That title might confuse many. But what I mean by this is….
When it comes to theatre, music, film, if the meaning of a piece is handed to me on a silver platter, I’ll be left to pick at my food in disappointment. There is a richness that comes with your subconsciousness deriving meaning from a piece, even if it’s not what the artist intended. This is why I’m drawn to absurdist, poetic, fantastical works. I want to consume media that has the blood, sweat and tears of an artist; with details that may seem small to an audience member, but act as huge, personal easter egg for artists themselves. If my art doesn’t act as a lens for you to glimpse into my soul for 60 minutes or less before leaving the theatre, I’ve done my job wrong.
But I didn’t always used to think like this. The question, “how do you want your art to affect your audiences?” was always a hard one for me to answer. Ultimately, I know in myself, I create work that first and foremost, affects me. If it doesn’t make ME feel something, how can I expect it to make someone else feel something? And for a while, I felt bad about this being my creative approach. Were all my creative endeavours merely attempts of make-shift therapy? It seemed immature to use my personal issues as inspiration and expect people to relate. So I stopped. I tried to make art that was more “commercial”, more palatable for all audiences… But this way of thinking made me fall into the trap of watering down the depth and poetic nature of my work because I was too concerned these aspects would would make my art too specific and confusing. I was serving my audiences a piece’s meaning on a silver platter, and I couldn’t understand why no one was eating my bland food.
A reality check finally hit me mid-last year, thankfully while I was still studying at a learning institution and not via the harsh words of unforgiving critiques. This pivotal moment was the grading of my first playwriting assignment ‘The Scissoring.’ Yes, it’s what it sounds like, it was a play centred around lesbianism and more specifically, compulsive heterosexuality. This was a queer story not too dissimilar from my own, with queer references, symbolism and experiences. So when I was sorted into a feedback group of purely straight, cis peers, the feedback I received was… not ideal.
“I didn’t understand it.”
“I thought the girls were best friends”
“You need to make it more obvious they are gay. The issues and experiences you included were too niche”
It was a venerable piece, and if I received this feedback now I’d know what to take with a grain of salt… but my insecurities at that time trumped my ability to stay true to who I was as an artist.
I passed. Barely. The feedback I got from my Mentor, someone part of the queer community themselves, in summary, read “Sarah, I loved your draft. What happened?” And those few words killed me. It was in that moment I promised myself to trust my artistic vision and if audiences don’t get it, it wasn’t made for them. This new way of thinking obviously had to evolve over time because, just like therapeutic theatre in general, there IS a line and I had to learn not to cross it. So, I wrote. I wrote, songs, plays, films; this time, unapologetically. AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW- People love venerable art! It has a soul! I have was delighted to find the more I opened up in my art, the more audiences related. Oh, how wrong I used to be…
While writing this manifesto, I also pondered, what classifies art as “too personal?”. Julian Burnside states, “every work of art carries part of our shared culture and that fact gives the work its true value” (Burnside, 2016). Therefore, I would argue all art is personal. While therapy theatre is as an extreme example of this, all art is subconsciously derived from an artist’s unconscious influences, including their personal experiences and emotions. Therefore, my question of whether I am a “selfish artist” is simple. I am
I know who I am as an artist now, and you know what? I don’t want my work to be palatable. I want it to be so full of flavour some people might need to spit it out. The best work is controversial, and that in itself is a controversial take, but I truly believe art is always political and I refused to water down my opinions, experiences and artistic vision anymore. Therapeutic art has a place in professional creative contexts and if doing that makes someone a “selfish artist”, then fine- but I believe a “selfish artist”, is a brave artist.
