Thursday, January 22, 2009

What "inspires" us?

I wish to thank David Steffens and the Bass School of Music at Oklahoma City University for coordinating yesterday's lecture session and concert by Steven Schick.

As I sat and listened to Professor Schick's discussion of some of the monuments of solo percussion music (Xenakis, Ferneyhough, Globokar), as well as the artist's masterfully-communicated performances, I found myself continually pondering, "What is it about this experience that is inspiring me?" For of course, it most certainly was.

Inspiration seems to come in many forms, at least for me, many of which might find a more suitable home in the motivational category. After all inspiration, on a practical level, is essentially a motivation to do or act toward that which we think may restore a once-beloved activity or endeavor (or germinate a new one). Simple enough, but what I struggled with, throughout this recent experience with Mr. Schick, was trying to evaluate and get to the very heart of this reactionary feeling.

Was I responding to the sincerity of the artist's devotion to his craft? How could he possibly spend that much time learning these complex pieces? If so, perhaps I was questioning my own dedication. I waste so much time during practice. Questioning my very motives. Do I like this music enough to pretend to like it as much as he does? Should that matter at all? Questioning whether or not I possess the "mettle" to study such music for the necessary length of time to achieve such a level of understanding. He's been playing some of this music for 30 years. I can't fathom that right now. Is it worth it for me to even think in such terms of proficiency?

Such a line of thought is, admittedly, embarrassingly superficial. We percussionists are known for that. Even so, what immediately strikes me about Steven Schick is not his technical prowess, or even his seemingly limitless capacity for accurately committing complex music to memory, but rather the way that his being seems to eminate artistry -- not simply externally, but from the deepest reaches of his soul. Schick lives and breathes this music on such an organic level that one can truly hear the mind of the composer speaking through artist -- the medium.

For me, in my warped mind (supposing that all artists' minds are blissfully warped), all of this questioning does indeed provide true inspiration -- if only the inspiration to question further. At its simplest, an experience such as this one can serve as a rejuvinator toward achieving at a higher (or at least more dedicated) level, and far be it from me to attempt to rob anyone of that very real gift. But I wonder if perhaps I'm only beginning to learn what truly drives me as an artist, and how that will inevitably change over the course of my life.

At any rate, thank you Steven.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It's sometimes funny how an artist tends to over-think his emotional reactions. I suppose your doing a good job at connecting the art of psychology to performance art. When an artist of your caliber is inspired we all should take note.