Facebook friends will copy and paste…”
- Singing your own song will fulfill you more than singing a cover song (even if it won’t make you more money, or get you the most attention).
- Writing a unique tweet about your next show is more interesting than your ReverbNation account auto tweeting a sterile tweet for you.
We have the opportunity–a privilege, a freedom, a choice–to use our own voices.
I bet that’s what your circle wants to hear the most from you, too.
What are you willing to sacrifice for your art? Jennifer Lawrence shared bread with rats.
“That’s when I knew you were serious,” said Jennifer Lawrence’s father.
* * * * * * * *
I listened to Terry Gross’s interview with Jennifer Lawrence yesterday, and the anecdote about rats in her apartment made me cringe, then chuckle. If you’re an artist, musician, actor, etc., you should listen to it. (29 minutes into the interview.)
Gross: “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night…”
Lawerence: “Night was horrible, that’s when[ the rats] come out…My dad still talks about it, he said that’s when he knew I was serious [about acting].”
* * * * * * *
Most artists are going to have a moment like this. (*1)
Hopefully not that bad, but it’s going to center around a choice of how much crap you are willing to handle, for your art.
Sometimes it’s not worth it, sometimes it is. Only the artist can decide.
Idolizing the myth of the starving artist is dangerous and incorrect–and I recognize I’m dancing on the line here–but I think it’s important for artists to ask themselves, “What are you willing to sacrifice, for your art?”
Jennifer Lawrence was willing to live in a rat-infested apartment the size of a closet, even willing to eat around the holes in her bread that the rats had chewed, to get her first start as an actress in New York.
I’m going to be honest with you, I am not willing to do that. Not one bit.
However, I’ve done some ridiculous things over these years for music. I was willing to sleep in my car during the first tours to avoid hotel fees, when Couchsurfing failed me. In 2013, I showcased at a music conference by Ashville, NC, then drove all night to get to my cousin’s wedding reception in time.
So I ask you musicians some hypotheticals:
Are you willing to limit–even give up completely–alcohol and smoking to be able to sing five nights a week to pay the bills? (*2)
Are you willing to get up at 5 AM to get to drive five hours, arrive for a radio interview, then kill time before the gig that evening?
Are you willing to drive to 45 minutes out of your way to avoid the tolls on the Ohio Turnpike, because it’s still cheaper with gas prices less than $2? Are you still going to figure out how to play that gig when gas is almost at $5?
Are you willing to drive through winter weather to get to your gig? (*3)
* * * * * *
You are going to make choices as an artist that aren’t pleasant. Sometimes that means doing types of work the hipsters won’t think is cool, but is still you utilizing and developing your art in a marketable way to pay the bills, yet gives you the freedom to say yes to the cool gigs. Take comfort knowing you aren’t alone.
Also take comfort knowing this helps clear the field. Being the last one standing helps with the odds of reaching success.
Artists must answer the question, “What are you willing to do to sacrifice for your art?” and then ask that same question again a month, a year, five years later.
It’s OK if your answer changes, especially if your circumstances do.
The most important thing is to remember, the answer should also enable you to keep creating. Don’t burn out and give up completely; revise the plan.
Share your bread with the rats if you must, but don’t give them your creative dreams, too, when you say no more.
Footnote Anecdotes:
*1 Unless you are well connected or well-off or a child of a famous person. I don’t say that with snark; it’s just true. Use your connections!
I just got through the chapter of Kimberly Freeman‘s essay in Martin Atkin’s first digital copy of Band:Smart (get your copy here). What she was willing to do, where to live, for music–dedication! (She painted a producer’s house to barter getting one of her records finished!)
*2. A talented, touring musician told me he was losing his voice at gigs. He said this as he was finishing his second six pack of beer. I said, “I had to omit alcohol, almost completely, to sing as much as I do.” He said, “Life’s not worth living doing that! I’m not willing to do that.” I know there’s a lot more to unpack there, but right now I’ll ask you the question again: What are you willing to sacrifice for your art?
*3 The worst commute I’ve made was driving 10 to 11 hours to St Catharine’s to play at Paul Federici’s CD Release Show in 2012. (I should have been a four hour drive.) I’m so glad I made it, but now that I’m a father, I recognize I never should have taken that risk against extreme weather. Don’t do it! Cancel a gig when the weather is that bad to live and play another day.
*4 Hat-tip to my friend AJ Noon who just overcame ridiculous hurdles to confirm his next music gig on Carnival Victory cruises, yet has to be away from his friends and family during the holidays to get it. And I quote the Noon, “the life of a stressed out musician sitting upon a throne of pins & needles.” We miss you, man!
Missed my connection to Miami, but hey what a swell airport Orlando has!
Posted by AJ Noon on Sunday, December 20, 2015
No matter how experienced you are, simple mistakes will need to be fought:
- The common typos for a writer’s book (like those pesky apostrophes)
- A drooping mic stand at a gig.
- A guitar cable failing without notice.
- A painter accidentally smudging the canvas with a dirty hand
- A sleep deprived artist driving recklessly to a venue
- The cell phone or computer’s battery dying when you need it the most
The list goes on and on, but you probably already know your list.
Write it down, tape it to your desk or gig box, and make time to double check the simple mistakes, no matter how experienced you are.
The real music scene is in your backyard; get famous in your neighborhood
For artists, the Internet feels like a highway to reach the entire world, but what if we focus more of our energy on the connections in our neighborhoods, instead?
My friend, songwriter Mike Gentry, decided to get back into the music scene through a direct path: He started attending open mics, saying hello to songwriters, and then writing little reviews, giving everyone who played a kind mention in his social network posts.
Within six months, he’s not only met a large portion of the music scene, he’s instantly remembered by a very populated sea of players! I hear from so many folks, “Oh, I know Mike Gentry! I met him at an open mic! He gave me a shout out on Facebook!”
It’s taken less than a year Mike Gentry to become a bridge between songwriters. He’s not buying follower on Twitter or Spotify spins on Fiverr. He’s shaking songwriters’ hands, listening to their songs, and connecting to our musical neighborhood.
On a larger scale, this is what Dena Woods has done in South Bend. She’s helped connect and revitalize a local music scene, after being inspired by an article that named South Bend a dead city. Rather than spend $1000+ to try to break out at SXSW, she started a local conference focused on her city’s scene, as well as work with smaller venues to get musicians stages to perform.
It’s a great reminder that we often try to “go global” when what we need to do is become “famous in the family.” (HT: Seth Godin.)
Mike Gentry performing at the Acorn
Dena Woods playing at Fiddler’s Hearth
