Tim's Blog 2009 (MS Word document) - Everett Kaser Software

Creative Living 2: Stephen Cohn January 10th, 2009 This week's visitor is someone I especially admire, in part because he made
the brave choice to dedicate himself wholly to an art form that creates
very few millionaires and has never produced a subject whose face adorned
the cover of People magazine. Stephen Cohn is an internationally recognized
contemporary classical composer, one of a very small number who regularly
receive commissions for original work from respected performance groups.
His concert works have been performed and recorded by some of the world's
finest classical ensembles, including the Arditti Quartet, the Kansas City
Symphony, the Prague Philharmonic, and the Chroma String Quartet. He was
named Composer-in-Residence at The International Encounters of Catalonia in
France and has been commissioned to compose works for performance in Los
Angeles, New York, Chicago, Brussels, Ceret, France; and Prague. As a film
composer, Cohn won an Emmy Award for the score of Dying With Dignity. His
classical and commercial recordings have been released by Warner Bros.,
Motown, A&M Records, Columbia Records, Albany Records and At Peace Media.
In 2008, three of his works received world premieres in Los Angeles and
Berlin, and 2009 premieres and performances are scheduled in Tucson and
Rome. He can be reached at http://www.stephencohn.com/
My first idea about devoting myself to creative work was to relate
everything in my life to my music. So whatever I did, whether it was
looking at a painting, listening to music, having an argument with my
girlfriend, watching the news, chiding a TV commercial or studying
metaphysics, part of me was thinking about how it could be transformed into
music or bring me closer to the source of musical ideas. It became a way of
life. I explored eastern and western spirituality, ritual magic, mind-expanding
chemicals, quantum physics, visual arts, pop culture, and philosophies of
art and aesthetics in an attempt to track down the source of creativity. At
first there was a fascination with many, apparently different, techniques
for being creative. However, upon closer examination, they all seemed to
point to a few of basic principles: Creativity is a natural part of being
human. Plenty of it is always available if one can only get out the way of
it, develop a sense of how and when to be objective about it and know when
a piece of work is finished. For teaching purposes, I named, or borrowed
names, for the techniques which I find most useful. When I start a new
project, I remind myself of these three things to open the flow, to keep it
growing, to make critical judgments about my work, and to know when
something is complete.
Focusing
When I sit down to work, I first bring myself to a point of concentration.
I tell myself that I am opening up all the resources from the deepest part
of myself for the work session that is about to begin (where the ideas
actually come from, who I'm addressing, is another conversation). Also, I
commit to giving my complete focus to the session and I give thanks for the
time to luxuriate in my work.
Uncritical Outpouring
This is based on the idea that the most profound and original stuff is
inside and if I can just get myself out of the way it will come out. In
starting to write or in continuing something, I find that there are two
main inner currents: the creator and the critic. Both of these are
essential to the process but the trick, for me, is to separate them - to
avoid allowing both to speak at the same time. The critic will shut down
the creator by commenting on the flow as it occurs, so my discipline is to
put a muzzle on the critic until the creator is finished with what it has
to offer. When the critic starts to interrupt, I have to tell it not to
interfere and that it will have its say later. It helps me to remember that
it is the flow that I am after when I begin, and not the finished product.
This takes practice but as the process is trusted, the flow becomes easier
to access and reveals more depth than could be imagined. The value of
what's coming out isn't necessarily recognized as it comes out but rather
later, upon achieving some distance from the work.
This is a simple idea but a difficult discipline to use because in our
culture, we are conditioned to be critical of our thoughts and we're not
encouraged to sit quietly and allow an unbridled flow of ideas. The more I
have worked with this process, the easier it has become.
Uncritical outpouring requires courage. Opening up the deepest levels can
make one feel very naked. However, if I tell myself that this is a totally
private session, whatever comes out is just an experiment (I'm not
committing to it) and nobody will see any of the work until I'm ready to
show it, this helps me to focus fearlessly on letting the creator do its
thing. Also, keeping in mind that this is the beginning of the process, not
the end, helps to keep the critic quiet and the vulnerability tolerable.
After the creator is finished or comes to a natural stopping place, I put
the work down and get away from it. I leave it alone until I know that when
I come back to it, I will have enough objectivity to look at it as if I
were seeing some one else's work for the first time. This could be a few
hours or a day or more. When I pick up the work, it is time to let the
critic roll. The critic will tell me what is worth taking to the next stage
and will give me flashes of what needs to be done next. If I don't find
anything of value, I will go back and do another uncritical outpouring. If
I do find something I like, I apply the uncritical principle to the next
stage of the work - either way I've done my job as a composer. At the end
of the day, I'll have what I wrote or my reasons why I didn't write - same
at the end of my life.
Condensation This is an idea that came from a book on ritual magic. It goes like this:
you take a letter of the alphabet and in your mind; you invest it with a
strong emotion. Then you repeat the process with additional letters until
you have a word. You then continue until you have made a phrase of words,
like abra cadabra. This phrase is invested with all the condensed energy of
all the letters and the resulting words and when you say it out loud, the
theory goes; it releases all that condensed energy creating a powerful,
magical effect. This struck me as a great analogy for a finished piece of
art. For instance, let's take the writing and recording of a song. First
there are many attempts and re-writes of each line of lyrics and melody,
then many attempts and experiments with the structure of the melody and the
song as a whole. Then there is thought and experimentation with the
arrangement of the music, keeping the best ideas. Then in the production,
there are many takes of the track with the best parts of the best takes
spliced together. Then many takes of the vocal with the best parts
assembled and many experiments with background vocals and then sometimes
strings and brass, always capturing the best parts of the takes both in
terms of the music and the performance. Finally, the recording is mixed by
playing it for many hours with the help of automation to bring out the most
perfect balances after much experimentation. When complete, a listener puts
the CD on, presses the button and it sounds like people just playing and
singing but in truth, all that condensed energy from all the levels of
evolution of the music, having always chosen the best of the best is
released in an instant - it's powerful magic.
I find that viewing the creative process this way is very liberating. At
any stage before completion, I can remind myself not to compare what I've
done with a finished product, which can be a show stopper. It is also a
good practical perspective on how the magic gets into the work. In my
experience, it comes not just from re-writing but from being willing to
stick with an idea until it is all it can be - the willingness to stay open
to the possibility that yet another level of depth or beauty or texture can
still be added. How much condensation can you do? How do you know when it's
done? For me, It's done when I want to keep coming back to listen to what
I've written because I just can't wait to hear it again and I'm no longer
getting any flashes suggesting changes or additions.
How does one make any judgments about something one is creating? I think
that right and wrong have no place in the creative realm other than what
intuition tells you. I find that with much focused attention, there is a
subtle voice telling me what's complete and what isn't fully realized. I
have to trust this voice because that's all there is - this is the ultimate
self sufficiency. That voice gets stronger when I trust it and weaker when
I look outside myself for direction.
One other little game I play with myself: When I'm almost finished with
something and there are one or two spots that aren't quite satisfying: I
take the spot I like least and make it into the spot I like the best.
^ ^ ^
Here's a brief excerpt from the finale of Stephen's Two Together: An
American Folk Music Suite, a CD that won a Parents' Choice Gold Award.
Finale
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|This entry was posted on Saturday, January 10th, 2009 at 11:34 pm |
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|21 Responses to "Creative Living 2: Stephen Cohn" |
|Merrilee Faber Says: |
|January 11th, 2009 at 2:03 am |
|Wow, Stephen. You have obviously thought a lot about the creative |
|process. I love what you said about condensation, about putting |
|your energy into the work