In one of my recent newsletters I expressed my love and deep appreciation of Nick Cave's responses to mails and letters he receives from fans. His profound wisdom shared through his Red Hand Files are ever inspiring, not necessarily because I always agree, but because they usually provoke a thought.
His poignant response to the notion of the elusive muse in his last letter particularly struck a chord within me, resonating deeply with my own journey as an artist and photographer. His rejection of the common lament of artists "the muses have left me." as a justification for not creating, particularly in times of global crisis, challenged me to reconsider the essence of artistic responsibility.
He claims: “We are artists and we labour in the service of others. It is not something we do only if and when we feel motivated – we create because it is our responsibility to do so. In this respect our occupation is no different than that of most people. Does an ordinary adult go to work only if they feel in the mood? Do doctors? Do labourers? Do teachers? Do taxi drivers? We are duty-bound to do our job, like everyone else, because the space we occupy depends upon our participation and breaks down if we don’t. A committed artist cannot afford the luxury of revelation. Inspiration is the indolent indulgence of the dabbler. Muses … are for losers!”.
Now that is a statement! Thank you so much for that, Nick! He really puts into perspective what our creations bring not only to us, but to others who find joy in it. “If we are to call ourselves artists then we must avoid the myriad excuses that present themselves and do our job.” he continues, explaining how as artists we are entrusted with a unique role in society —a role that extends beyond mere self-expression to a profound duty of service to others. Cave eloquently articulates this principle, asserting that our commitment to creation is more than mere self-expression and exceeds fleeting inspiration. Instead he sees it rooted in a steadfast obligation to enrich the lives of those around us. He dismisses the notion of waiting for inspiration to strike, instead he emphasizes that artists should labor diligently in the service of their craft, regardless of external circumstances.
I am like many other artists: I thrive for self-expression drawn from intrinsic motivation. If there was no audience, I would still create, simply because I feel the innate drive to do so. I take my inner voices as the main, at best my only, guidance. This approach, as good as it is in order to create meaningful, personal work, only goes so far. Cave's words serve as a reminder of the broader significance of our creative endeavors. I usually shy away from saying “this does mean anything to anyone else but me”, as is the case for many artists. Claiming broader meaning for one´s own work feels like bragging, like attention grabbing in the glow of self-validation. (The truth is to a certain degree you even need to do just that as a professional artist. Like it or not.) But I believe this is not what Nick meant in his letter (you should read the entire answer).
It is not about showcasing oneself, it is about recognizing the transformative potential of art to illuminate the human experience and even provide solace in times of darkness. If we who create understand our work as an offer to the few people who care, we acknowledge the delicate balance between internal fulfillment and external impact, ultimately introducing even more meaning to our work. I believe this is a fascinating aspect of art. And truly so, because I know how art can touch me so deeply and even drive me to tears. So much, that I feel not only touched but warmly taken care of. Understood even. I am thankful when artists provide me with such profound feelings and emotions.
I recall when a fan wrote me a long time ago. He expressed how he could not stop listening to a song I wrote with my band Sonic Front, because it helped him deal with the brutal murdering of his beloved sister. And I remember with deep gratitude when people reached out to me and thanked for sparking inspiration or providing a glimmer of hope in times of despair. These encounters serve as poignant reminders of the inherent power of creativity to transcend barriers and forge meaningful connections across diverse backgrounds and experiences. I am humbled by such profound connections through the shared experience of art. The knowledge that my work has the capacity to resonate with others, to offer comfort amidst chaos, is a privilege I do not take lightly. If you paint, write, sing, photograph or whatever and ever had people thank you for enriching their lives, you will understand.
In essence, Nick's message transcends the realm of artistic practice. It encompasses a broader philosophy of empathy and compassion. It calls upon us, as creators, to embrace our privileged role - not by lamenting the absence of inspiration (I have been guilty of this myself in the past) or acting self-centred, but as stewards of collective sharing and understanding. And this is not about compromising our art and what or how we express. It is about providing deeper meaning and a profound connection, not just with ourselves.
I believe this serves as a great reminder on our ever-evolving creative journey. Especially in tumultuous times art endures as a beacon of light. While we discover the joys and richness of ourselves through self-expression, let’s not forget about the transformative potential of art to touch the hearts and minds of those around us.
Nick Cave also had another underlying clear message in his letter: stop whining and get your shit together! While things are hardly ever easy, nor simple or black and white, a little kick in the own butt sometimes is a good idea, to simply get going. With that; let´s go and create.