Art Is Dangerous

Duke Ellington once said, “Art is dangerous. It is one of the attractions: when it ceases to be dangerous, you don’t want it.”

I think that Ellington meant that good art is meant to challenge us, and that art that doesn’t make us a little uncomfortable isn’t worth making, but, given some recent musical experiences of mine, I’m thinking that there’s another layer of meaning to Ellington’s comment about the nature of art. Making art, or in our case, music, is risky. It takes a certain amount of courage, of bravery, to make music, whether it’s through performing or writing.

Some of you will have the opportunity to come out and participate in Motif’s upcoming composition workshop with Canadian composer Christine Donkin, and I hope that experience will help you to realize that making music doesn’t have to be as complex or intimidating a process as you once thought, but I know that it’s still risky, putting yourself out there as a musician. As we head into a new term of making music here at Motif, perhaps you can gain some inspiration from the stories of two of my favourite contemporary musicians.

It takes a certain amount of courage, of bravery, to make music, whether it’s through performing or writing.

Back in February, I had the privilege of seeing Bobby McFerrin live in performance at the Port Theatre in Nanaimo, along with his vocal ensemble Gimme 5. It was a remarkable and moving experience. If all you know of McFerrin is his 1988 hit “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” I strongly recommend that you explore more of his music and bear witness to one of the musical geniuses of our time. A Bobby McFerrin concert is not a passive listening experience; one is expected to participate in his spontaneous music creations, and it is a joy to do so. There is something so deeply satisfying about making music in a group, led by an incredible talent like McFerrin. Upon reflection after the concert, however, I had a bit of a revelation about the show: the entire thing was improvised. Over 90 minutes of complete spontaneity, in front of an expectant crowd. Think of the courage that takes! During one of the first songs, it seemed to take McFerrin and one of the other singers some time to “get into the groove” of the piece; it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t moving, it wasn’t particularly exciting … at first. Once the piece found its way, it was magical. Not only was this a good lesson in how risky it is to make spontaneous music, to improvise, but also in how important patience is in making (and listening to) music.

At almost the same time as I was enjoying McFerrin in concert, there was something interesting happening at the annual Grammy Awards: Washington-born Americana singer/songwriter Brandi Carlile was winning three Grammys for her latest album By the Way, I Forgive You. She also performed her award-winning song “The Joke”. The song itself is full of risk. In it, Carlile pushes her already-impressive vocal range to its limits, which you can hear when you listen to the recording on the album. When she performs the song live, however, she doesn’t always hit the final high note perfectly, which is exactly what happened during the Grammys. No-one doubted the sincerity of her performance though, as she sang the song with passion and commitment. Shortly after the Grammys, Carlile took another performing risk when she appeared on Ellen Degeneres’ live talk show and sang the song alone, without the support of her band. She delivered an emotional and stripped-down performance, one that moved Degeneres and her audience, in part because of the vocal risk inherent in any live rendering of “The Joke”. Carlile has earned her reputation as a passionate performer over the past few years, largely because of the courage she shows, both in how she pushes herself vocally and in the material she chooses to tackle in her songs (“The Joke” is about bullying). Rarely does she play it safe, and audiences respect her for that.

In 2013, Sara Bareilles released the song “Brave” on her album The Blessed Unrest. In it, Bareilles urged us to “say what you want to say/ and let the words fall out/ honestly, I wanna see you be brave.” She was aiming her words primarily at young women, but the sentiment is relevant to all of us as we embark upon the next stage of our musical journey together at Motif.