Regular readers of this blog might remember that on several occasions I have shared thoughts about the balance of “inspiration or perspiration” as the more important factor driving creative work. I have tended rather to be cautious about what I have always seen as the over-valuation of inspiration, and the notion that artists are somehow the privileged custodians of some kind of “divine spark” setting us off from ordinary mortals.
This inclination was reenforced recently by my reading of Andrew Graham-Dixon’s excellent biography of Caravaggio. I was really struck by the fact that Caravaggio doesn’t seem (as far as one can tell) to have ever produced a painting simply because he was moved by a bright idea. He painted in response to commissions. Now, of course it is possible that his patrons might have taken the line, “I would like to have a painting by you, and would welcome your suggestion of a good subject.” Even where his patrons clearly initiated the subject of a commission, it is likely that Caravaggio will have produced his own idea of exactly how it might be handled. Clearly, however, he was a highly disciplined craftsman, who was able to respond to the requirements of his patrons. “Inspiration” there might have been, but there is no doubt that “perspiration” (in terms off sustained, disciplined effort) had a very large part indeed to play in shaping his career.
Despite my inclinations in this direction I was given pause for thought the other night. In recent weeks I have been distinctly lacking on both “inspiration” and “perspiration” as the drivers of creative artistic work. I have been sidelined into a large writing task, and questions of domestic organisation, which have come to occupy my mind entirely. The question that has dominated my thoughts for some time has been how and in what direction I might get started again. On Monday evening, however, my wife and I attended the opening of a small local exhibition to which I had sent a couple of pieces. We were milling about in the usual way, alternating between looking at the pictures and talking with friends and acquaintances. Suddenly my wife came up to me and asked, “Are you having a moment?” Actually, I was.
What she has come to recognise is the expression on my face that gives away the fact that I am somehow engaged with creative thoughts. (Of course, I have no idea exactly what this looks like, as it doesn’t happen when I look in a mirror, and nobody has yet caught it on camera.) I am surprised both by the fact that my inner life is displayed so evidently on my face, and also that she has the acuity to recognise what is going on.
The thing that had caught my imagination was one of the pieces in the show, by an artist I know fairly well. Certainly I would not wish to copy her idea or an thing like that, but it did raise in my mind a question, to which the answer would have to take a visual form. (The sentiment on my face might well have been one of sheer relief that I had any creative thoughts at all.) Since then I have been mulling over the possibilities latent in this image, and checking on a couple of reference ideas. I have to say, however, that the “moment” about which my wife enquired can only be interpreted as one of inspiration.