Admit It—You Do It Too
I'm not a real photographer if I use a the Camera+ app for iPhone to take my pictures with. I'm not a real publisher if I use WordPress to write DeaneOgden.com. I'm not a real broadcaster if I allow the SCO staff to edit the SCOREcast podcast in GarageBand. I'm not a real author if I used Scrivener to write my book. I'm not a real cook if I rely on Mom's amazing recipes. I'm not a real filmmaker if I use iMovie to create video content. I'm not a real composer if I use Logic and Sibelius to write music.
And yet I'm each one of those things. In fact, a case could be made that I do many of them well.
Tools of Convenience
The tools might make the creation of art easier, but you still need to know what you are doing. Right? Hmmm... I'm not so sure anymore. True, the tools can make the art form more accessible, but they can't teach you the techniques of a master artisan. I use photo-taking tools, but I don't know a single thing about depth of field, the "rule of thirds", or aperture—three things even amateur photographers know the ins and outs of. I use writing tools, but I don't know much about repetitive designation, Chekhov's Gun, or contextual irony—three common literary devices that most talented authors and novelists use.
The tools are great, but they rarely teach us anything about what it is we are doing, because they do the heavy lifting for us. We are simply there to guide the tools at that point. They do the work while we set the pace. It's a matter of convenience. You could take amazing pictures with a tool like Instagram, but does that make you a phenomenal photographer with a keen eye for beauty?
That's a great question. It could. After all, you are the one who saw the beauty in whatever it was you chose to shoot, right? But the composition of the photo, the way the subject is situated within the frame, the coloring, the focus… Those are all "happy accidents" in the face of your inexperience as a photographer. Are those traits the credit of the tool or the operator? Who can say? It might not even matter.
Good vs. Great
You can be an artist, or you can be a great artist. There is a difference. Everyone is an artist now. Everyone is a writer, a photographer, a director, a musician. The world of instantaneous access has convinced each of us that all things are possible artistically. Yet, there are still those who are the Great Ones. The gifted writer. The brilliant lyricist. The eagle-eye photographer. The master thespian. The auteur director. Perhaps it doesn't matter for the professional as much as it does for the amateur—the amateur has something or someone to fix their sights on. Contrast that with the professional who is already there, in a sense, and has nowhere to go with his craft but to improve upon earlier successes.
Or perhaps, even more interesting, it doesn't matter at all... to either. Art is art. It's what makes you happy. "It's the journey, not the destination." People love to use that phrase as a badge of humanitarianism—for not placing one artist above another. It's a cute philosophy… Until you have to make a living, of course. The basic human needs of food and housing tend to trump most politically correct points of view.
Admit It: You Do It Too
Here is what I know: People can whine that the tools make the act of creating far too easy for just anyone to take part in. They can complain that the tools create a level playing field that includes a lot of amateur artists that professionals are now forced to compete against. These arguments might be true.
But we—the self-proclaimed "professional artists"— are also guilty. We are guilty with our Hipstamatic prints of that trip to Yosemite, our website blog posts, our "secret" family recipes (which dear ol' Ma most likely got from dear ol' Grandma!), and our iMovies of little Johnny.
We are just as guilty as everyone else, but we minimize our offenses by hiding behind the artisan tools that exist outside our own areas of creative focus. We say, "Ah… It's just for fun!", yet we criticize those who would use a tool of convenience to distill our beloved art form down to their creative yet consumer-level understanding... "just for fun".
The question remains whether we will embrace that realization, or continue to rail against it.
What Do You Say?
How does this hit you personally and professionally? This is a conversation we are having… a two-way street. I’d love to hear your ideas on how this folds into what you are dealing with as a Creative Artist. Please leave a comment in the boxes below any post. Names are optional, but I’m interested in having a meaningful discussion with you, so consider leaving your name if that sounds interesting.
