It is interesting to note that in the interview (also see supplement 3:  Response on interview questions), students that create on their own (composition, design) tend to hesitate allowing the audience to have an effect on their work. They fear that pleasing the audience means loosing the connection to themselves.

I was surprised with the response of a student composition during the interview (see supplement 3: Response on interview questions),while discussing being connected to the audience: ‘I have it more with the musicians I compose for. We create together, I use their specific sound’.

Last year a student at art school did an interesting graduation project: A plea for applied collaboration (Hylkema 2018), which promoted collaboration between artists and was a result of collaboration as well (I took part in it myself).

One of the interviewees from art school (see supplement 3: Response on interview questionsmentioned: ‘My work leans a little bit more towards the need for interpretation rather than a direct message’.

One of the students from art school (see supplement 3: Response on interview questionsmentioned during the interview: ‘When I am truly motivated and passionate about a project it is most likely because it is a very personal project’.

‘Collaboration drives creativity because innovation always emerges from a series of sparks – never a single flash of insight’ (Sawyer 2007). As the title of his book ‘Group genius’ suggests, Keith Sawyer claims creativity is always collaborative.

In a lecture as part of a seminar at the Royal Conservatoire of The Hague (November 4th 2017) teacher Susan Williams presented the outcome of two questions, asked at the first year students during her sessions in the First Year Festival:

· Why do you play music? Most students responded: to feel
  connected, to feel good.
 

· Why do you go to a concert? Most students responded: to feel

  something, to be moved, to feel connection.

 

‘Something very special occurs when two or more living beings meet and begin to respond to each other (more happens than when merely having an impact on one another) … there is the creation … of quantitatively new quite novel and distinct forms of life … which are more than merely averaged and mixed chiasmically structured forms of dynamic unfolding’ (Shotter 2010, p. 2-3).

'The essence of performance is that the audience and the performer make the piece together.’ (Abramovic 2016, p. 71).

‘The work of art reaches its viewer and invites him to take up the gesture, which created it’ (Merleau Ponty 2007, p. 252).

One of the performing musicians during the interview (see supplement 3: Response on interview questionsresponded: ‘it’s not about expressing my emotions directly, I perform as a character’.

‘The person who understands must not reject the possibility of changing or even abandoning his already prepared viewpoint and positions. In the act of understanding a struggle occurs that results in mutual change and enrichment’ (Bakhtin 1986, p. 142).

Chapter 3.1

 

Art and dialogue 

 

The title of the book ‘Conversation, how talk can change our lives’ of Theodore Zeldin (1998) suggests what a conversation can do to a person, referring to dialogue. With some fantasy this could be applied to the experience of visiting a concert, where music can change our lives (or a museum, performance, book, etc.). An artwork needs you to be seen. It invites you in but it also might introduce something new that can change you. Some people describe this experience even as ‘changing them profoundly as if they are born again’ (Leibovici 2009, p. 18). If we view art from a dialogical perspective, does it - like discussed before - presume a specific type of connecting? To try and give an answer on this question I would like to present three ways in which dialogue could be considered to play a role in art: art/creativity as something that happens between people; addressing the listener/viewer; and the active role of the listener/viewer.

 

3.1.1 Art/creativity as something that happens between people


Of course there are many ways to describe creativity. From the perspective I chose it seems interesting to see creativity as a meeting of two realities, bringing together two (or more) mental elements to form a new useful combination. This again leads back to the ideas of Buber (also see 2.1.1: Connecting and identity), who claims that without real dialogue there is no creativity (Buber, in Perlina 1984, p. 17). Gert Biesta (2015, p. 12) thinks we should see the process of creating or performing ‘not in strong metaphysical terms but in weaker existentialist terms, in terms of encounters and events. Both views make us observe the difference in considering creativity as a result of accepting the risk of allowing the other in with all its uncertainty; unpredictability and frustration that goes along with it, or staying with the certainty of keeping control by relying on one’s own (creative) power.

According to Hargrave & Pfitzer (2003, p. 85), a relationship can be considered as being more than the sum of its individuals. This is an interesting concept when applied to musicians and dancers, since their connection enables them to produce something that is not possible on their own. They know what it means to create a whole that is more than the sum of its parts, by connecting in a dialogic way during a performance with their fellow musicians/dance partners. Music performed in ensembles is created jointly, which might be the reason so many people like to sing in choirs. According to Richard Sennett (2012) musicians in rehearsal need to interact, to exchange for mutual benefit. ‘Though they may know their own part perfectly, in rehearsal they have to learn the ego-busting art of listening, turning outward’ (p. 14).

From a larger perspective the process of creative thinking as a result of being part of something bigger could found in being part of a movement; living in an inspiring environment or a specific era. Pointillism became an inspiration for many artists turning it into a school. Many artists mention cities as being inspiring for their work (Lehrer 2012, p. 195) and in the past, cities like Vienna; Paris; New York; etc. were birthplaces of new developments and even schools.

 

Jazz musicians are aware of the fact that improvising means they should be able to deal with a situation where they allow their fellow musicians to have an effect on what they are doing, while staying connected to themselves. This requires a complex interplay, in which they need what was described before as empathy and being able to take the risk of being vulnerable. Suddenly the licks they practiced might not work in the new context. They have to accept that the reality of the other will affect their own. By doing that they create new meanings, a whole that’s more than the sum of its parts. This is what improvising is all about.

Improvising - or maybe playing with another person in general - is the concept of different perspectives meeting each other, creating something new, with the risk of loosing yourself. The reflection necessary in this type of situations is what Donald Schön (1983, p. 68) characterizes as reflection in action, a non-verbal way of reflecting that leads to adjusting one’s behaviour without stopping the action, like dance partners. 

 

Despite collaboration in music ensembles, Western society also tends to prefer traditions in performing like ‘to play the first violin’ (Sennett 2012, p. 14). Western music knows the phenomenon of the conductor. In African cultures, or traditions of playing derived from African traditions like Cuban Salsa, musicians restrict themselves to playing the ‘clave’ (rhythmical pattern) all night and enjoy their contribution to the end result. Besides performance in music, collaboration in theatre or opera, artworks that are created (composed) through direct dialogue with several artists are not that common. At least they are not presented that way. We seem to favour the concept of the sole creator (Deneer & van Zelm 2014, p. 12), the genius who gets all the credits.

 

Recent developments might change the concept of the sole creator; especially new technologies offer many opportunities for collaboration.

 

3.1.2 Addressing the listener/viewer


Another dialogical aspect in art is the fact that the artwork is addressing someone (Bakhtin 1986, p. 95). Even without performing his work, the imagined other might still be in the mind of an artist who withdraws from his public or works on his own in his studio (also see 1.1.3: Inner dialogue). He keeps the viewer/listener in mind.

 

For performing musicians it seems to help if their playing is aimed at someone, their audience or their fellow musicians. Many Jazz musicians mention the fact that they play better in front of a life audience than in a recording studio. Singers are very aware of the fact that they address the audience (also see supplement 3: Response on interview questions), almost like an actor. The example of singers also brings to mind the importance of addressing the other while staying connected to yourself; if not this directly appears in their voice. Singing teachers often stress the importance of being authentic and not trying to please (or impress) the audience while performing.

 

According to Stephen Davies (1994) an actor is not expressing his feelings when addressing his audience, presenting emotions; the emotions should be considered an expression of the feelings in the theatre play.

Davies thinks what goes for actors also goes for composers. He considers the composition to be a tertiary expression of the emotions of the composer (p. 176). This needs some explanation. Tears could be considered a primary expression of someone’s emotions; they occur unintentionally and unreflectively. In a secondary version emotions are expressed through something, rather than in something. Angriness could be expressed through playing loudly. There is a similarity in the secondary expression of emotions and what was described earlier as acting out; the emotion needs to be decoded (also see 2.2.1: Scripts in an object position) and it might not meant to be dialogical. The tertiary way of expressing emotions relies on the use of conventions and rituals. This means you have to get familiar with them first. Another prerequisite for using conventions and rituals is that in order to use them for an artistic purpose - according to Davies -, the expressions have to be intentional and sincere. This requires reflection. He warns that ‘because the established conventions can be used insincerely, they can be employed to lie, to stretch the truth, for ironic effect, and so on’ (p. 177). The expression could loose its trustworthiness and the audience could feel being an object in the needs of the artist (also see 3.4: Art and mental health).

 

3.1.3 Active role of the listener/viewer


A third dialogical aspect in art is the active role of the listener/viewer. Mikhail Bakhtin refers to this as answerability. ‘The work of art, like a rejoinder, seeks a response from others; it seeks their active comprehension’ (Bakthin, in Perlina 1984, p. 18). Even if a work of art is not a direct expression of the emotions of the artist, it reveals the artistic intentions of the maker, concerning desires, beliefs, emotions, commitments and wishes. However, these intentions are not transposed directly onto the viewer/listener (Davies 1994, p. 272; Wollheim 1987, pp. 36-40). Art is not information directly transmitted to the receiver (also see 2.1.1: Dialogue and reciprocity); it is not an announcement.

Art as an utterance provokes utterances. Consequently the response of the listener/ viewer is not completely in the hands of the creator. In performing arts this seems to be more obvious. The audience can respond or there could be a direct interaction with the audience. Performance artist Marina Abramovic plays with this aspect in her performances, seeking an active response from her audience.

The active role of the audience however also puts the performer in a vulnerable position. As mentioned before, he does not have complete control over the situation. He cannot control the type of response he gets from the audience or his fellow musicians, but also there is no complete control if the response he gets from his audience is solely a result of his actions.

Davies (1994) claims the audience does not necessarily require knowledge of the artist’s intentions to be able to appreciate the work’s expressiveness. ‘It is because music can express sadness that composers sometimes write such music in expressing their sadness; it is because music can express sadness that it sometimes leads us to feel sadness as listeners’ (p. 199). This suggests expressiveness is in the piece of art itself, inviting us to connect and to connect to ourselves. This requires something from us as composers/performers but also from us as viewers/listeners namely inner dialogue, the focus of the next paragraph.

Therefore he cannot just say ‘this is it, take it or leave it’. This partly explains why things like performance anxiety exist and why it could be traced back to someone’s script about connecting.

 

For many artists it seems to matter that their work is personal.

<                >

 

Casus Jazz singing female 25

 

  • My recital is coming near and I’m procrastinating. What do they expect?

 

  • I’m doing the Master but I feel I still cannot improvise. All my friends and family are into Jazz and they will come to my recital. I’m afraid having to face them.

 

 

Casus viola da gamba female 24

 

  • I have a hard time dealing with my ensemble. I find it difficult to take initiative.
     
  • I tend to be stubborn and blame the other members for not taking my needs into account. I’m impatient and tend to isolate myself. I should be able to solve things myself.

  • I want acceptance to come from myself but I also care a lot about what other people think. When I was younger I needed to be the best.

 

 

Chapter 3.1

 

Art and dialogue 

 

The title of the book ‘Conversation, how talk can change our lives’ of Theodore Zeldin (1998) suggests what a conversation can do to a person, referring to dialogue. With some fantasy this could be applied to the experience of visiting a concert, where music can change our lives (or a museum, performance, book, etc.). An artwork needs you to be seen. It invites you in but it also might introduce something new that can change you. Some people describe this experience even as ‘changing them profoundly as if they are born again’ (Leibovici 2009, p. 18). If we view art from a dialogical perspective, does it - like discussed before - presume a specific type of connecting? To try and give an answer on this question I would like to present three ways in which dialogue could be considered to play a role in art: art/creativity as something that happens between people; addressing the listener/viewer; and the active role of the listener/viewer.

 

3.1.1 Art/creativity as something that happens between people


Of course there are many ways to describe creativity. From the perspective I chose it seems interesting to see creativity as a meeting of two realities, bringing together two (or more) mental elements to form a new useful combination. This again leads back to the ideas of Buber (also see 2.1.1: Connecting and identity), who claims that without real dialogue there is no creativity (Buber, in Perlina 1984, p. 17). Gert Biesta (2015, p. 12) thinks we should see the process of creating or performing ‘not in strong metaphysical terms but in weaker existentialist terms, in terms of encounters and events. Both views make us observe the difference in considering creativity as a result of accepting the risk of allowing the other in with all its uncertainty; unpredictability and frustration that goes along with it, or staying with the certainty of keeping control by relying on one’s own (creative) power.

 






According to Hargrave & Pfitzer (2003, p. 85), a relationship can be considered as being more than the sum of its individuals. This is an interesting concept when applied to musicians and dancers, since their connection enables them to produce something that is not possible on their own. They know what it means to create a whole that is more than the sum of its parts, by connecting in a dialogic way during a performance with their fellow musicians/dance partners. Music performed in ensembles is created jointly, which might be the reason so many people like to sing in choirs. According to Richard Sennett (2012) musicians in rehearsal need to interact, to exchange for mutual benefit. ‘Though they may know their own part perfectly, in rehearsal they have to learn the ego-busting art of listening, turning outward’ (p. 14).

 


 









From a larger perspective the process of creative thinking as a result of being part of something bigger could found in being part of a movement; living in an inspiring environment or a specific era. Pointillism became an inspiration for many artists turning it into a school. Many artists mention cities as being inspiring for their work (Lehrer 2012, p. 195) and in the past, cities like Vienna; Paris; New York; etc. were birthplaces of new developments and even schools.

 

Jazz musicians are aware of the fact that improvising means they should be able to deal with a situation where they allow their fellow musicians to have an effect on what they are doing, while staying connected to themselves. This requires a complex interplay, in which they need what was described before as empathy and being able to take the risk of being vulnerable. Suddenly the licks they practiced might not work in the new context. They have to accept that the reality of the other will affect their own. By doing that they create new meanings, a whole that’s more than the sum of its parts. This is what improvising is all about.

 









Improvising - or maybe playing with another person in general - is the concept of different perspectives meeting each other, creating something new, with the risk of loosing yourself. The reflection necessary in this type of situations is what Donald Schön (1983, p. 68) characterizes as reflection in action, a non-verbal way of reflecting that leads to adjusting one’s behaviour without stopping the action, like dance partners. 

 

Despite collaboration in music ensembles, Western society also tends to prefer traditions in performing like ‘to play the first violin’ (Sennett 2012, p. 14). Western music knows the phenomenon of the conductor. In African cultures, or traditions of playing derived from African traditions like Cuban Salsa, musicians restrict themselves to playing the ‘clave’ (rhythmical pattern) all night and enjoy their contribution to the end result. Besides performance in music, collaboration in theatre or opera, artworks that are created (composed) through direct dialogue with several artists are not that common. At least they are not presented that way. We seem to favour the concept of the sole creator (Deneer & van Zelm 2014, p. 12), the genius who gets all the credits.

 













Recent developments might change the concept of the sole creator; especially new technologies offer many opportunities for collaboration.

 

3.1.2 Addressing the listener/viewer


Another dialogical aspect in art is the fact that the artwork is addressing someone (Bakhtin 1986, p. 95). Even without performing his work, the imagined other might still be in the mind of an artist who withdraws from his public or works on his own in his studio (also see 1.1.3: Inner dialogue). He keeps the viewer/listener in mind.

 



 








For performing musicians it seems to help if their playing is aimed at someone, their audience or their fellow musicians. Many Jazz musicians mention the fact that they play better in front of a life audience than in a recording studio. Singers are very aware of the fact that they address the audience (also see supplement 3: Response on interview questions), almost like an actor. The example of singers also brings to mind the importance of addressing the other while staying connected to yourself; if not this directly appears in their voice. Singing teachers often stress the importance of being authentic and not trying to please (or impress) the audience while performing.

 

According to Stephen Davies (1994) an actor is not expressing his feelings when addressing his audience, presenting emotions; the emotions should be considered an expression of the feelings in the theatre play.

 






Davies thinks what goes for actors also goes for composers. He considers the composition to be a tertiary expression of the emotions of the composer (p. 176). This needs some explanation. Tears could be considered a primary expression of someone’s emotions; they occur unintentionally and unreflectively. In a secondary version emotions are expressed through something, rather than in something. Angriness could be expressed through playing loudly. There is a similarity in the secondary expression of emotions and what was described earlier as acting out; the emotion needs to be decoded (also see 2.2.1: Scripts in an object position) and it might not meant to be dialogical. The tertiary way of expressing emotions relies on the use of conventions and rituals. This means you have to get familiar with them first. Another prerequisite for using conventions and rituals is that in order to use them for an artistic purpose - according to Davies -, the expressions have to be intentional and sincere. This requires reflection. He warns that ‘because the established conventions can be used insincerely, they can be employed to lie, to stretch the truth, for ironic effect, and so on’ (p. 177). The expression could loose its trustworthiness and the audience could feel being an object in the needs of the artist (also see 3.4: Art and mental health).

 

3.1.3 Active role of the listener/viewer


A third dialogical aspect in art is the active role of the listener/viewer. Mikhail Bakhtin refers to this as answerability. ‘The work of art, like a rejoinder, seeks a response from others; it seeks their active comprehension’ (Bakthin, in Perlina 1984, p. 18). Even if a work of art is not a direct expression of the emotions of the artist, it reveals the artistic intentions of the maker, concerning desires, beliefs, emotions, commitments and wishes. However, these intentions are not transposed directly onto the viewer/listener (Davies 1994, p. 272; Wollheim 1987, pp. 36-40). Art is not information directly transmitted to the receiver (also see 2.1.1: Dialogue and reciprocity); it is not an announcement.

 



 


Art as an utterance provokes utterances. Consequently the response of the listener/ viewer is not completely in the hands of the creator. In performing arts this seems to be more obvious. The audience can respond or there could be a direct interaction with the audience. Performance artist Marina Abramovic plays with this aspect in her performances, seeking an active response from her audience.

 




The active role of the audience however also puts the performer in a vulnerable position. As mentioned before, he does not have complete control over the situation. He cannot control the type of response he gets from the audience or his fellow musicians, but also there is no complete control if the response he gets from his audience is solely a result of his actions.

 






Therefore he cannot just say ‘this is it, take it or leave it’. This partly explains why things like performance anxiety exist and why it could be traced back to someone’s script about connecting.

 

For many artists it seems to matter that their work is personal.

 







Davies (1994) claims the audience does not necessarily require knowledge of the artist’s intentions to be able to appreciate the work’s expressiveness. ‘It is because music can express sadness that composers sometimes write such music in expressing their sadness; it is because music can express sadness that it sometimes leads us to feel sadness as listeners’ (p. 199). This suggests expressiveness is in the piece of art itself, inviting us to connect and to connect to ourselves. This requires something from us as composers/performers but also from us as viewers/listeners namely inner dialogue, the focus of the next paragraph.