Category: art

art, blog, creativity, imagination

Step 326: Keep a Canvas Blank

Christa Avampato

When I moved into my apartment over a year ago, I had nothing but a borrowed air mattress from a friend and a handful of clothes. My apartment building fire in my former apartment building ruined most of my belongings and the few that were salvageable were sent away for a special cleaning to remove the soot and the horrid smell that’s left in everything after a fire. It’s a smell that I’ll never forget. I looked around at my very blank, very empty apartment and my heart sank. I would have to start over. Again.

In the months after my fire I tried putting my material life back together. It was slow going. I had some art that was saved but the frames were ruined. I got them re-framed and tried to hang them on my blank walls. I couldn’t do. I’d start to put a picture hook into the wall and start crying. Starting over was painful, lonely work. Eventually, I just cried my way through it because it had to be done, and once I got to the other side of that good cry, I had walls that were decorated and a heart that felt more peaceful.

This experience caused a recent blog post by Derek Sivers to really hit home for me. Derek is the musician, programmer, and entrepreneur who created CD Baby and then gave away his company to charity to support music education. He’s a brilliant guy, generous, courageous, and best of all an incredibly honest writer. A few days ago he wrote a blog post entitled “Why wreck a blank canvas“. My only criticism of the post is I wish he had written it sooner. It would have helped me through my struggles of starting over. I wouldn’t have felt so badly about my very blank, new canvas known as my apartment, and in many ways, mirrored my life at that moment, too.

In the post Derek talks about the large blank canvases he has on the walls of his home. He leaves them blank intentionally to inspire others. A blank canvas allows every person to have his or her own unique vision of what should populate that area. It’s a conversation starter for Derek and a creativity jump starter to everyone who views those blank canvases. The comments on the post are equally fantastic – read through them. I’m taking my cue from Derek. I’m getting a blank canvas and hanging it up on my wall as a reminder that I will always be strong enough to start over.

art, community, creativity, talents, technology, TED

Step 291: Collaboration Gives Life to Dreams

Christa Avampato

“Have a collegial, supportive, yeasty, zany, laughter-filled environment where folks support one another, and politics is as absent as it can be in a human (i.e., imperfect) enterprise.” ~ Tom Peters

“If you want to be incrementally better: Be competitive. If you want to be exponentially better: Be cooperative.” ~ Author Unknown, via Daily Good

Here’s the most exciting development in an increasing global marketplace and integrated society: collaboration is no longer an option. To get anything done these days, we must play nice in the sandbox and we must encourage and support the dreams and visions of others. I used to have a refrigerator magnet that read “Be Nice or Leave. Thank You.” I used to post it up at work and people would think “oh, isn’t that funny?” And actually it wasn’t. It was my truth. If people can’t be nice, then I can’t work with them. I’m 100% fine with people who passionately and vocally stand by their convictions and have opinions. I have loads of them, and I love people who have a strong point-of-view. But respecting and accepting that different ideas are possible and viable is critical to the kindness I’m looking for in others and cultivating within myself. We learn a lot from the opinions of others, particularly if they don’t match our own.

My friend, Chris, just spoke at TEDxGotham, whose theme centered on collaboration. (Check out his Twitter feed at http://twitter.com/Chris_Elam.) His dance company, Misnomer, is working on a technology platform that greatly enhances an artist’s ability to connect and collaborate with an audience. Artists are the perfect group to lead this charge for collaboration across the board because their livelihoods are predicated on it. They must work with others to convey their visions, and rely on the opinions and actions of others to spread the message of their work.

We all have that artist spirit within us. We all have visions of the world we’d like to live in. We have dreams and hopes and fears. It’s one of the underlying aspects of being human – our imagination. The tie that binds. And so even if we don’t understand or agree with someone, we can take comfort in the fact that all people, everywhere, have the desire to build the life they imagine.

There’s a tendency for a little voice inside us to get too much air time. “How could you possibly do “x”? or “Are you really qualified to make “y” happen?” We can sometimes feel selfish for getting all that we work for and deserve. Thank that little voice for its efforts and then turn its volume down to zero. You deserve to see your dreams come alive, and then some. When we base our lives on our imaginations, we’re giving others the inspiration and strength to do the same. Living the life you want is actually the most generous gift you can give the world because you’re giving us the very best of you. It’s the very highest ideal of collaboration.

art, change, choices, faith, fear, politics, relationships, religion, theatre

Step 287: Review of the Off-Broadway Show, Freud’s Last Session

Christa Avampato

In 1998, I saw the play Picasso at the Lapin Agile in San Francisco. I remember being completely riveted watching the fictional meeting of two of the most inspiring characters of all time, Einstein and Picasso. This construct for a play appealed to me so much that I still routinely think about that show 12 years later. It was at times touching and sad, joyful and hopeful. Full of lively, passionate debate and intense discussion about timeless social issues, I always felt it would be hard for a play to match Steve Martin’s brilliance.

Lucky for us Mark St. Germain has succeeded in building a script that’s even more powerful and thought-provoking than Martin’s – Freud’s Last Session, now playing off-Broadway at The Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater at the West Side YMCA. Freud’s Last Session showcases the possibly factual meeting between a young C.S. Lewis, a devout Christian and the gifted author who would go on to write The Chronicles of Narnia and The Screwtape Letters, and Sigmund Freud, a life-long atheist, consummate intellectual, and founding figure of psychoanalysis, who is at the very end of his life and career, dying of oral cancer. Set in London on September 3, 1939, the invasion of Poland by the Nazis serves as the political backdrop of their meeting.

The piece made me laugh out loud one moment, and tug at my deepest convictions the next. The dialogue is so sharp and the acting by Martin Rayner (Freud) and Mark H. Dold (Lewis) so penetrating that the 75-minute show flew by, too quickly in my opinion. I wanted more of the debate and the history. I found myself rooting for their relationship, and wanting it to go on, in spite of knowing that 20 days later Freud would engage his long-time friend and physician to end his battle with cancer.

The show touches upon an incredibly diverse set of themes: religion first and foremost, war, death, sexuality, fear, faith, love, memory, humor, and change. While this list of topics seems overwhelming, they are in the very capable hands and words of St. Germain, who expertly weaves them together in such a seamless way that I found myself completely wrapped up in the story as if it were my own. The language he uses is so vivid and the mannerisms of the actors are so authentic that I truly felt I was peering into a window on history. This play is the most rare form of theatrical work – a perfect script. Every single word precisely and beautifully chosen. The set and lighting designs are so realistic that I felt transported across space and time to Freud’s London study to witness this single, emotional meeting.

This show has a special, very personal meaning for me because my father was a Freudian psychologist. He passed away when I was a teenager, long before I ever had the opportunity to have a conversation with him as Lewis may have had with Freud. I didn’t get the opportunity to understand his contradictions and complexities, though that may have been for the best. At the end of his life, he was in a great deal of pain physically and emotionally, as Freud was. Through the dialogue of Freud’s Last Session, I was able to put together some more pieces about my father’s personality, as if I had actually been placed there in that seat for a very specific reason – to help me get a little bit closer to understanding my childhood. My thanks to Mark St. Germain for this amazing gift; he has inspired me to dig deeper and learn more about Freud and Lewis. I’m confident that there are more answers there, waiting for me to discover them. And that is perhaps the greatest lesson of the show – that self-discovery is a journey that never ends and yet must be pursued. As he so adeptly has Lewis say, “The real struggle is to keep trying.”

Freud’s Last Session runs through November 28th at The Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. Don’t miss it.

Image above depicts Mark H. Dold and Martin Rayner as Lewis and Freud, respectively.

art, determination, museum, music

Step 263: Hahn-Bin and the Art of Darkness

Christa Avampato

“After my very deep depression, I feel really lucky to have had experience with something so dark and sad. It helps me paint the brightest colors.” ~ Hahn-Bin, violinist

My friend, Sara, invited me to Hahn-Bin’s violin concert on Sunday night at the Rubin Museum. After a productive day (a.k.a. a Sunday that was too busy for my liking), I joined Sara at the concert that turned out to be part performance art, part theatre, part visual design – all orchestrated by a 22-year old virtuoso musician with a very strong sense of himself and his vision. He is stunning, in appearance and in his musicality.

Already blown away by his nearly 2-hour performance, Hahn-Bin gave a very personal talk-back in which he talked about his fascination with world religion, his belief in the highly personal nature of art interpretation, and his struggles with and triumphs over depression. Watching him play with such ease and grace, I was confused by his depression. With a packed house and such a highly individual, refreshing voice in the highly stuffy world of classical music, what is he depressed about? And then I considered how difficult it must be to fight against the traditional music scene, filled with conservatories that are filled with professors who tell you what art and music mean. He must have had many moments of extreme self-doubt, of worry and concern for his future. He placed all his chips on his music – to fail at this would be mean failure in the highest degree.

Hahn-Bin’s story now is a triumphant one – someone who went for his art along his own path because it was the only thing he wanted to do. With his life and his art, he is teaching us an incredible lesson. To create his life, he just followed his interests. And along any path, even one we choose with all our heart, there will be highs and lows. There will be successes and failures and moments of extreme discomfort. Just because we’re going in the right direction doesn’t mean we’re immune to pain.

The right path isn’t the one filled with sunshine and roses; it’s the one where we feel most alive, where we can experience the great depth and breadth of the human experience. It makes us strong without hardening our hearts. It gives us courage and teaches us grace. And if we can make a go of the life we truly want to live, then we also have the opportunity to inspire others to do the same.

Photo above of Hahn-Bin by Morgan Freeman.

art, change, museum, New York City

Step 255: Matisse’s Unfinished Works

Christa Avampato

I went to MoMA today to see the special Matisse exhibition. It covers the period between 1913 and 1917 when Matisse began to find his groove that became his hallmark – the voluptuous figures, bold colors, and intentionally unfinished quality of seemingly simplistic forms. It is a collection of work gathered from all over the world, from a variety of public and private collections, that is a rare treat that showcases an artist as he gains confidence in his own voice. So often art exhibitions show an artist’s work that made him or her famous, that fully expresses a specific point of view. MoMA’s Matisse exhibit however shows an artist in the process of becoming.

My friends, Allan, Sara, Andrew, and I all commented on how much of Matisse’s work in the exhibit remains intentionally unfinished. He made very few comments on the work while he was alive, leaving the interpretation to his audience. On the audio tour, curators from MoMA and the Art Institute of Chicago commented on the work, largely guessing at what Matisse meant to say with each piece as he re-worked each canvas several times with different color schemes, adding new characters, and then taking them away, changing background colors and landscapes. Matisse never seemed to be satisfied or finished with a work. Rather, he just moved on.

Matisse’s work got me thinking about how we all work the different canvases of our lives. We move on from jobs, relationships, cities where we live, leaving each with some mark that we were there and yet giving them the freedom to evolve long after we’ve gone, all remaining open to interpretation of what our presence meant and what might have happened if we had stayed on longer. Maybe Matisse in his early career had it right not just about art, but about life – we are all in the process of becoming, no work (or life) is ever quite finished, and it all deserves celebration and reflection.

Matisse: Radical Invention, 1913 – 1917 is on exhibit at MoMA until October 11, 2010.

The photo above depicts Henri Matisse painting Bathers by a River, May 13, 1913. Photograph by Alvin Langdon Coburn. Courtesy of George Eastman House, International Museum of Photography and Film, Rochester

art, celebration, children, legacy, memory

Step 243: Celebrations and Legacy Building

Christa Avampato

“A nation reveals itself by the people it honors, the people it remembers, and the people it celebrates.” ~ President John F. Kennedy

While Dan and I were in Philly over the weekend, we stopped into the U.S. Mint to see where the money’s made. Because it was a Saturday, the manufacturing floor was not operating but we could take a look at the machinery and the self-guided plaques told us about the process.

As we were leaving the Mint, there was a small section dedicated to commemorative coins. Off to the side there was a display of memorabilia that the Mint produced to commemorate Charles M. Schultz, the creator of Peanuts, one of my very favorite set of characters. I went to Schultz’s house in Santa Rosa, California, a number of years ago and was blown away by his creative process and the simplicity of his life. One time a reporter asked him if he could confirm the rumor that Charlie Brown was actually a reflection of his own personality when Schultz was a child. He replied, “Of course he is. And so is every one of the other characters. They’re all me.”

In the Schultz display at the Mint, the JFK quote at the top of this post appears next to a listing of quotes from famous artists who commented on Charles Schulz’s passing and his tremendous influence on American pop culture. In Santa Rosa, a similar display appears, though it spans roughly a 100 foot long, floor-to-ceiling wall.

Charles Schulz was loved during his lifetime, and has remained well-remembered and celebrated long after his passing. I dare say that his memory will continue on for many generations to come. The fact that we continue to celebrate a man who remained so tapped in to his childhood throughout his life gives me great hope that we can do the same, and want to do the same.

That got me thinking about the subject of legacy, the efforts we put into the world now so that we will have a last impacting long after we cross over. The people we hold up as examples of inspiration and admiration says a lot about the people we mean to be, which in turn tells us a lot about the kind of world we wish to live in, which again in turn tells us about our collective values and purpose.

Once we know our purpose, then legacy-building isn’t a chore – it’s a natural process. Charles Schulz woke up every day to turn his attention toward the concerns of the world, and mad those concerns bearable through the stories and experiences of the Peanuts kids. This says to me that we do care about the common human experience. He made us all recognize just how connected we are, and while we all have our own unique quirks, much like the Peanuts gang, we all want to be loved, accepted, and encouraged to practice. We all want to find out way. And that is an act worth celebrating.

art, New York City, nostalgia, theatre

Step 240: Spiderman the Musical and Nostalgia for the Theatre

Christa Avampato

Yesterday I was in midtown to get a pie as a gift for my hosts this weekend. My pal, Dan, and I are heading to Philly for a weekend – our third long weekend of travel together. (The other two were to Portland, Maine and Nashville.) We’re staying with Dan’s friends and I’m bringing a pie from The Little Pie Company as a gift for them. I went to college in Philly and haven’t been back in a number of years. Dan has never been. I’m excited to see what we find – Philly holds a mix of emotions and experiences for me, some of the very best and very worst of my life.

As I headed back to the subway from The Little Pie Company, I walked by the theatre where Spiderman the Musical will open on November 14th. The stagehands were outside the stage door having lunch. I asked them if they were working on Spiderman, they said yes, and asked if I’d like a tour of the theatre. I gladly accepted.

It’s been a while since I’ve stood on a Broadway stage. It used to make me so nervous. I’d do whatever I could to avoid standing on the stage – I have had a life-long struggle with stage fright. Or at least I used to. Today standing on the Spiderman stage didn’t make me nervous at all. It kind of felt like going back to my hometown after being away for a long time. Some things were different and all in all it felt very familiar.

I know and understand all of the reasons I stopped managing Broadway shows. I’ve never considered going back. That was a chapter of my life that I’m so glad I had, and I’m so glad I left when I did. It was still the best business training I’ve ever had, and I was so fortunate to have that experience. But for just a split second, I imagined what it might be like to go back. I could feel the exhilaration of starting something new and unique, helping bring a new vision to delighted audiences. Maybe there’s a way to weave it back into my life, not in the same way as I did all those years ago, but in some new form that better fits my life and outlook today. I’ll mull that over and let you know what I find. I find it ironic that I would have this experience just as I’m heading to Philly, where I first considered a career in professional theatre, and on the same day that I received an invitation in the mail for a New York City theatre event sponsored by my Philly alma mater. Universe, what are you trying to tell me?

For the record, Spiderman is going to be a crazy, wild production. It will be unlike anything we’ve ever seen. That’s all I’m saying so as to protect the artistic integrity and the magic of life on the Great White Way. Grab some tickets before they’re gone!

art, choices, decision-making, impact

Step 238: Virtuous Feedback Loops and Doing What We Do Well (and Love)

Christa Avampato

“In the last analysis, the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for “finding himself.” If he persists in shifting his responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence.” ~ Thomas Merton, Trappist monk, poet, and author

My Uncle Tom sent me this quote just as I was online researching virtuous feedback loops, an operations term that describes a system that is built to educate itself by doing the very act it was created to perform. (There really is no end to my nerd-dom.) With virtuous feedback loops, a system constantly learns and improves. It’s a technical paradigm that at its core supports the old adage of “practice makes perfect”, at least “practice makes better.”

I thought about how we build systems into our lives that function as virtuous feedback loops. Certainly music, sports, the arts, and cooking are examples of these loops – we improve these skills just by practicing them, learning something from each new shot we take at it. Except when we hit a wall. Improvement ceases, we get stuck, and then grow to hate the activity altogether.

I was a saxophone player when I was in school, and I was truly mediocre. I would practice and practice and practice and really never make any great strides. I finally got so frustrated with the lack of progress that I decided to be a jazz fan and turn my artistic energy toward writing, design, and business (which, yes, is most certainly an art). It was a wise choice on my part. I’ve turned out to be a much more productive and happier writer, designer, and business woman than I ever would have been a jazz artist.

We have only so much energy and years to while away on this planet. Thomas Merton implores us to take a look at our lives from our own perspective, not anyone else’s. Take stock of what really matters, what we love to do, and where we can be useful, and action against that. Build virtuous feedback loops in our lives that do what they’re meant to do – help us get better at something we’re meant to do. I wasn’t meant to be a saxophone player. And as disappointed as I was to realize that at the time, I’m glad I didn’t spend years trying to hack away as a mediocre musician.

That move took some serious serious self-analysis and more than a little humility. I had to let go of what I loved but couldn’t improve so that I could find a new happiness and passion. I had to quit to succeed. Sometimes that happens, and it’s okay.

So if you find yourself stuck in a rut, working at something that just isn’t improving and that you’re actually growing to dislike as a result, then maybe it’s time to find a new passion, one that you can improve upon as you practice. Just make sure that if you do get a new dream, you’re the one making the choice. This is your time after all, and you only get one chance to be you.

art, failure

Step 215: Famous Failures

Christa Avampato

My friend, Amanda, wrote a very brave post about “failure”, meaning she tried something that didn’t go the way she wanted it to. That post coincided with my reading about failing the Pixar Way – at the speed of change.

My brother-in-law, Kyle, really should start a career as an animator, or maybe an animation historian. He knows more about Pixar and John Lasseter than they know about themselves. After a long conversation with him about Pixar, I picked up two books about the company: Innovate the Pixar Way and The Pixar Touch.

Both books gives us the background of how Pixar started and innovated its way into the top animation house in the world, despite having no nest egg to fall back on. My favorite piece of Pixar trivia: John Lasseter ended up at Pixar when Disney fired him for voicing his support for computer animation to Disney’s senior leadership. They disagreed with him, he stood his ground, and then they let him go from his dream job, the only job he ever wanted. Lasseter left Disney severely disappointed and disillusioned. By all accepted business practices of the day, Lasseter failed.

Of course, the story continues, as stories always do, and in the end Lasseter, the classic underdog, won. He now runs Disney animation, the very unit that deemed him unfit as an animator under the Disney roof. A Hollywood movie in the making.

In Innovate the Pixar Way, authors Bill Capodagli and Lynn Jackson list other famous failures and the list bears repeating. Some I knew and sometimes surprised the heck out of me!:

1.) The fax machine was a failed invention in the 1840’s

2.) The copy machine was rejected by GE and IBM in 1937

3.) John Grisham’s first novel, A Time to Kill, was rejected by 12 publishers. It took him 3 years to write it, and Wynwood Press eventually published it. It went on to become a best-seller and a Hollywood movie that grossed almost $110M. A first edition of the book goes for ~$4,000 on eBay. (Fun fact – in business school I lived in a house down the road from John Grisham’s home in Charlottesville, VA! He spoke at my University-wide graduation.)

4.) Henry Ford went bankrupt 5 times

5.) Vincent Van Gogh sold only one painting during his lifetime

6.) Orville Wright was expelled from elementary school

7.) Michael Jordan once failed to make his varsity basketball team

8.) Oprah Winfrey failed as a news reporter

9.) Winston Churchill finished last in his class

10.) J.K. Rowling was a jobless, single mom on welfare when she wrote the first Harry Potter book. (Incidentally, Disney CEO Michael Eisner passed on making the Harry Potter series into movies – even Disney still makes bad calls from time to time!)

I wrote this post to remind myself that when failure comes knocking, and it inevitably does for everyone, I don’t need to despair. In failure, I have good company. Just ask John Lasseter.

The image above depicts John Lasseter with Lightning McQueen, animated star of the hit movie Cars. The film was hailed as a critical success and its global gross topped $244M.

art, creativity, film

Step 210: The Role of the Critic and Criticism

Christa Avampato

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends… Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.” ~ Anton Ego (voiced by Peter O’Toole) in Ratatouille (2007), written by Brad Bird

While on vacation in Florida, my brother-in-law pointed out this quote to me. I had seen Ratatouille before though had not paid this quote nearly the credit it deserves. If someone covered the attribution, I would have assumed a seasoned journalist as its writer. The gorgeous language, the lament, the honesty, and then the sense of purpose have an eloquence and dignity to them. I want to make t-shirts with this quote on them. I will certainly paste it up at my desk.

The new, indeed, needs friends. Supporters. Believers. People who can let go of past ideas and conceptions in favor of something different and out of the ordinary. They must step away from the safe, sure bet, and make their way out to the ledge to join the artist who had the courage to go it alone with only his imagination as his guide. Critics and artists alike earn their true credit out there on that ledge together.

Great artists can come from elite pedigree schools and backgrounds – critics often hold up those examples as the pinnacle of high art. As Brad Bird sees it, a great artist could just as easily come from any far-reaching corner of the globe, no training even required, only friends. An artist needs vision and the ability to bear out her ideas for the world to witness and critique. Making art, putting our hearts on our sleeves and inviting others to view them takes conviction, confidence, and bravery. Artists do and must throw caution to the wind. Their pallets may consist of paints, brushes, pens, computer design programs, clay, performance abilities, and a variety of other tools. The medium does not determine greatness. What makes a great artist, and also a great critic, is the unquenchable desire to make and remake, to believe that their greatest work and their greatest discoveries always lie ahead.

My brother-in-law, Kyle Waldrep, painted the image above. Visit his art blog here.