Making art despite obstructions

The average person views an obstacle as something to be avoided as much as possible.

But for the creative person, obstacles can actually hone your art, or compel you to new heights.

Sometimes, as much as we may dislike it, we need to struggle. We need something to push against.

When we do, it strengthens our creative muscles.

Butterflies in cocoons strengthen their wings by fighting their way out. If you attempt to "help" them by slitting open the cocoon for them, you're actually harming them.

Their wings will be too weak and won't fully develop.

Ralph Keyes, in his book "The Writer's Book of Hope," devotes an entire chapter to dealing with those who would discourage us. His advice: understand where they're coming from and use their discouragement as goads.

In other words, in a kind of artistic ju-jitsu, use their discouragement and cause it to have an opposite effect than what they intended.

He prefaces his chapter with a fabulous quote from Walter Bagehot, who said, "The great pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do."

And he tells, as one of his many examples, the story of mystery writer Sue Grafton, who was told when she was writing screenplays that she was good at characterization, but not at plotting. So with the attitude of "I'll show them," she began writing mysteries, a genre in which plotting is essential. (Her alphabet series of novels, beginning with "A is for Alibi," are best sellers.)

Scenes from Jorgen Leth's "The Perfect Human." COURTESY PHOTO

And Keyes mentions Theodore Solotaroff, founder and editor of the New American Review, who "believed that one of the worst things that could happen to gifted young writers was to win too much acclaim too young and bypass the rejection-frustrationdespair syndrome that would prepare them for the long haul of a literary career. Solotaroff was concerned that those early-success writers might never learn how to convert 'dif- fuse anger and disappointment into deliberate and durable aggression, the writer's main source of energy,'" Keyes writes.

If success comes too soon and too easily, you don't learn how to persevere. You don't struggle to perfect your craft. Why should you, when success has fallen into your lap?

We've all seen musicians who keep producing the same album, or writers who seem to write the same book, or actors who seem to typecast themselves, only playing roles that feel safe.

If you don't stretch, you don't grow.

In one of life's great moments of serendipity, I happened to watch the 2003 film, "The Five Obstructions," during the same period I was reading Keyes' book.

In it, Danish director Lars von Trier ("Dogville," "Dancer in the Dark") challenges his mentor, director Jorgen Leth, to remake a 12-minute movie he made in 1967. Von Trier admires the movie so much he watched it 20 times. The black and white film, called "The Perfect Human," shows a man, and a woman, doing various things throughout the day: eating, getting dressed, sleeping, dancing, jumping, falling.

Von Trier challenges Leth to remake the movie five different times. And with each challenge, he adds certain obstructions. For example, in the first challenge, Leth has to shoot it in Cuba and can't use a set. And oh, by the way, von Trier seems to casually add: no shot can be longer than 12 frames in length. (That's half a second of screen time.)

Other challenges: Leth has to remake his film in "the most miserable place on earth." Then he has to shoot it as a cartoon. (Both Leth and von Trier hate animation.) Then he has to make a free-style film.

With each new challenge, you think: how in the world is he going to make a film this time with these obstacles?

But he does. And the documentary shows Leth creating each new incarnation of "The Perfect Human," as well as von Trier's reaction when shown the finished product.

And the work — the work is amazing. It's amazing and moving and disturbing and incredible.

It's almost as if alternative Leths living in alternative universes have made alternative versions of "The Perfect Human."

Every time we create something, we're making numerous decisions, choosing this, not this, and then this, not that. Change one of those decisions, and the end result will be different.

 

It's been said that if you ask 10 different writers to tell a story, you'll get 10 different versions. Same for artists; 10 different artists can paint the same object, but depending upon their style, skill, and vision, the resulting paintings will differ greatly.

In "The Five Obstacles," von Trier acts antagonistically toward Leth, but also seems to greatly admire him. It's an odd but intriguing artistic game in which he challenges Leth to come up with creative solutions to the obstacles he throws in his path.

In a way, it seems like a backhanded compliment from one young filmmaker to his mentor.

People who work with numbers or in scientific fields often say that the reason they like their jobs is because of the certainty. There is one right answer: the same row of numbers always adds up to the same sum, every single time.

But in the arts, there is more than one answer. The obstacles may be daunting or appear overwhelming, but paradoxically, they may help create a richer, more creative result.

There are endless answers, endless solutions.

The world is full of possibilities.