Where’s the Quality? A Creative Conundrum
Published by Andrew Leigh July 4th, 2007 in Creativity, Personal Voice, Barriers and Blocks, Musings & Rants.What do the following have in common?
- The short story competition entrant whose story is expensively bound and beautifully printed on the finest paper
- The budding DJ who has spent 10 grand on kit he has no idea how to use
- The con man dressed impeccably in a Saville Row suit in order to gain the confidence of the rich widow
Well, they are all artists in one form or another - but more importantly, they are all trying to gain advantage by the quality of their kit. Is that cruel? Maybe. Is it wrong? Not necessarily.
Writing last week about my time judging the short story competitions reminded me of another strange phenomenon - the inverse relationship between an expensively produced script and the quality of the writing. It became obvious pretty quickly that while these stories were rarely very bad, they were also equally rarely very good.
There was definitely some con work going on, though I was never sure whether it was aimed at the writer or the reader. Perhaps it was both. I think the clue is in that three letter word ‘con’, a contraction of ‘confidence - perhaps reflecting the writers’ lack of confidence in their writing standing up for itself.
Like most areas of life, however, it’s rarely as simple as that.
Great work ‘undersold’
I’ve also seen a lack of confidence show itself in the opposite direction, in which case the artist may find it difficult to justify finishing their work to a professional standard - even though the work itself fully deserves it. This is something my wife has had to combat in the past.
And whilst going over the top may well act as a signal that there’s some compensation going on, the truth is that in most spheres if you want to be considered professional - or at least taken seriously - you do need to conform to professional standards of production. You need to show your own confidence in the value of your work for others to value it.
The power of ‘quality’
So are people really swayed by peripheral appearances? You bet. You only have to see the difference a well chosen frame makes to a painting to see that. And like it or not some artistic ideas work at their best with serious money spent on their production.
Of course, top quality materials can enhance work that perhaps isn’t top quality in its own right. There are plenty of examples of that in every sphere of creativity (I’d love to hear your examples) - which brings us inevitably to Damien Hirst’s diamond encrusted platinum casting of a human skull. There’s been a lot of negative response to this piece: there are skulls everywhere already, and so the symbol is overused and lacking power as an artistic statement: it’s empty headed, like the society that created it, etc.
But there can clearly be times when the excessive quality of the materials and workmanship are intrinsic to the meaning of the piece. I think Damien Hirst’s Skull, For The Love Of God, is the best example of this I’ve ever seen. If I had a spare 50 million quid (after buying my favourite football club, Sheffield Wednesday, of course) I’d definitely be in for it.
What then can we learn from this quality conundrum? Well, perhaps that a little self understanding and self consciousness about our own approach to questions of ‘quality’ could be a good thing. Are we underselling our talents by holding back on the quality of presentation? Will our work and ideas be better received by investing more in the materials? Or are we focussing too much on the tools we need (the thousand pound computer that’s only used for word processing, for instance), at the expense of focus on the actual work?
It’s worth pondering.
And what about myself? Well, I drafted this in pencil on the back of waste A4 paper and then redrafted onto an oldish but serviceable computer. If you look carefully you can see the halo.
On the other hand, having established my weakness for shiny things, I am seriously pining for a beautiful and expensive steel-bodied resonator guitar, which I’m certain would transform me into a master of the blues. And Damien, if you happen to read this, the diamonds are optional.
See also:
I’m a MASSIVE believer in top quality equipment (wrongly or rightly) if you want to improve yourself at anything ‘physical’ (As for writing etc, if you’re more ‘comfy’ with a slate and chalk, use it. If you spend two hours wondering how to turn on your state of the art w/p and then worry if the work you’re doing is going to get lost in the ether, surely, that must be a ‘brain drain’????)
What I mean by that is, for me, when I played tennis, and realised that I loved the game, I went straight out and bought a £390 raquet (It was reduced in the sales to £200…….a bargain!). When I say “went straight out”, I mean I actually saved/worked overtime etc for a couple of months, so please don’t think that I’m a millionaire, or anything close!
What did this achieve for me? I knew (once again, wrongly or rightly) that the equipment could NEVER be the cause of a missed pass down the line or a poorly executed lob or drop shot. It HAD to be my own failings, and that was what I had to work on to become a better player. It completely took away the feeling of ‘is it me or the raquet’ and left me KNOWING for sure that to win the set I was losing, I had to ‘put more in’. Sometimes I won, sometimes I lost, but at the end of EVERY game I felt that I was playing better than I was at the start. To me, that left me with the feeling of success - win or lose.
Now I play golf (and have done for about 3 or 4 years), and yes, I have a nice set of industry standard clubs. I am rubbish. I have played well on 2 days out of the thousand. But that’s golf for you!