Why Creative People Frighten Me

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010 | People
Photographer Why Creative People Frighten Me

It all started with an image of Carlos Whittaker posing in an ad on Michael Hyatt’s blog.

It wasn’t so much that he was posing–but that look he had on his face…

And his body posture.

At first blush, innocuous. Bland. Marginally detached.

Nothing to cause alarm or concern. It’s just a photograph promoting Whittaker’s EP.

But the thing got under my skin. In a low-grade BAD way. For days even.

The thing is, I couldn’t really put my finger on why it bothered me so much. It just made me go–ick.

And it wasn’t a dislike for Whittaker or his music. I knew that much. No, it went to the core of something else.

Something deeper. In my own being. Or our culture’s soul. Or both. I just didn’t know until the mystery started to unfold.

Disturbing Photographs of Disturbed Poets

I have a book on my shelf called Eight American Poets.

It’s a slim anthology on Theodore Roethke, Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, John Berryman, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Allen Ginsberg and James Merrill–poets who characterize the 20th century’s “second brilliant generation.”

[...the first generation being Whitman, Dickinson, Frost, Hughes,Stevens, and Williams...]

On the cover–as you might suspect–are photographs of each poet…all of them, except Ginsberg, staring at you.

It’s disturbing on many levels.

First, human eyes staring at you are strange things indeed. Photographs of human eyes staring at you even more odd. Photographs of eyes staring at you that belong to dead people–haunting.

But photographs of human eyes staring at you that belonged to dead people who, when alive, led very creative, but disturbed lives takes the cake.

These are such photographs. And it doesn’t help that I’ve got history with these poets. Let me explain.

The Powerful Impact of Disturbed Poets

Long ago as a moody, half-cocked young poet I fell for Sylvia Plath. Adored Anne Sexton. Admired James Merrill. Cherished Theodore Roethke. Envied Robert Lowell. And idolized John Berryman.

The only poet who I spurned was Allen Ginsberg and that was due to his pedophilic tendencies.

But the others I’d canonized. Bizarre since these poets lived and died tragic lives.

Three of the poets killed themselves–Plath, Berryman and Sexton.

Lowell made a career out of writing candid poetry about his multiple mental hospitals admissions.

Bishop lived the life of a recluse with her lover in South America.

Theodore Roethke endured crippling episodes of depression.

And James Merrill, who painted a candid portrait of gay life in the early 1950s, lived modestly despite great personal wealth and eventually died in Arizona from AIDS complications.

You wonder why I–or anyone for that matter–invested so much hope and emotional capital into such people.

But here’s the deal: These troubling writers powerfully shaped my mind. And drug me to dark places I’d rather not go. Which brings us back to Whittaker.

What Does This Have to Do with Carlos Whittaker?

When it comes to romantic poetry and rock n roll both are at their best when they come from emotionally raw places says Craig Schuftan in his book Hey Nietzsche! Leave Them Kids Alone.

Take the former Smashing Pumpkins front man Billy Corgan, for example. He said, ”And the more intense it was, the better, and we would probably have to suffer for that.”

Then there’s the British romantic poet George Gordon Byron who said about Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage–perhaps his best poem–”I was truly mad during its composition.”

[Note: Before Byron the notion that you had to suffer to create great art seemed ridiculous.]

Unfortunately, this notion is leaching into the Christian culture. Whittaker is but a mild example.

So my question to you is this: Is this the least bit healthy–regardless if you are a Christian or not? Furthermore, does it belong in the Christian community?

Or is this just anonther example of our incumbent narcissism rearing it’s ugly head and placing the focus on us rather than Christ?

Understand: I am one of those creative people. And I have a bent for suffering. But I’m not sure the focus should be placed on me or my pain.

I’m also reminded of Keith Green performing beneath his piano so people would focus on God and not him.

My irredeemable love of obscurity likes that. A lot.

So what do you think: Is this a zero-sum game? Or can we strike a balance? I look forward to your thoughts. Brutal and all.

Related posts:

  1. My Stint with Suicide [or Four People Who Nearly Killed Me]
  2. 10 People Who Influenced John Calvin
  3. Sam Storms on Calvin and the Joy of the Last Resurrection | DG 2009

Tags: , , , ,

15 Comments to Why Creative People Frighten Me

Angie F
January 26, 2010

I’m glad you are over your obsession with the obsessed. As for the Whittaker photo, it might not be intended for you. Nothing personal, but mayhap they had another audience in mind. In other words, chicks might dig it. Not me, of course. But other chicks. Who like that kind of thing. And aren’t married. :)

Denita
January 26, 2010

I think we need an element of rawness, or else what is produced has all the spark of processed cheese food. We can’t always have the creative equivalent of English gardens and carefully clipped lawns. We have to have rugged mountains, deep fjords, stately redwoods with bloody-muzzled wolves resting in their shade.

But just as the man in the English garden is stifled in his bland surroundings, to live in those wild places exclusively is to lose all sense of self-control and civility. This is why the mad creative genius burns out so quickly. For those with a creative bent, it doesn’t take much to tip over from a hike in the woods to Nebuchadnezzar in his 7-year dementia.

Richard DeVeau
January 26, 2010

Demian,

If I understand your question correctly, you’re asking if artists suffering for their art has a place in Christian culture. Yes?

If so, then let’s look at two things that intermingle, but are separate. First, as Christians, Jesus tells us we will indeed suffer. Suffering is an expected part of our lives as followers of Christ. But we are suffering for Christ’s sake and glory. Partly because we need to reflect Him regardless of what we’re going through, and partly because He is at work helping us flay our flesh (metaphorically speaking) and let’s face it, it’s a painful process. There is an unending paradox in pain—we learn through it (sometimes it’s the only way we learn) and without it we simply don’t grow. This happens to all Christians, artists included.

But the suffering I think you’re referring to with the poets and writers you mentioned (and I can name tons of painters, sculptors, actors, dancers, etc., to toss into the mix) has, I think, more to do with idolatry.

It’s too easy for artists to see themselves as god-like and above all because they are performing a very God-like act in creating things of beauty that can communicate powerfully and profoundly. It’s a very short step to believing you are then justified, if not encouraged, to create your own moral universe. You are a god and your art is your idol. You will serve it and suffer for it because it means everything to you. All else is subject to it; home, family, health, relationships. Anything that is not your art takes a back seat.

It’s also easy for Christian artists to fall into this same idolatrous trap. I admit to having had this happen to me when I got my first job in an ad agency as a writer. It was a heady experience to be paid to create and to see what I had created printed, published, and aired on the radio. I thought I was hot stuff and started acting that way. That is until God humbled me greatly and showed me that I had made my job an idol. It was a lesson that stuck. So that years when I began to have success as a painter and got into a few galleries, had my own solo shows, had my work reviewed by art critics and was interviewed by the Boston Globe, none of it affected me this way.

For artists who are also Christians, there is also another kind of suffering to endure, in addition to that which I stated earlier. And that is the suffering that comes from following your God-ordained path and using the gifts that you have been given in spite of the resistance that you will inevitably encounter. This resistance will come from both inside and outside the church. But if Christian artists are following in Christ’s footsteps and are suffering for it, then this too is reflecting God’s glory. There’s a lot more to say about this, but it may be another topic for another time.

Bottom line is that the suffering you spoke of here in this post is the one that I believe is not healthy for Christian artists. The way to best guard against this is for Christian artists to remain grounded in the Word, to not give in to their tendency to isolate themselves from the church, but instead to be pastored by someone who understands and values God’s gifting to those who are called to be artists.

Artists will suffer. But Christian artists should be suffering for the right reasons.

Denita
January 26, 2010

“Artists will suffer. But Christian artists should be suffering for the right reasons.”

BINGO! and AMEN!

Martin
January 26, 2010

Demian,
Since “We have this treasure in earthen vessels,” then it seems (as all said)cracking is part of the process. Since Christ is in us, we can call attention to ourselves and our scars—and the surpassing greatness of the power within us will be evident.

al
January 26, 2010

The impression is strong, Demian, that you really know the answer to your question but seek the support of like-minded believers– never a bad thing in itself. You have weaknesses and you have learned that Christ will show Himself strong in these areas if we are counting on Him to do so. But you also know that sometimes He will let out line so that you can run with the bait if you choose to, to a point. Risky business, that last part.

My big weakness is fiction writers. I have had my favorites who, even with my reading disabilities, I have voraciously devoured in years past. I acquired from them great stores of knowledge about the human psyche, which have served me well both as a secular newspaper reporter, columnist, and news photographer, as well as in later Christian witness and counseling. Some years ago I was the wisest man I knew. Surely not, but so I thought.

Later I became the biggest fool I knew. Presently, thank God, I bear no title. But I have had to rid myself of many shelves of books, music and films that would drag me down just to think about. Last October I disconnected my TV from any reception at all, & now use it only to play wholesome A/V, mostly Christian. Even though my youth is behind me, I must flee youthful lusts.

Usually discussions of the arts in America today leave me cold– I have lost touch & don’t recognize most of the names & styles I hear being discussed. I find that this feels demeaning, but only very slightly, and I’m sure it’s good for me to feel so. It beats having to swim up a waterfall once I’ve been sucked into the current of such interests. Let God deliver me into whatever my present state is meant to be and let me learn, as did Paul, therein to be content.

Denita
January 27, 2010

After musing on it for a day and getting slapped in the face by God last night, I have to apologize for writing the above comment. It was written from the perspective of a baby Christian who is still discovering her need for self-control. It has no Gospel backing its words.

I am embarrassed. Because everything I’ve read in the Bible says that that wild place is where the unrepentant reside.

One can be self-controlled without being stifled. One can be expressive without being unrestrained. The Christian can temper rawness with the Grace of his Loving Shepherd. I have crossed that line several times in the last few days, not just here but at several other blogs. A whole lot of unrestrained flash, and too little of Christ.

I stepped over the line, and lust for attention stepped in. And then that Shepherd’s Crook came smartly down across my back. Ouch.

Please pray for me, y’all. And I’m truly sorry. I’m going to take a week off from the Internet and spend the time in my Bible, scrubbing the pride off of me.

Love you guys!

Richard DeVeau
January 27, 2010

Denita,

I was just about to thank you for your enthusiastic response. No one has ever said “bingo and amen” to anything I’ve written before, at least not that I heard anyway. But then read your above post.

While I didn’t think you had anything to apologize for, I certainly can’t speak to your heart motive, nor will I ever want to get in the way of the Holy Spirit.

I will now say that I appreciate your vulnerability, honesty and humility. I also love what you add to these discussions, enthusiasm and all.

We love you, too.

Jason
January 27, 2010

The problem with pain and suffering is that we don’t get to choose the cause. If we could, it would hardly be suffering because we can pick it up or put it down whenever we feel like. However, it is in living out our calling, our lot in life, where we find the crosses God has prepared for us. There is plenty of pain in this world and in our lives, especially if we are following Jesus, without having to look for an artificial and self-imposed pain. I think we see people who have been “through the fire” and now share their reflections/experience/changed perpective and in our desire to emulate that, we self-inflict pain, act like martyrs, or take on a nihilistic attitude. All attempts to short cut the path God has for us to deal with the actual pain in our lives. Broken family relationships. Serving an unappreciative spouse or boss. Forgiving the people who have caused us great pain. Mending the relationship gap with our kids. Those pains leave us too vulnerable and some simply seem too mundane.

Don B
January 27, 2010

Denita: “I stepped over the line, and lust for attention stepped in.”

Wow! This is the battle-line for me.

I smugly claim, “I’m doing it for the Lord.” But am I really? Or is the creative stuff I do simply an attempt to get attention? I post something, then frequently check back to see if others have commented – and feel good if they do.

Denita – thanks for your honest humility. If the truth were known, I suspect that, like me, many have cringed at your example.

Demian Farnworth
January 27, 2010

Don B: Indeed, we all thirst for attention. That pat on the back. Fame. You’ve pegged my blog devotion perfectly. That’s why I sometimes feel like crawling into the proverbial hole of obscurity.

Jason: I think you and Richard said the same thing, “As Christians we are promised suffering.” Your addition, we don’t need to shortcut that process is spot on.

Richard: I love your identification and division of the issue. As I’ve said before in my post on Why You Have to Listen to My Half-Baked Ideas, I want to develop my line of thought. Or correct it. Everyone’s response helps me do that.

Al: I too went through the process of purging some much dark material from my past! I do have to say though–and this is debatable–in order to understand the arguments of the enemy and relate we need to engage the culture. Not become it, because that is a real risk. As Jesus said, “In the world, but not in it.”

Denita: I don’t see an infraction either, but like Richard pointed out, you know your heart better than us. I appreciate your sensitivity to the spirit, sister.

al
January 27, 2010

D, because you said the point is debatable, I’ll take you up on it– if not a debate, at least discussion:
Our greater need than to engage the culture is to engage the Lord. It is only through our attentiveness to Him as our Lord, through His Word and in prayer that we learn what we need to know about anything. As John said of Jesus,
But Jesus on His part did not entrust Himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for He Himself knew what was in man. (Jn.2:24-25)
This he then applies to us, saying,
By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment,

because as He is so are we in this world.

(1Jn.4:17 emphasis mine)
What information, knowledge, wisdom, understanding we have picked up along the way, either before or since our conversion, will be useful by virtue of the wondrous promise of Rom.8:28, but now it no longer suits us to depend on the world’s methods of gaining education, having been shown and given a new and more excellent way…

Demian Farnworth
January 28, 2010

I agree: Our greater need is to engage God. But not exclusively.

My marriage would be in trouble if that’s all I did. It works better when I spend time trying to understand my wife. And one of the reasons I do this because I do believe that God created man to relate to one another, and in that relation he is glorified.

And even though the world’s wisdom is subordinate to God’s, it is not worthless. Indeed, all truth is his. What do you think?

al
January 28, 2010

As I think you know, what I think is of no consequence– what God has said is what matters.

This that He has said sums it up for me:

…whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. (1Cor.10:31b)

And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

…so, in essence, we do and must engage God exclusively inasmuch as all we do must be done in Him, i.e. in His name and for His glory, which we are incapable of doing apart from Him because we are incapable of being in any way apart from Him. My relationship with my wife, my brethren in Christ, even the world and the devil, from my end, is conducted and has its being only in Christ.

No argument, D– just clarifying terminology.
:)

Demian Farnworth
January 28, 2010

I thought we were on the same page, cause I uphold everything you said as coming from someone who always says it better than me. :)

Leave a comment

Get Adobe Flash playerPlugin by wpburn.com wordpress themes