Major themes in The Courage to Create seem to be the following
questions which I will attempt to
answer based upon Rollo May's book:
1. “Why do original ideas in science and art “pop
up” from the unconscious at a given time?”
Although
posing this issue, May relates that it can never be entirely answered: "I
realize the unfinished quality would remain, and it is part of the creative
process" (p. 9, May). I believe that the process of artistic production
has an element of mystery, of the unknown.
2.
“What is the relation between talent and
the creative act, and between creativity and death?”
May
says that when it comes to the relationship between creativity and mortality, artists want to be remembered forever. This feeling was also expressed by Mays'
contemporary, anthropologist Ernest Becker, who referred to art as
"immortality projects" in The Denial of Death (1973, Becker).
Whatever
the artist's motivation, the issue remains: what role does skill play in
creativity? May notes varying neurology as a factor in the differences amongst
artists. Just as IQ and aptitudes are neurological and genetic/inherited traits,
according to May, talent is neurological, just as intelligence is. He also
claims that environment influences an artist's inspiration. He adds a third
factor that is neurological in nature: the ability to concentrate and maintain
attention. May mentions intensity, immersion, complete involvement, degree of
awareness, and heightened consciousness as other ingredients of creativity. He
claims that joy is born when these components are sustained at a high degree
and claims that creativity is mostly an unconscious act. The
amount of production is determined by a mix of elements such as neurology (I.Q and E.Q.), aptitudes and talents, heredity, the environment one is in, and the
level of attention one can sustain. Human beings invest time in raising
children and creating things, including art, so that each may leave a modest
imprint on the world. Also, many people suffer from a lack of self-esteem
unconsciously, and this unconscious inferiority drives them to produce. I
believe it is a dread of insignificance rather than a fear of death that drives
many artists. This is why spending time
in meditation when one is not actively thinking, creating, or producing is both
challenging and beneficial for people. It allows one to see, I am not only what
I can create.
3.
“Why do the arts give us pleasure?”
Expressing
ourselves offers us joy and is also mentally restorative, which is why
psychotherapy works. In counseling we are free to express our real thoughts and
feelings. May also mentions "creative courage," which he defines as
the finding of new forms. Courage is a good, empowering sensation, which is why
art is enjoyable. It's also a satisfying sensation to see humanity's
consciousness grow because of your art. Expression, flexing our courage, and
expanding our collective awareness are big enough reasons for artists to keep
creating.
4.
“Do artists create the uncreated
consciousness of the race?”
When
May asks this question, he may be referring to Carl Jung’s theory of the
Collective Unconscious. If one believes in Jung’s description of the universal
Archetype, then the answer is a resounding yes, because art around the world
reflects these common Archetypes. According to Jung, if cultures share
Archetypes, then humanity must share a collective psychic and unconscious
“database” which he termed the Collective Unconscious. However, if one doesn’t
believe that there is a universality of Archetypes and sees it as purely
coincidental, or a reflection of a common human sociology, then the question of
whether artisans are producing a conscious rendering by the inspiration of the
Collective Unconscious would not be possible.
I
do believe in a Collective Unconscious as Jung depicted it. I do not believe it
is happenstance that all cultures share Archetypes in common. It can be argued
that because all of humanity originally ushered from a single genetic source,
that the Archetypes are only a genetic echo of our ancient past. But the fact
that these Archetypes have remained largely unchanged over millions of years
tells me that this is a knowledge that all of humanity has innately that has
kept our social understanding very much the same.
Lastly,
May discusses the Types of Courage by breaking them down into four types:
1. Physical
Courage-Heroism and myths of survival and violence.
2. Moral
Courage-May defines this as an understanding that people are inherently
valuable apart from what they can do for society.
3. Perceptual
Courage-To see the suffering of others.
4. Social
Courage-The courage to relate to other human beings with an increasing
openness.
5. Creative
Courage-May believed that real art must not be a hobby, but “the creative
process must be explored” (p.67, May) and this exploration should lead to
self-actualization.
May
is correct to say that creative thoughts cannot be foreseen; they must emerge
spontaneously from the subconscious. This is both beneficial and harmful for an
artist because artists, like everyone else, have deadlines. Those deadlines
frequently fail to account for the time it takes the unconscious to provide new
inspirations.
I've
seen a link between genetics and creative skill. Musical talent runs in
families, and I've seen that creative talent does as well. For example, in my
own family, my brother and his kid both play the drums, I play guitar and
piano, and my father played the violin. Musicality, like painting, sculpture,
and sketching, may be learnt. If you have not inherited a creative talent, it
may be learned if you put in the effort and writing works in the same manner.
It is also something that can be learnt. However, I believe that the finest
artists show potential from an early age.
When
it comes to the question of why creation makes us happy, I can only think of one
reason: expressiveness. Writing helps me to express profound emotions through
poetry or book writing that I cannot express in ordinary interactions with
others. Unless you're among intellectuals, you don't sit around talking about
existential questions, philosophy, or profound sentiments in day-to-day common conversations. However, it is allowed when it is
written, drawn, painted, or sculpted. Art provides a medium through which I can
express myself deeply and meaningfully.
He defines
"unconscious" as "the potentialities for awareness or action
which the individual cannot or will not actualize" (p. 52), or "free
creativity." In May's account, the unconscious mind "broke through in
opposition to the conscious belief to which I was clinging" (p. 55). Carl
Jung believed in a dialectic relationship between the awareness and the unconscious
(p. 55). The unconscious, according to May, "delights in breaking through
and breaking up exactly what we cling to most rigidly" (p. 56). May says that when
we get unconscious insights, our consciousness is already working on addressing
a problem or inventing something new. "The idea, the new form that
suddenly becomes present," May writes, "came in order to complete an
incomplete Gestalt with which I was struggling in conscious awareness" (p.
59). May observes that these insights happen while we are relaxed and not
actively engaged on the problem.
May also suggests
that seclusion is required for creation (p. 64). "In order to receive
insights from our unconscious, we must be able to devote ourselves to
solitude" (p. 64). He claims that when an artist is actively influenced by
inspiration, it might appear to them as a spiritual experience (p. 66). He
claims that people "put tools and machines between themselves and the
unconscious world" (p.67), and I couldn't help but think of mobile phones
and email as examples. He observes that these technologies first serve as
defensive mechanisms against thinking. Such barriers, he claims, keep us from
experiencing the unconscious creation of poetry, music, and other forms of art
(p. 68). He goes on to claim that “Dogmatists of all kinds are threatened by
the creative freedom of the artist” (p. 74).
May suggests that
"creativity occurs in an encounter and is to be understood through this
encounter with its center" (p.77). He explains this by noting that to
"encounter" anything is to experience it in a way that is unique to
oneself. Finally, "out of the encounter is born the work of art" (p.
85). The experience gives birth to a new art form that he refers to as
"symbols and myths" (p. 87).
The degree of
passion or intensity to creative contribution is vital, and May believes that
younger university students lack passion and dedication (p. 88). Another factor
that all artists must deal with if they want to become productive is artist
anxiety (p. 93). I agree that if there is little or no disturbance in the artist's head, his art will have nothing to communicate. When he wrestles with questions, though, art is born. May refers to this "wrestling" as "passion." More specifically, I feel that this struggle is an attempt to disentangle and grasp reality. I'd put it this way: artists are on a quest for the ultimate truth. I say truth because that is what art is: a statement about the truth that lies underneath conscious layers of explanation. And it is for this reason, as May points out, that poets are revolutionaries. They are telling the truth. As a result, the political establishment does not value them. This wrestling, and the emotion it produces, results in the artist's distinct representation.
He changes gears and explores ancient Greece's
prophetic oracles, demonstrating how their "madness" was part of
their genius and how artists have been labeled as "mad." He asks,
"Does the artist need a touch of madness, what Plato called
"prophetic madness" (p. 113), to produce original, worthwhile
art?" My response to this question is that artists think differently than
accountants or mathematicians. Artists can conceive and perceive "outside
of the box." They may artistically communicate via works of art what
non-artists can only enjoy but cannot generate because of their non-linear,
unique way of perceiving the world.
Creativity
is the ability to see what isn't there. The creative sensation and urge must
emerge from the formally unconscious. The artist who has opened the door to the
subconscious may look "mad," or as the Greeks would have put it,
"inspired by the Gods." In this sense, as May implies, artists must
be touched by lunacy, which is simply the unconscious rising. However, studies
have shown that mental illnesses such as depression and bipolar disorder are
associated with higher levels of creative talent (Kay Redfield Jamison, 1996).
Some artists have a neurological peculiarity that predisposes them to
creativity. However, because many artists are not mentally ill, their artistic
troubles are caused by an ability to "tap into" or be more open to
unconscious creative instructions rather than by neurology.
Because I was a Gestalt Therapist, I took note of May's usage of the word
"Gestalt." It was his idea that the unconscious attempts to complete
the unfinished Gestalts in our lives, which of course it does; this is one of
the unconscious' fundamental goals. To me, this is a self-evident
assertion. I
believe that art is little more than a person's unconscious attempt to unite,
or make whole, that person's mind. Because it is our most powerful survival
strategy, the unconscious is always attempting to make us healthier and happier.
The conscious mind becomes disturbed and behaves in ways that are detrimental
to our health and well-being, but the unconscious mind will never push us towards the detrimental. Having said that, my experience has shown me that the unconscious is highly protective, and to those ends, it will support detrimental
behavior if it felt it would make us happier and protect us. Take the habit of smoking, for example. Although the conscious mind understands that smoking is unhealthy, the
unconscious will encourage the continuance of a bad habit since it soothes and
relaxes the smoker. The unconscious is infantile in this regard. While May
claims that the unconscious encourages Gestalt, what he doesn't say is that it can "love too
much" and may fail to understand that what pleases and pacifies us immediately may not
be the greatest thing for us in the long run. The unconscious is terribly short-sighted, the way a child is.
May starts his discussion
of boundaries and art with a bold statement: "Limits are not only
unavoidable in human life, but they are also valuable" (p. 116). He argues
that there would be no innovation if there was no battle against anything, no
resistance. The first constraint that he introduces is universal: death, a
physical limitation. Then he cites that another limitation we all face is the intellect
being determined by genetic and environmental constraints (p. 117).
In the world of
art, limits are merely a matter of form. Furthermore, "form provides the
essential boundaries and structure for the creative act" (p. 120).
Structure permits us to make meaning and draw order from form. As a result,
according to May, "On the one hand, when an individual insists on his or
her own subjectivity and follows exclusively his or her own imagination, we
have a person whose flights of fancy may be interesting but who never really
relates to the objective world" (p. 122). He distinguishes
two types of form: inward and outward, or internal and external. The defined
regulations that the art form demands are the exterior form, while the artist's
thoughts, views, and talents contribute spontaneously to the interior shape.
Formalism is another term for exterior form. May makes the point that
imagination transcends form: “Artists typically have powerful imaginations,”
(p.126).
In
general, I agree with May on the importance of form. We all have limitations; however,
these should not be viewed as a sign of weakness or failure, but rather as
phenomenological distinctions. Our bodies, brains, emotions, and behaviors are uniquely
ours. As a result, we should not feel embarrassed by our limits because they
give us a unique voice, and isn't that what artists, authors, and musicians are
applauded for--the uniqueness of their expression? Individuality at work is
what creativity is all about. Our constraints are distinctively ours, but at
the same time, they do not define us. A person can be a terrible
writer and still be a good person.
The
issue with form is that it is used for comparison. It is natural for us to
compare, but since we do, anyone who does not fit into the existing quo might
be labeled an outsider or a misfit and become a target for exclusion. When
someone's limits are seen as unacceptable, this is the dark side of form. Form
is undoubtedly "unavoidable," as May puts it, and provides us with
limits through which we may organize and make sense of the universe.
However,
creativity knows no bounds; therefore, artists are the keepers of
boundlessness. What I mean is, the artist has limitations, and structure in
which to work. At the same time, it is his responsibility to rise beyond the
banal, to create something that challenges limits. When an artist
deviates from the conventions and interprets his surroundings in a novel way,
he achieves originality. It is a challenge that the artist faces every time he
decides to create. How original am I going to allow myself to be? I believe
this is what May meant when he said that all artists experience creative
"anxiety."
Art critics prefer formulas because they
make assessing and analyzing art much simpler, which is why formulae are taught in schools (p. 93). He expands on his thesis, which may be called Art Development, or the
process by which art evolves. According to him, "works of the mind exist
only in action" (p.98). In other words, no one can claim intellectual
property unless there is a visible, tangible embodiment of it, at the very
least a prototype. In my perspective, art can only be assessed by its output. For
example, words like Coca-Cola's "It's the real thing" have stuck with
me since I first heard it performed by a choir and repeatedly replayed on
television until it became associated with the product. Thoughts that become
slogans must be linked to a physical object, such as the iconic Coca-Cola logo
and curving glass bottle, otherwise the phrase loses its meaning. We need
labels to identify Coca-Cola from other brands, else we can't tell them apart.
Applying
this concept to art, the term "abstract" implies nothing in and of
itself; it must be wedded to a piece of art, such as Dali's Surrealist
representations before we can identify art which resembles his abstractions.
Dali's pictures and sculptures do not make sense to the logical mind until we
realize they are abstractions of reality, at which point we may embrace them. Further,
they have no practical relevance in the realm of art until an art critic labels
a piece this or that. Our minds require practical monikers to interpret what
they perceive and make judgements. While labels may be unpleasant because they
categorize and therefore restrict, the logical mind requires classifications,
and hence, like a necessary evil, we must use form to classify.
Works Cited
Ernest
Becker. The Denial of Death. Free Press. 1973.
Rollo
May. The Courage to Create. Norton & Co., NY. 1975.
