WHO’S WHO?

(for Ellie)

(Before I get started on today's entry, please remember to continue on down to the July 1 interview with Jill Badonsky, if you have not already read it. Jill has some truly interesting observations, and lots of useful information about where she herself is coming from in the work she does... Worth a read!)

So my wife Ellie raised an interesting question yesterday morning. She had awoken from a dream which she did not describe in detail, but which concerned the relationship between the Ellie she has chosen, in the course of her adult life, to become, and the “Ellen” she was called by her parents as a child. She was wondering how this relationship might be playing out in her studio, now that she faces the challenge of making paintings—a relatively new experience for her, since she has devoted her professional life, successively, to selling art works, advising corporate and private collectors, and advising artists. She came to the studio, then, just a couple of years ago, with a ton of knowledge of contemporary art and a finely honed eye, but with no actual, technical practice.

Ellie is much aware of that inner Ellen, and realizes that both are at work with her in the studio. Coming out of her dream yesterday, she was once again trying to sort out the relationship between the two. It was in this context—and on being asked for my opinion!—that I offered my own admittedly amateur “analysis.” I tend to see “Ellen” as the little child (don’t we all have one?) who felt lost and abandoned, very early in life by divorcing parents, and who very successfully devised the means she needed then to assure her safety: threatened by the chaos she observed around her, her young mind perceived the imperative to control her world and developed the strategies she needed to achieve that end. “Ellie” marched in much later, into her adult life, as a strong and independent woman, equipped with her own talents and vision.

The studio back-and-forth, then, as I see it, is between the Ellen who insists on organization and control, and the Ellie who is committed to the search for her inner truth and authenticity. The painting is the field in which this struggle is played out. The more she is able, as I see it, to allow the painting to emerge intuitively, from the inner core of being, the more successful it becomes. I have this notion that a painting—not unlike a piece of writing—has its own sense of what it wants to become, and that the task of painting it involves as much the ability to stand out of its way as the ability to control the way in which it happens.

In this view, “Ellen,” the controller, becomes the antagonist in the creative struggle. I don't see this as an exclusively negative role. Indeed, it’s a vital one. Ellen wants to be sure that Ellie doesn’t make a fool of herself, that she doesn’t reveal too many of her inner secrets, that she doesn’t go blubbering and otherwise emoting all over the canvas. The trick is to find the balance, to be able to persuade Ellen to take the back seat when she’s not needed—and to quite acting as the back seat driver! When this happens, in Ellie’s painting, she stands a far better chance of allowing the painting to become what it wants to be--and not incidentally to reveal some more to her about who she is.

And then, of course, having expounded all this great wisdom to my wife, I realize that I am really talking to myself. I have my own old battle with the one I knew for a long time as “the editor,” who would stand looking over my shoulder as I wrote, offering his “helpful” advice and criticism: that’s so ridiculous! Who would ever read such nonsense? And if anyone ever reads it, they’ll see right through you for the fraud you are. You’re just showing the world how ignorant you are! So I was talking not only about Ellie, not only about myself, but about every artist caught in that familiar struggle between “form” and “content,” between the drive for free, spontaneous expression from the depths of the soul and the technical skill and control that are needed to give voice to it. The mano-a-mano between Ellie and Ellen is the dilemma of creative people of all kinds, in all generations. And it’s certainly my own…

Absorb, contemplate, extrapolate-An Interview.

Hello dear readers! I am absolutely honored to be supplying my first interview to you in what I hope to be a long standing series of discussions with young and developing artists in Los Angeles and the various obstacles, brought to light and addressed in Persist, that they might face in their daily lives. Please enjoy, contemplate, and most importantly...discuss!!

Interview with David Elsenbroich-June 16th, 2010

We all know that fear is quite a process. As an artist what can we do with the sometimes numbing and debilitating sensation of fear? Can we sing with it? Paint with it? Dance with it? Act like it’s something else? How does a fear of failure or even success dictate the path of the creative process for so many people and how might an artist's relationship to their medium change with a degree in their field?

In this short interview i wanted to supply us with insight from one of my peers from the Thornton School of Music at the University of Southern California and his immediate experience waltzing with the fear of gaining monetary stature in a creative field.

David Elsenbroich,

a twenty-four-year old Northern Californian native, obtained his Masters in Studio Jazz Guitar Performance this past May.

Emily: What is it you are afraid of right now, fresh out of school, in regards to your future?

David: I think obviously making enough money to sustain myself now and in the future in terms of having a family, but also being able to sustain my creative endeavors. In other words, not getting caught up in pursuing the things that only forward my monetary success. As in, I don’t want to sacrifice the idea of fulfilling my creative and artistic goals in order to entertain my fears regarding my financial future.

Emily: Do you find it difficult to separate your personal and monetary goals right now?

David: Yes. Like, it’s hard to say because at this point in my life I’m not quite sure what my goals are for either of those things. All I have right now is short term goals. And although having short term goals worries me it’s the only way i can cope with the situation right now. All I know how to form right now is short term goals.

Emily: So does the idea of forming goals in an artistic profession frighten you? How much of that fear do you feel was dictated by your experience in school? In other words, would you be afraid of the same things had you not received an extensive education in music?

David: Mmmmmmmmm (imagine a low guttural growl).......did you just write that? Are you writing this now? Umm...Its a strange mix. On the one hand I feel apprehension and fear because I feel like I’ve spent so much time in school that I’m behind my peers in terms of reaching my goals of artistic success. Also, I feel stunted in my creative thought because so much of my creative thought has been determined by what has been required of me in school. On the other hand, (long pause), on the other hand I think I feel more confidence about my future, because of school. I think that school, particularly graduate school, has taught me that I can specifically achieve just about anything no matter how lofty that goal might be. So it’s a strange mix between a fear that Im behind in achieving my goals and a sense of confidence in the fact that i can achieve those goals if i put my mind to it.

Emily: Imagine you were somehow miraculously sustained monetarily. You didn’t have to worry about money. How would this change the creative process for you? Just the process? Or would it re-shape you as an artist?

David: The process wouldn’t be as desperate. But to a certain extent it would be the same because my end goal would be the same in both processes.

Emily: In three words, define your process of course ending with the goal. Tell us the David Eric Elsenbroich Process.

David: My process? Absorb, contemplate, extrapolate.

There was a bit of a pause as David thought about those three words but once he had decided, he said them with more confidence than anything else spoken during the entire interview.

Now I have a few questions for you readers. Maybe for some people the process is clear, but the goals are not. Do they have to be? Is it generally more intimidating to allow your goals and dreams to stay clear and specific in your mind as a fear of failure could infiltrate your productivity? Does a fear of failure (or success) inhibit you or inspire you?