Tuesday, February 6, 2018

That sounds a lot like....


After deliberating over this week’s topic and readings, I was reminded of the words of one of my mentors: “If you want to be great, study the greats. Watch them. If you want to act like ‘so-and-so’, watch and study ‘so-and-so.’ If you want to write like them, read their writings. If you want to make music like them, listen to their music.” His approach seems very simplistic, but it’s also fundamental. As babies our senses are constantly stimulated by what we see, hear, and feel. The information we take in from infancy about how to communicate quickly begins to be imitated – and we are rewarded for it. The more accurately we imitate, the more positive reinforcement we receive. I find it interesting that there is some murky, gray-colored phase of life where imitation ceases being “good” at the risk of being “fake” or “shallow.” What once garnered praise, suddenly receives ridicule.


It’s also interesting that while some reject mimicry, others are of the school of thought that, well beyond our formative years, imitation can actually be a positive platform for creativity. Aristotle suggests this in his Poetics. This led me to “mimic poems.” Mimic poems (or imitation poems as they are sometimes called) are poems that are written in the style of a particular poet. While not an imitation in the word-for-word sense, the original poet’s work is intently studied for meter, tone, and rhyme scheme. What results is poetry that is reminiscent of the original without being a true copy in the literary sense. Here are some examples:



Perhaps this “copying” of style is a happy medium between full-out plagiarism and originality. But one could also argue that inspiration must stem from somewhere so it is completely original. The original work sparked emotions and peaked consciousness in the artist – something that Auslander would agree distinguishes robotic performance (input=output) from true creative performance. Regardless of how clear it may seem that the artist is influenced by another work, those who practice mimic poetry typically site the work that prompted them.


Are these imitation poems better than the original? I would venture to say they are different and can be just as wonderful in their own right. If the artist is creating content from a true place, should it matter that their form is unoriginal? And what of the poetry that the artist will create in the future on account of having “practiced” the form of “greats?”


This brings me to the other thought I had when contemplating this week’s prompt, which I’ll say just a few words about. Painting With a Twist is a phenomenon that has taken this country by storm. All of a sudden anyone can be a painter! BUT, everyone in attendance is guided – step-by-step – to paint a replica of the same pre-determined painting. This is an example where the copy is often not superior to the original to the outside eye. Most people who sign-up are not professional artists. But if there is sentimental value tied to a "sub-par" painting, all of a sudden it is priceless. Originality just might be in the eye of the beholder.






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3 comments:

  1. "The more accurately we imitate, the more positive reinforcement we receive."

    The truth in that statement struck me. I remember reading or hearing somewhere, that in the pre-production of The Lion King, someone or other came forth and gave a rough sketch of what their idea of the plot was. After listening and little deliberation, someone in the room piped up and said "So, it's Hamlet". Immediately the room exhaled a sigh of relief and the meeting proceeded in an easier atmosphere. The relationship between the idea and something that already existed before, albeit in a different form, was enough to set the room at rest and gave them enough light to forge forward without groping helplessly in the dark.

    I see this happen all around me in a myriad of situations; a friend trying to describe Star Trek would say it is like Star Wars (although die-hards may vehemently deny this), someone describing The Divergent Trilogy would compare it to The Hunger Games, a pencil is compared to a pen, a girl is compared to a boy, and the world continues to make meaning by association.

    I think this is the biggest reward of mimicry; the understanding and acknowledgement by other people, and the relationship formed through that understanding. It is only when we share meaning that we can have any meaning at all. I also liked the observation you made concerning the consistency of form as opposed to content. I would argue however, that form and content have the potential to become inseparable, and that content is one of the defining factors of form.

    There are videos which teach people how to draw various objects and beings. Most of these begin with a simple diagram of a circle or rectangle or triangle, before evolving into a girl, or a lion, or a bowl of fruit. The primary shapes however, remain the same, and it is simply a rearranging of the basic instructions that enables the creation of multiple possibilities. The content of this form satisfies its requirements as a form; a set of agreed upon parameters in pursuit of an end goal. These parameters are the content via which the form becomes established.

    Subjectivity is doubtlessly important, and there is something unique about the creative potential of each individual. However, their creation may stand on a foundation that has supported multitudes before them.

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  2. "Steal Like An Artist" - one of my favorite coffee table books opens with two quotes:

    "Art is theft." Pablo Picasso
    &
    "Immature poets imitate;
    mature poets steals; bad
    poets deface what they take,
    and good poets make it into
    something better, or at least
    something different. The
    good poet welds his theft into
    a while of feeling which is
    unique, utterly different from
    that which it was torn." T.S. Eliot

    The Picasso quote is delightfully trite, especially coming from one of the more original painters in recent history. A man who arguably invented a whole new style of art. However it is Eliot's breakdown of what it is to steal like an artist (or poet rather) that really speaks to me. I suppose "borrowing" or "stealing" in this point of the game is inevitable. I heard a TED Radio Hour episode where music producer Mark Ronson discussed how it's really not possible to create a new sound anymore because all of the music composition and chord progressions have manifested themselves in one way or another. So musicians are tasked with reinventing old sounds so that they are almost unrecognizable yet not completely destroying what has already been created. I think Eliot nails it when he talks about the evolution of "theft" into something completely new (and yet not new). You write about inspiration and I am curious if in our discussions of imitations and new creations where "inspiration" fits into the mix. Is it merely a facet of the evolution process of art, or can it possibly exist in its own realm...

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  3. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.” – Oscar Wilde
    Osi, your offering resonated with me: “If you want to be great, study the greats.” I heard of stealing a great bit or idea in theatre as a great compliment, to use another actor’s idea as your own. I lost my original post when I stepped away and hadn’t adequately saved it. This will be my attempt at imitating my original and adding new ideas as they come up, not unlike (in some ways) what we are discussing with imitation and simulation this week. I hadn’t thought about considering poets that write in the style of a famous poet as being something to consider, but I’m glad to be given this to ponder. Before I had read the rest of your post about painting parties, I was already thinking about how, in a beginning art class it is common to focus on replicating a famous artist’s painting for various reasons. Perhaps it is for the sake of gaining appreciation for the difficulty of the artist’s handiwork and process but also imitating the style with the hope of such beginners to gain the ability to apply that style to other paintings of their own.

    At this point I read a couple of the responses to your post and was struck by how many things also resonated as a result of your original response. I was given an assignment in college where one of our options was to add an additional scene to Hamlet. (Funny I thought of this before reading Sarah’s post about Hamlet, though I also knew about this instance and loved that she included it!) I considered that Ophelia’s story really hadn’t been fully examined, fleshed out, and shared. I chose to add a scene, giving one possibility of perspective on all of the shenanigans she was dealing with that could have caused her to go mad. It was exhilarating to have a go at writing in the style of good old “Willy” himself. I recall some parts coming more easily than I had originally thought it would be, simply because I had a model for which to emulate and compare, in order to revise and improve.

    This led me to think about portraits by famous artists that are being used in a new digital google arts and culture app. This app takes a common face and matches it to a famous portrait with a percentage of accuracy reading. https://www.blog.google/topics/arts-culture/exploring-art-through-selfies-google-arts-culture/

    Regardless of my opinion, it can be argued either way that the original, simulation, imitation, or reinvention of the original could be given more value, depending on the audience.

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