Creativity
28 06 2007“All creativity can be understood as taking in the world as a problem.”
I know we already talked this one to death, but I’m feeling the need to explore it further. We explored the nature of the statement, but not really the statement itself. We asked what was meant by “creativity”. What qualifies as creativity? What is the connotation of the word “problem” in this context? Why is it phrased as “taking in” rather than “approaching”? Is it even possible to approach these question in a way that produces answers?
I think the only way I’m going to get anywhere with this–and the only way any of us can, really–is to use whatever interpretation that is meaningful for me personally. When I create art, in whatever form it takes, am I doing it because I’m trying to address a condition that is present in my world and important to me? I think Dr. C misinterpreted (only slightly) my intent with that question. I’m not really judging myself and my art by whether or not I’m “taking in” a “problem”. Rather, I’m simply asking myself whether or not that’s what I do, as a condition of my creativity. I’m not overly concerned with conforming to this statement or feeling guilty by not doing so. Just wondering if, somehow, that statement represents a basic intent that I was never fully aware of.
I’m not sure if I can tell you whether the statement is true for me or not. I know my basic motivations for being creative, but do they somehow conform to this underlying principle? First and foremost, I create art because it makes me happy. Because it makes me think. Because I enjoy it. But what do I try to do with it? I think that every artist has the same basic motivations, though secondary motivations may vary. When you create art, you’re doing it to:
- Express emotion
- Affect others
- Reveal yourself
If you feel something strongly, you create. You draw, photograph, write, compose, sing, paint, think.
When you create, you want to inspire observers and show them something new, whether about the world, themselves, or others. If I create something and it makes someone look at the world in a different way–not even a significant, life-changing, “aha!”-moment way–I am satisfied. I want to show everyone something beautiful and inspire thoughts, or even just one tiny thought, that they never would have had otherwise. Even if they forget all about it the next second, it was there. And I think that’s important. Is that a form of “taking in the world as a problem”? I think so. Our OED definition of “problem” used the phrase “throw out”. I’m taking in the world as a problem, interpreting it, channeling it, and then throwing it back out for others to take in. Each resulting thought is a new interpretation of my interpretation, which is, in turn, an interpretation of the one that I’ve taken in, which probably also originated as an interpretation. Does it ever end? Can you trace back thoughts? Ideas? Problems? Inspiration?
Perhaps everything should just be under a Creative Commons license, because nothing is truly the work of one person. Everything I do, think, create, or feel is the accumulation of the thoughts, creations, and feelings of millions of people before me.
Most of all, in my art I show people who I am. And maybe it just so happens that who I am–and who we all are– is a composite of everyone else who ever thought, created, or felt in the entire history of the world. We don’t need to consider what it means to take in the world as a problem. It’s already what we are.
Since I first saw the original statement which started all of this discussion, I was quite wary of it, and honestly I think it’s a fairly dangerous assumption to make.
“Problem,” like “creativity,” is a largely self-interpreted word. What might not at all be a problem for me might be a big problem for someone else. I don’t like Cheerios. Is this a problem? No, because I won’t buy them, but now it’s a problem for General Mills, because they have to make another kind of breakfast cereal to appease the tastebud gods. I have, in effect, forced General Mills to be creative, to manufacture Count Chocula.
But here’s the problem(har, har): if everyone were forced into creativity because they are facing a problem, would the arts be doomed? Therein lies the danger of such a constricting (use of the word “all”) generalization. General Mills has made Count Chocula, a decision which has profoundly impacted my morning meal (sugar intake). If I drew a picture of flowers and gave it to someone I cared about, because I felt like they should be having a good day, is this not profound?
It’s quite possible, I think, to make something beautiful for the sake of making it beautiful, or to be creative for the sake of creativity. Rather, the ability to reveal emotion, affect others, reveal one’s self and inspire thought are not necessarily dependent on a pre-existing circumstance, or problem.
Is art always a response to a problem?
Is there such a thing as creativity for the sake thereof?
Am I just totally not getting it? I should’ve been an English major.
As Isaac Newton said, “We stand on the shoulders of Giants.”
**Note to self: Is every piece of artwork a portrait of the world?
(world defined in this case as non-physical, timeless)
Joe,
All concerns understood and appreciated. And as a student of Milton, I fully believe that creativity is not spurred only by problems, but also by abundance and goodness. That said, if “problem” is interpreted in a creative way (I don’t think you were there the night we did an extended riff on ‘problem’ via the OED), then it becomes something truly inspiring and wonderful, almost a serious game (serio ludere), an earnest playfulness.
Of course there is one big problem that must be acknowledged in our current state, the elephant in the room really: what does it mean to live in a world in which we must die?
And what does “time” mean?
And what is love, and how do we know it, and how can we share it?
I guess I’m throwing many things forward here…. :)