How much do we project our interior world on the canvas of the world at large?

<p>Julie,</p>

<p>I think this is an important distinction and I'll make it only once and then be done with it.</p>

<p>Here are two examples of a personal attack: "Crooked Hillary," "Little Marco."</p>

<p>They are personal attacks because they attack the person and not the ideas.</p>

<p>Here's an example of an argument against an idea or way of thinking: "Try as you like to straight-jacket creativity into a singular notion that fits all acts of creation, and you will fail, as is the case in this thread."<br>

<br>

That I think you've straight-jacketed creativity into a singular notion is not a personal attack. That I think your method of thinking and logic fails is not a personal attack. I won't apologize for or stop speaking this way.</p>

<p>Yes, the devil is the symbol of evil. I think most people take Beauty to be good. By associating beauty with the devil, I think Mapplethorpe is intentionally being morally provocative and quite directly questioning prevailing notions of what is good in a moral sense. I think his photography and not just his words shows that.</p>

<p>" ... and then be done with it."</p>

<p>Thank you. That would be lovely.</p>

<p>Re Mapplethorpe, I think you're putting words in his mouth. Maybe he thought that. Maybe not. If so, I'm pretty disappointed. I thought he was being creative, not pushing an agenda.</p>

<p>I think he was being both creative and provocative. "Pushing an agenda" puts an unnecessarily negative spin on what he was doing. Being motivated by a goal or questioning moral norms doesn't have to be seen as pushing an agenda, though it's a common reactionary way of spinning things. I have no interest in quieting artists from making political, social, and moral statements.</p>

<p>If Picasso was "pushing an agenda," so be it. I don't care what you call it. Whether it was a moral statement he felt he needed to make or an agenda he wanted to push doesn't impact his creativity.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>Picasso said: <em>"The Spanish struggle is the fight of reaction against the people, against freedom. My whole life as an artist has been nothing more than a continuous struggle against reaction and the death of art. How could anybody think for a moment that I could be in agreement with reaction and death? ... In the panel on which I am working, which I shall call </em><em>Guernica, and in all my recent works of art, I clearly express my abhorrence of the military caste which has sunk Spain in an ocean of pain and death."</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>Making moral and political statements (pushing an agenda, if you must call it this) is not incompatible with being creative.</p>

<p>An agenda is something you already have. You don't create things you already have.</p>

<p>"When I have sex with someone I forget who I am. For a minute I even forget I'm human. It's the same thing when I'm behind the camera. I forget I exist." — <em>Robert Mapplethorpe, quoted in Morrisroe</em>, A Biography, <em>p. 193</em></p>

Picasso wasn't creating the morality or social judgments he may have already been holding. He created a PAINTING, using

some of his already-held social and moral beliefs as motivation to do so and in order to express or communicate them as

well.

 

We've been talking about (your repressive choice of words) an "agenda" motivating or being communicated through creativity. You're conflating that with an agenda being creative, which it may very well not be. It's the making of the painting that's creative, the moral, social, or political belief driving that creativity. I'm not claiming the belief is creative. I'm saying creating the painting is. And I'm saying creating the painting is not amoral.

Yes, I also like that quote by Mapplethorpe. Quotes are best taken altogether to arrive at a complex and multi-dimensional

picture of the person being questioned rather than trying to limit someone to a narrow or singular being. I also bring in a

lot of stuff Patti Smith related about Mapplethorpe's thinking and actions as he pursued his art, illuminating actions he

took relayed by others as well. He may well have forgotten himself behind the camera. But he certainly didn't forget either

himself or his ego when he was courting Warhol and the inner circles of the NYC art world. His creativity is not limited to

the moment when his eye is behind the camera. Just as I believe Steve's creativity is not limited to the flow he feels when

he's shooting.

<p>"I don't think there's that much difference between a photograph of a fist up someone's ass and a photograph of carnations in a bowl. ... It's a different subject, same treatment, same vision, which is what it's all about — my eyes as opposed to someone else's." — <em>Robert Mapplethorpe, quoted in Hershkovits, "Shock of the Black and Blue," 10</em></p>

That's right. He's obviously very conscious of his "agenda" of treating penises, assholes, and flowers as equals. For me, it's

not a chicken and egg thing, not a matter of caring if his eyes just happened to see so democratically and then he

formulated his statement afterward or whether he had these pre-held beliefs about fisting and flowers and then portrayed

this lack of difference in his photos. I think it was probably a back and forth . . . His beliefs informing his photos and seeing

and his seeing and photos informing his beliefs. Regardless, the body of work has a moral dimension. I don't see how the

equal treatment of a fist up someone's ass and a bowl of carnations, especially at the time he was doing this, was

somehow amoral. That would be bizarre.

Dante quotes Mapplethorpe as saying that he was "playing with the edge that separates art from mere pornography."

 

Mapplethorpe was no dope. And he was not a morally neutral, belief challenged creator who saw only with his eyes and

not with a sense of what he wanted to say and what his body of work was to be about. His descriptions of how he worked

and felt while he was working don't tell the full story of his creativity.

 

All this being said, Mapplethorpe is not among my favorite photographers and I think he was more provocative than

creative, which doesn't diminish his historical importance as a photographer. But his images themselves don't provoke me

as aesthetically as they do socially. I think there's more style than substance to a lot of his work.

 

To me, art is about both substance and style, and the substance is often taking a moral, philosophical, social, political or

other kind of stand. I never found the dialogue between substance and style in Mapplethorpe's photos as moving or enlightening as many other photographers.

<p>Do you think Weston was interested in creativity?</p>

<p>I'm not criticizing Weston. I just don't think he was interested in being creative. I think he loved beauty. I think he never doubted or questioned his conception, his preconceived conception of what beauty was. I don't think it even occurred to him to do so. Finding embodiments of such beauty was, of course, a struggle (the work).</p>

<p>I'm glad he didn't doubt his conceptions — his work is gorgeous. But I would have loved to see what he might have done had he questioned his interior world view.</p>

<p>When he and Charis were driving around on his Guggenheim grant, she would look out for "Westons." When she spotted one, they would stop and, if all went well, he would photograph it.</p>

<p>Weston wasn't creative?</p>

<p>What he might have done if only . . . ?</p>

<p>I get really miffed when I hear people put down academia and spout anti-intellectual views. It's pretty common these days. But, when academics calls into question Weston's creativity and wonders what he might have accomplished if only he'd questioned his preconceptions, academia has gone off the rails. This is not, though, an indictment of academia. It is meant to question a world view that seems born only of eccentrically-defined concepts and not actual human experience. Once Weston is defined outside of creativity, creativity has suffered a great loss.</p>

<blockquote>

<p>The author of the essay questions Weston's use of terms like 'essence' and 'quintessence' in his writings when describing his approach to subjects and which seemingly contradict with some of his other writings where Weston also talks about the importance of the individuality and intelligence of the photographer behind the camera.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>Glad you included this. Most of us live with contradictions and I find a great amount of contradictory statements among the same artist's words. For one, context is everything, and a lack of context for a quote will often make it seem like something different from when it was said at the time. Secondly, I think many artists struggle with conflict, so the utterance of contradictions even within the same essay, is relatively easy to understand, not to mention provocative to consider. While I may look for consistency of thought and reasoning in a logician, that's not the way I read artists. I take most artist's writing and thinking more impressionistically.</p>

<p>Artists often seem to display some dichotomy of their thoughts and actions. Weston, like other creative human beings, was probably influenced by the dual process of the exterior world interacting with his interior self and the interior world conditioning the perception of the exterior world. The example of the latter may be that of the "Westons" observed by Charis. While they may be written off as simply a recognizable style that may issue from other than an interior world, the perceptive uniqueness of Weston's images speak more to an interior world derivation.</p>

<p>Only a few posts have considered the opposite influence of the exterior world on the interior world, but the two are I think are always in constant play together. When I photograph, I am often conscious of the evident and more hidden spirit of the place that I am in, something that feeds my curiosity and the way I see subjects. Marx stated that man sees everything around him as part of who he is. The uncontrolled presence of nature is a fresh experience that can free him from such predictability. Having spent some time living in the depressing rigid conformity of many North American urban planned cities of grid layout with their cookie cutter architecture duplication it is refreshing to see and be influenced by exterior worlds that deny that conformity. Sometimes these are simply arresting human activities within those grids, but also can be places of more charm or indentity. By escaping habits and conformities, we let our interior world better express itself.</p>

<p>On the question of creativity and originality being different, I would really like to see some concrete examples of this. I think of the two as being intimately related, but would be glad to be shown contrary examples.</p>

<p> </p>

<blockquote>

<p>On the question of creativity and originality being different, I would really like to see some concrete examples of this. I think of the two as being intimately related, but would be glad to be shown contrary examples.</p>

</blockquote>

<p>This will be virtually impossible to answer because it will be too easy simply to define creativity as something coming from the inner world of a person (at least in part) and then, because it comes from that inner world, it is seen as original. Therefore, anything a unique individual does becomes, by definition, original. Because no one else did precisely that. Presto, originality and creativity become forever intertwined and any example given of someone creating something automatically becomes original because some <em>individual</em> created it. Now, if we are, on the other hand, willing to accept that individual or creating from one's interior self doesn't HAVE TO BE original (but just has to be individual), we might get somewhere.<br /> <br /> Tchaikovsky's <em>Mozartiana</em> is creative but not original.<br /> <br /> All the many practitioners of cubism who followed Picasso's and Braque's leads were creative but less original.<br /> <br /> The song <a href="

OTHER LOVE</a>, appropriated from Chopin, is creative but not original.</p>

<p>Most B film noir movies are creative but not original.</p>

<p>Many impressionist painters were creative but not original.</p>

<p>Todd Haynes's <em>Far From Heaven</em> is much less original but only a little less creative than the original he paid homage to, Douglas Sirk's <em>All That Heaven Allows</em>.</p>

<p>Why do we differentiate between an original screenplay and an adapted screenplay? We don't say one is creative and one is non-creative, but we do recognize that one is original and one is adapted!</p>

<p>I've purposely mimicked several well-known photographers in a few of my own photos. I consider them not original but think of them still as creative. I think most photographers have emulated, at least at times, other photographers they appreciate. Those photos have less to do with originality than creativity, IMO.</p>

<p>The question Jack proposed for this thread has obviously and necessarily driven discussions about creativity, originality, states of mind, philosophy, innovation, personality, conscious and unconscious, etc. You can tell from the involvement these are important concepts for many of us participating here. We’ll never all agree on everything, obviously. I appreciate the fact that we come from all sorts of backgrounds and experiences which encourages me to think and consider things in new ways. My personal belief (which has scientific support) is that humans are genetically designed for innovation in order to survive as a species. Everybody knows the familiar Picasso quote: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” Our brains are rewarded, literally, when we do something or discover something that is especially good, which reinforces that behavior to enhance survival. It feels good to do something creative, in other words, which is rewarding in itself. To me, creativity is picking up a camera and simply looking for something to photograph, or drawing, or strumming a guitar inventively, or writing a poem, writing a story, or even solving a mechanical problem with your lawn mower by grabbing some odd parts you have in the garage. Any time you enter that frame of mind where you are opening your mind to possibilities that are “out there” and waiting for you to discover, is creativity. Sure, you can complicate this with personality quirks, education, different motivations, desire for fame, etc. but the bottom line is that creativity is innately rewarding, no matter how basic, or unschooled, or childlike, or simple. The fact that we are all participating in a forum which is dedicated to photography where we share our images and our thinking, I think illustrates how important and rewarding exploring our own creativity is to all of us. Because we are all different means we all experience the creative act in our own unique way, and our photographs express those differences. Vive la difference!</p>

<p>Well then. My dogs are incredibly creative. I've seen some very creative birds. Bees, even ...</p>

<p>Steve, while I think for many "creativity is innately rewarding" or at least rewarding even if not innately, I think there are many counterexamples to that, where creativity has nothing to do with personal <em>reward</em>. In many cases, creativity is <em>driven</em>, often by fear, sometimes by madness.</p>

<p>Here's Edvard Munch . . .</p>

<blockquote>

<p><em>"My father was temperamentally nervous and obsessively religious—to the point of psychoneurosis. From him I inherited the seeds of madness. The angels of fear, sorrow, and death stood by my side since the day I was born. I inherited two of mankind's most frightful enemies—the heritage of consumption and insanity."</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>I don't think he ultimately is painting as a catharsis or is being personally rewarded by his creativity. His creativity is born of a very different flavor from anything like personal reward. It is a kind of madness, it's fright, it's nightmare, he can't help it and may not even want it. He doesn't seem to have a choice.</p>

<p>A bit more from Munch . . .</p>

<blockquote>

<p><em>"I was walking down the road with two friends when the sun set; suddenly, the sky turned as red as blood. I stopped and leaned against the fence, feeling unspeakably tired. Tongues of fire and blood stretched over the bluish black fjord. My friends went on walking, while I lagged behind, shivering with fear. Then I heard the enormous, infinite scream of nature. For several years I was almost mad . . . You know my picture, 'The Scream?' I was stretched to the limit—nature was screaming in my blood. . . After that I gave up hope ever of being able to love again."</em></p>

</blockquote>

<p>This does not sound like a man who felt the rewards of creativity.</p>

<p>Phil. I agree. One can both be driven the way Munch was and still find the creative aspect rewarding. I don't get that impression reading about Munch and seeing his work. I was giving one counterexample and, of course, not talking about all cases. I'd be shocked to learn that all creativity was a matter of personal reward just as I'd be shocked to learn that all creativity was a matter of what it was for Munch, or for Steve, or for you.</p>

<p>Fred, first thanks for responding with some examples, although I still feel originality and creativity are very similar and intertwined. The original film featuring Roberto Bellini in "La vie est belle" (Life is beautiful) about a father's encouragement/protection of his son while they were in an internment camp under the Nazis, was both original and creative, yet the subsequent North American copy was anything but. "La la land" is a creative and original film that nonetheless borrows in part the energy and spontaneity common to preceding films like "Dancer in the Dark" (creative music scenes that empathize the film theme). There are déjà vu or clichés in parts of each work, but some fabric of originality and creativity seems to come through in both.</p>

<p>One has to consider the severe artistic trials of both Munch (continuously ignored by critics and salons in his time) and Von Gogh when comparing madness and creativity. Munch was not really mad I believe but instead he was the downtrodden artist feeling things much more intensely than his compatriots. Such intense feelings often characterize very gifted and original artists who have to battle conventional thought.</p>

<p>I am interested if anyone else is occupied by the play between interior world and exterior world inputs and outputs in the work of a photographer. I think it is difficult to ignore or separate the influence of both, and how each nutures the other. We are never really static in the composition of our interior world, but always evolving, if only slowly and in small incremental steps. </p>

I don't think Munch is talking about inspiration. I think he's talking about who he is. From what I've read about Munch, I

don't think of his paintings or the act of him painting as a reward. If you do, so be it. It's fine for us to disagree.

Arthur, I think your examples show that things that are creative can most certainly also be original. I never doubted that so

you're preaching to the choir. My examples were meant to show that not ALL creative things are original, thereby

suggesting important differences between creativity and originality. I can give a whole lot of examples of males who are

also adults. As a matter of fact, most males are adults because most males are over the age of 18 or 21. That doesn't

make the concept of male and the concept of adult similar. If I give an example of, say, my nephew, who is age six, to

show the difference between maleness and adulthood, your giving as a response a male adult really

wouldn't be a helpful example in showing the supposed similarity or intimate relationship between the concepts of maleness and adulthood. It would simply

show that often males are adults. You've shown me that sometimes creativity involves originality,

something I already knew. You haven't shown that the two concepts are similar or that they necessarily go hand in hand.

OK, Phil, I'll grant that who one is informs one's inspiration. That's not the point. The point is that I don't see Munch's act

of creation or his creations themselves as a reward to him. And I don't get the sense he felt them as rewards either. I

could be wrong. its just my thinking. I'm not asserting facts.