My Creative Process
My Creative Process
Discovering and refining your creative process is an essential step for any creative--especially for those who creatively think or problem solve for a living. Your optimal creative process is personal and requires tons of experimentation to refine--finding out what doesn’t work for you is just as helpful as discovering what does--but borrowing ideas from others to try out is a great way to get started. You can then make adjustments as you navigate through your projects and discover what helps you get the best out of your work. Through discipline, purpose, and an understanding of their optimal creative process one can create efficiently and relentlessly.
Two major shortcomings I find in many creative’s processes are a lack of structure--in the form of initial limitations--and a lack of consistent reflection throughout the process. Both of these take important places in my creative process, and they are something I think folks should spend more time on. Creativity is most easily accessed when trying to navigate through limitations. In a sense all creativity is problem solving. Structure allows the mind to focus on individual aspects of the project, and a fluent understanding of these structures allows for them to be aesthetically broken--which is why the only time they must be strictly adhered to is during academic and/or the rudimentary periods. Intent and context are important. As a result, writing random music and calling it a symphony actually diminishes the work. If instead one started with a strict symphonic structure and then outlined a multitude of ways they were going to disrupt it, it would create a more thoughtful impactful piece of art as well as give the composer a road map to follow in the process. It is thoughtful and allows the composer to work efficiently going forward because the structure of the piece has been decided. They have drawn the picture and now they get to decide how wildly they’d like to color it.
Today I wanted to share my creative process.
For some clarity, this entire process can dramatically vary in length. Planning an outfit for a high stakes event might go from step 1 through 9 in 20 minutes. Creating a piece of music might take months. While the amount of time I spend in each stage varies between projects, this is the process I follow for everything from composing a new work to putting an outfit together, designing a suit, programming a recital, building a workout, or creating visual art.
Step 1: Conceptualize
This is where I decide on the project. In some cases Step 1 and Step 3 are overlapping or simultaneous. If someone were to commission a piece of music for a particular instrument or ask me to design the outfit for their wedding for example, those are structural limitations and have some implied rules. The purpose of this stage, though, is deciding what the project is, what you want to communicate, and what is its purpose. How will it serve the client? What message does it send? Who is your audience? What ideas does it explore? How will this project express your creative purpose?
Step 2: Reflect/Meditate
You’ll notice that every stage is followed by a period of reflection/meditation. These aren't strict and more than anything represent time away from the project and/or conceptual reassessment. They can be anywhere from seconds to entire days to periods of actual strict meditation. I find that my subconscious is the greatest expression of my abstract artistic thoughts and these periods allow for me to clear my head, get closer to my subconscious, and reassess my project against its conceptualization to see if it fulfills them artistically/effectively. Particularly in this early stage it allows me to be mindful of where my subconscious is drawn to with my conceptual material. If I'm crafting an outfit that I want to be excessively colorful do I want more clashing colors intentionally or do I want to pursue it in a more subtle fashion? In a recent work about stars that I wrote for my friend Elliott, I thought about what interested me about stars, and by association, the universe, what is our place in it, where is it going, are we significant, how do I feel about that, and does it even matter?
Other common questions include: Are my choices effective? Could they be more efficient? If they’re pedantic, should they be? Why did I make my previous decisions? Have I run into limits conceptually? Should I change/break this limit/concept that is causing issues? Is there a different/better/more effective way to overcome this obstacle?
Step 3: Decide Limits
As indicated in Step 1, some limits are decided by the nature of commissioned projects--particularly with certain events or clients in mind. This is more helpful than not because it creates the seeds of a framework for your project, and when the conceptualization is complete the other limits/structure can be decided. If I was to create a revolutionary modern style suit jacket, what are major changes I could make? What are essential pieces I must adhere to? In programming a recital it might be what are the musical and technical demands? Are there likely to be stamina issues and how should I avoid them? Do I need/want an intermission? Will the Audience need one? Do I want any breaks between pieces at all? How do I want to vary the orchestration throughout the program. If I’m writing a work, what instrumentation best captures my conceptualization, or how can I capture my conceptualization with this particular predetermined instrument/ensemble? What form best captures my concept for the piece? Will I need different/new media? What are the technical limitations of the sounds/instruments at my disposal and how do they impact how I express the concept of the work. Is harmony or melody more important or are they equal? What is the narrative I am trying to express?
Step 4: Reflect/Meditate (See Step 2.)
Step 5: Craft the Primary Structure
Once the primary structural decisions are made, that framework must be built. In a composition this is when I would set pencil to paper and start crafting the melody, harmony, initial textural ideas, and electronics (if needed). The order I build them in is dictated by the Stage 3 limitations based on importance--the most important part must come first. For example if I’m writing a piece for instrument and fixed media that utilizes a narrator in the electronics, the fixed media must be built first in order to make sure the narrator’s voice is audible/impactful throughout the piece and to be able to plan if, how, when, and where it interacts with the soloist. If I’m planning a recital or other performance this is when I research the works, interview the composers, spend time listening to the pieces, and make my personal artistic decisions about my performance. If I’m building an outfit, this is where I outline and move toward decisions on initial options like pattern/texture, color, fit, shoes/belt, whether I’ll use a tie and/or pocket silk, and the coordination of all of those parts.
Step 6: Reflect/Meditate (See Step 2.)
Step 7: Build
This is the glorious part. The stage folks dream of...pure creation. In this stage things get ugly and come together by taking all of the preliminary knowledge, meditation, concept, structure and research and building something from it. Notes go on the page, outfits get laid out, repertoire starts being learned/rehearsed, and paint/pen goes on canvas/paper. With the previous foundation in mind this stage can flow freely. All of that thought, time, attention, intention, and energy converge and because the map is built and the concept is there all you have to do is follow it create what you set out to.
In this stage I don’t ask many questions. I strive to let the ideas flow from my subconscious as much as possible. The projects that come close to my heart and that grip my attention are the ones that the more passive side of my mind seizes tenaciously. Planning, meditation, reflection, and structure are the bridge that they cross.
Step 8: Reflect/Meditate (See Step 2.)
Step 9: Sharpen
One of the most impactful teachers in my life was my high school AP English Language instructor. My favorite thing was that she never used the word “edit.” She would say “Sharpen.”
Art must cut like hot steel. Even if it is questionable, even if it isn’t for everyone, the goal should be something gripping that its ideal audience doesn't want to tear their eyes from. While Stage 7 is so romantic in the free expression of creativity. Real art is made between conceptualization, reflection/meditation, and sharpening. No sword was ever forged and immediately fully prepared to cut through armor. Just so, no art was ever pontificated and immediately capable of clawing its way into people’s hearts; furthermore, no creative ever reaches a point where they only have good ideas. Marketing Guru Seth Godin often argues that you can’t have good ideas if you don’t have bad ideas, and when you exercise your creative muscles actively and consistently, you may find that it's less that ideas are good or bad and more that you have more tools for how to approach them readily and sustainably.
My question is what do those initial bad ideas become? I would argue that creatives would benefit from going a step further. When possible, pursue those bad ideas. Sharpen them. Find out what makes them bad. Are they bad? Were you not ready to approach them? Were you ready to approach them, and you didn’t plan or reflect as effectively as you could have? Do they speak to you conceptually? Do they speak to others conceptually? Did you pursue them in the wrong medium?
All of these are great questions for the bigger picture of sharpening oneself, but for individual projects this is where early shipping comes in handy. When I finish a draft of a project, I send it to the commissioning artist or to a trusted confidant immediately. I tell them it’s the first fully constructed version, that I’d love their input, and I am open to all manner of edits changes. I want them to be as open with me as possible. From here the beauty of collaborative art begins. I always make the changes that are essential to make sure the client is able to actually utilize the project, but I may leave some suggestions if it compromises the integrity of the project--which is rare. If folks want to collaborate with you, they’ll put in the effort to help execute your art, but as the creative there needs to be some give and take from your end also. These aren’t the only kinds of sharpening though. I will go through constantly making all kinds of changes. There’s no freedom like clicking “save as” on a project and then ripping up the new version just to see what happens all while knowing that the original is safe in its folder, and sometimes reconceptualizing from this late of a stage and editing everything can result in the best expression of your art. For an outfit it might be deciding on the tie/pocket silk combination I like best and choosing to use neither, or even to switch jackets. On a recital it might be cutting a piece, adding another, changing the accompaniment you’re using, or choosing to not give the recital at all. Regardless of your medium, the goal is to make something powerful and impactful.
Questions I often ask in this stage include, “Is this the highest level I can execute this at?” “Would more time on this actually be helpful?” “Does this project fulfill its conceptual purpose from Stage 1?” “Can it fulfill its conceptualization more effectively?” “Who’s eyes, ears, and brain do I think would give me the best perspective on this project?” “Am I shipping this project for enjoyment, improvement, or just for profit?” “Do I love it?” “Do I hate it?” “Am I the best person to express this?” “If not me, whom?”
For those who read until the end,
Thank you
Your attention means the world to me.
I’d love to hear about what you’re up to, the creative projects you’re working on, and how you’ve refined your personal creative rhythms.
Cheers,
Andrew