TUMBLR

A scrapbook of stuff I'm reading / looking at / listening to / thinking about...



Posts tagged "constraint"

Feb 21, 2013
Permalink
Wire’s rules of negative self-definition

From Wilson Neate’s 33 1/3 book, on Wire’s Pink Flag:


  Wire’s aesthetic was built on subtraction, a consistent withdrawal of superfluous elements. “The reduction of ideas, the reduction of things down to the minimal framework—it just seemed completely natural,” explains Colin Newman. “By closing down possibilities, you very often open up possibilities. You have infinite possibilities of simplicity and subtlety within a frame.” Natural minimalists, Wire pursued a negative sensibility, defining themselves in terms of what they were not…
  
  “The only things we could agree on were the things we didn’t like,” observes Bruce Gilbert. “That’s what held it together and made life much simpler.” Recalling some unofficial Wire rules, Graham Lewis summarizes this negative self-definition: “No solos; no decoration; when the words run out, it stops; we don’t chorus out; no rocking out; keep it to the point; no Americanisms.”

Wire’s rules of negative self-definition

From Wilson Neate’s 33 1/3 book, on Wire’s Pink Flag:

Wire’s aesthetic was built on subtraction, a consistent withdrawal of superfluous elements. “The reduction of ideas, the reduction of things down to the minimal framework—it just seemed completely natural,” explains Colin Newman. “By closing down possibilities, you very often open up possibilities. You have infinite possibilities of simplicity and subtlety within a frame.” Natural minimalists, Wire pursued a negative sensibility, defining themselves in terms of what they were not

“The only things we could agree on were the things we didn’t like,” observes Bruce Gilbert. “That’s what held it together and made life much simpler.” Recalling some unofficial Wire rules, Graham Lewis summarizes this negative self-definition: “No solos; no decoration; when the words run out, it stops; we don’t chorus out; no rocking out; keep it to the point; no Americanisms.”

(via postpunk)

Aug 13, 2012
Permalink
The trouble begins with a design philosophy that equates “more options” with “greater freedom.” Designers struggle endlessly with a problem that is almost nonexistent for users: “How do we pack the maximum number of options into the minimum space and price?” In my experience, the instruments and tools that endure (because they are loved by their users) have limited options.
— Brian Eno, “The Revenge of the Intuitive,” (13 years ago!)

Jul 29, 2012
Permalink

When ineptitude leads to originality…

In this epic New Yorker profile of Bruce Springsteen, E Street guitarist Steve Van Zandt remembers recognizing Springsteen’s “drive to create original work”:

In those days, he said, you were judged by how well you could copy songs off the radio and play them, chord for chord, note for note: “Bruce was never good at it. He had a weird ear. He would hear different chords, but he could never hear the right chords. When you have that ability or inability, you immediately become more original.”

It’s a fun idea — a shortcoming (his “weird ear”) leads to the signature work… but Springsteen is also a terrific thief. A great demonstration of this was in his SXSW keynote, when he said, “ Listen up youngsters: this is how successful theft is accomplished,” and proceeded to sign and strum the beginning of The Animals “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood,” then transposing it into the main line in “Badlands.” “It’s the same fucking riff, man!”

Jul 18, 2012
Permalink

Jack White on inspiration vs. constraint

In this clip from the 2010 documentary Under Great White Northern Lights, Jack White talks about the “secret” of the White Stripes:

Telling yourself you have all the time in the world, all the money in the world, all the colors in the palette, anything you want — that just kills creativity.

You might recognize this quote from chapter 10 of Steal Like An Artist.

(Thx, @wcraghead!)

May 20, 2012
Permalink

On Regina Spektor’s “gift of small hands”

There’s a piece in the NYTimes today about how Spektor’s “shortcomings as a classical pianist turned her into a songwriter.” Spektor has very small hands, and while studying classical piano, “scores had to be rearranged, her left hand taking on part of the role of the left.” After a while, it became clear that “the life she expected was perhaps not so attainable.” So she quit classical piano, but sat at the piano and wrote songs instead.

Adding Spektor’s story to my list of artists with physical shortcomings that led to their signature work:

  • Art Spiegelman has amblyopia, or “lazy eye,” which flattens depth perception. He says he suspects it’s one of the reasons he’s a cartoonist—because the world looks flat to him

  • The guitarist Django Reinhardt lost the use of 2 of his fretting fingers, and played all of his solos with two fingers

  • Tommy Iommi, guitar player for Black Sabbath, after he lost fingertips in an industrial accident, was inspired by Django, and formed homemade prosthetics, and detuned his guitars down to C#, so there was less tension on the strings. This detuning is part of what makes Sabbath’s guitars sound so heavy, and thus we have heavy metal…

  • Henri Matisse’s failing eyesight and health led him to make his “cut-out” paper collages

  • Chuck Close, along with his paralysis, “suffers from Prosopagnosia, also known as face blindness, in which he is unable to recognize faces.” And yet, he’s most famous for his face paintings, which help him remember faces.

I’m always on the lookout for more examples — let me know if you have any?

Feb 11, 2012
Permalink
Constraint → creation

A screengrab from Kate Bingaman-Burt’s Creative Mornings lecture. (via)

Constraint → creation

A screengrab from Kate Bingaman-Burt’s Creative Mornings lecture. (via)

Feb 10, 2012
Permalink
Limitations are really good for you. They are a stimulant. If you were told to make a drawing of a tulip using five lines, or one using a hundred, you’d be more inventive with the five.

Jan 02, 2012
Permalink
Stanley Fish, How to Write a Sentence: And How to Read One

Louis Menand, writing about Donald Barthelme: “The visual artist can deal with almost every kind of material, even sound, but the writer deals with only one kind of material: sentences.”

Fish’s approach is the same: sentences are the writer’s material, and if we pay close attention to the sentences of other writers, if we analyze them and imitate them, we will see that sentences are just different forms that we can plug our own content into:


  Form, form, form, and only form is the road to what the classical theorists called “invention,” the art of coming up with something to say….[You can use forms] not simply to arrange thoughts but also to create thoughts. Creativity is often contrasted with forms to the latter’s detriment, but the thrush is that forms are the engines of creativity….This then, is my theology: You shall tie yourself to forms and the forms shall set you free.


What I like most about this book is its emphasis on reading, copying, and constraint as the ways towards creativity. It would be nicely bundled with Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer and Virginia Tufte’s Artful Sentences, maybe even Sister Bernadette’s Barking Dog: The Quirky History and Lost Art of Diagramming Sentences.

I really liked the beginning of this book and took copious notes, then I mostly skimmed through the rest. (I’ve noticed that the Kindle makes it very easy to do that.)

PS: Looking back through my archives, I noticed that a lot of the material in this book probably sprang from this blog post by Fish on teaching writing: “The Game of Writing Sentences.”

Filed under: sentences + my reading year 2012

Stanley Fish, How to Write a Sentence: And How to Read One

Louis Menand, writing about Donald Barthelme: “The visual artist can deal with almost every kind of material, even sound, but the writer deals with only one kind of material: sentences.”

Fish’s approach is the same: sentences are the writer’s material, and if we pay close attention to the sentences of other writers, if we analyze them and imitate them, we will see that sentences are just different forms that we can plug our own content into:

Form, form, form, and only form is the road to what the classical theorists called “invention,” the art of coming up with something to say….[You can use forms] not simply to arrange thoughts but also to create thoughts. Creativity is often contrasted with forms to the latter’s detriment, but the thrush is that forms are the engines of creativity….This then, is my theology: You shall tie yourself to forms and the forms shall set you free.

What I like most about this book is its emphasis on reading, copying, and constraint as the ways towards creativity. It would be nicely bundled with Francine Prose’s Reading Like a Writer and Virginia Tufte’s Artful Sentences, maybe even Sister Bernadette’s Barking Dog: The Quirky History and Lost Art of Diagramming Sentences.

I really liked the beginning of this book and took copious notes, then I mostly skimmed through the rest. (I’ve noticed that the Kindle makes it very easy to do that.)

PS: Looking back through my archives, I noticed that a lot of the material in this book probably sprang from this blog post by Fish on teaching writing: “The Game of Writing Sentences.

Filed under: sentences + my reading year 2012

Dec 14, 2011
Permalink

Kim Deal on “real” bass players

My buddy sent me this after reading Thelonius Monk’s advice, “Don’t play everything (or overtime). What you don’t play can be more important than what you do play.”