AN ARTIST’S MANIFESTO

“What we need is to look back and try and find out where we went wrong, where the rain began to beat us.”  Chinua Achebe, Novelist as Teacher (1964, page 43).

To say I’ve had a tough week would be an understatement. I am slowly learning that it is okay to feel disillusioned at some point. And I know the wallowing artist trope has been overdone, but I really do feel that many of us feel frustrated when we put in the work and don’t get any results. This encounter with the Absurd-the search for meaning in a meaning in an apparently meaningless world- always makes me feel like I am drowning . So yeah, it’s been a tough week. And what better way to deal with such dread and existential angst  than hacking on some keys in WordPress.  Let’s talk about artists and disillusionment.

I read the quote above  at the start of the aforementioned week of disaster.  Achebe argues that it is the novelist’s role to unearth and explore the root causes of trauma within a society through their work.  In my brain, I just substituted novelist with artist.  For aren’t all artists trying to do the almost the  same thing. Art is as abstract as it is pure, but there is no denying that we feel something when we experience it.   However, like any artist there are times that one becomes disillusioned with their work. This happens for a variety of reasons, but I suspect that there lies a common thread between all artists. Almost artists I know hope that their art changes something or someone in the world. For an individual to approach an artist and describe that their work impacted them strongly,  is the most fulfilling part of the job.   It means that something you created touched a truth innate within another’s experience.  So when you hear what Achebe has to say about the role of the artist, things get quite interesting.

As an artist myself, i find that I always get a bit of disillusioned  when I start a new project. Only Apple knows how many Gigabytes of scripts lie inside my hard drive. There is a constant fear of failure that usually stops some ideas from even reaching the sanctity of said hard drive. I fear that the work I make has no impact in this often cold and unforgiving world.  How many movies about slavery and genocide have we had and yet  the world moves on; continuing to spin on its axis only for the same cycles to repeat themselves.  This fear is paralyzing.

It is a poison that has spread to me due to the outright inferiority of 1 man from Uganda against a capitalist system that shall not allow him or his work to state otherwise.  The fear of rejection because your idea “rubs too many feathers” or “doesn’t appeal to our audience” will be the reason we shall all be watching Avengers 20 by the time we die.  This is what I have began to tell myself now as I reread Achebe’s quote for what must be the nth time. I do not think it is enough for art to only look back and present the story of the past.  Merely identifying trauma is not a means to an end, but rathe the beginning of the journey.  On a personal level, art is draining. I feel tiny bits of myself are imbedded within every word or frame or brush stroke that I make.  So there is a cause for me to be worried that my work does not have any effect on people. And so by extension I feel that my person carries along with it no meaning.

Of course  I know that this is not true. But to deny the existence of a toothache only serves to ruin a perfect set of teeth. There is cause for worry in the way art has been implicated and stifled by capitalism. And to this end,  I ask to go even further than Achebe with my art. I ask to beat the clouds themselves.