Interconnectedness: Art and Commercialism
By David Beem

High Art and Pop Art: What's the difference? Classical musicians high and low, come weigh in on this one. Most of my performer friends embrace pop culture, but I have a vague sense that this is related to their age. My generation has come up with lots of cross-over performers, and when huge talent like Yo-Yo Ma or Joshua Bell dabble in cross-over rep, it has a way of transforming "low" art to "high" art. I'm not going to get into the Beethoven/Beatles debate here (i.e. is there something intrinsically better about classical music vs. pop music). Rather, I'd like to focus on what it is to create art and market it.

Culturally, our perception of commercialism is that it amounts to something "less" than high art. There are many good reasons for this perception, not the least of them being that the more money that goes behind the product, the more hands there are in the creation of the product. Hence, the "purity" of the product is diluted by all those marketing experts seeking to "brand" it. Classical musicians rarely dwell on this. We're too busy learning to play in tune, with good rhythm, and spin a beautiful phrase. Imagine how many more people might love Beethoven if we all spent even half that amount of time on marketing. I know this is anathema in the purest corners of the industry, places where the notion of "branding" Beethoven is equal to diminishing him to the purpose of selling a car rather than lifting our souls from the murk of humanity for nothing short of a life changing experience.

But marketing isn't intrinsically about diminishing something's value. You can market a life changing experience, and that's exactly what the car commercial is doing. It's telling you that driving their car is going to change your life. What the artist should concern him/herself with is how can I market the art itself? (By the way, as much as some resent "reducing" Beethoven to selling cars, he is getting play out of that commercial. Think about how many more people watch TV who have never, ever, ever, ever, EVER considered listening to classical music. Now all those people have listened to Beethoven too.)

It has been said that art comes from an internal well of inspiration, a source so personal that it cannot be touched by the consideration of how to market the product. Merely contemplating its commercial value risks diluting the birth of art, right?

Well, no.

All great art is written for consumption. (Strike that — unless you're part of a movement called Dadaism. Look it up.) If you've written a symphony, you had to consider very commercial things. Even Beethoven, much as he resented it. You can't write a symphony for a million performers and expect it ever to get played. You can't write a symphony that lasts 24 hours and expect more than your mother or father to be interested in listening. Probably not even them. So why are you writing it? Is it art if your work can never be experienced? If that artist is you, then you're not going to like what I have to say. For everyone else: read on.

You're symphony, book, movie — whatever — is there to share. The art of marketing a product is all about getting in touch with what external influences are motivating you to create it. Those influences are interconnected in the world around you. In fact, you, the artist, are the only person trying to unnaturally divorce yourself from the world. Letting those influences in, letting them take up residence, that's where the good stuff is. That's where your artistic voice lives. It lives at the intersection of main (you) and Beethoven (one of your inspirations, for instance). It doesn't actually carve up so neatly, but that's the idea. If you're motivated by 50-cent, and you're writing a symphony, you should invite 50-cent to the drafting table. Get him there, symbolically, and feed him as you work. Keep him happy, but keep him right next to you through the entire creation process. Why? Your art will be clearly defined, and stronger for it. Plus, now you know how to market that sucker when you're done.

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Most great art isn't about one thing. It looks a bit more like an oriental rug, with lots of patterns running through it. But the artist is responsible for understanding what patterns are in there and reaching for more than the dilettante, who may adopt a "catch as catch can" approach. The dilettante can afford to leave a thumb print on his/her creation, because the thumbprint imparts spontaneous beauty which can't be replicated. The master artist wants to know how he/she did it, so they can do it again. If you're writing a novel, you don't want to rely on chance to get that charmingly placed thumbprint. You'll want to know how to make it more charming than when it happened by chance. After all, you're creating art, and I didn't see any thumb prints on Michelangelo's David.

There are a few typical mistakes artists make on the path to mastery.

1. Knowledge blocks intuition.

2. Don't think. Feel.

3. Commercialism is anathema to art.

Let's knock 'em off, shall we? Intuition is important, no doubt. Intuition without knowledge is a broken promise. Intuition offers up the potential for greatness. It gives answers before we're ready to understand those answers. But over reliance on one's intuition will end in disaster every time. Every time. Knowledge, practice, study, comprehension, these things provide the framework for an artist to know what they're supposed to do with all that good intuition. So if you're intuition heavy and knowledge light, you may want to rethink what you're doing.

Feel, don't think? Good if you're a Jedi, bad if you're Han Solo. Han Solo didn't feel his way through a career as a smuggler, he had to learn some facts first. Where is the Imperial Fleet, and how fast do I need to be in order to outrun them? (Kessel run less than twelve parsecs, isn't that what he said?) Without doing some research, he'd never have become the galaxy's numero uno smuggler-o. (You're welcome Star Wars fans.)

Commercialism is bad? Commercialism can dilute art. No question. But it doesn't have to, and that's a fact. Making something commercial is only about identifying who your target audience is and reaching out to them. The stronger your conception is about that, the less you risk dilution in the commercial process. If your product has no clear consumer, commercialism will likely bury your art beneath ideas that were never yours. But since we already agreed that strengthening your conception creates greater art — you're a perfect fit for producing the art. Commercial away!

David Beem		David has served on the faculties of Murray State University, University of Evansville, and Indiana University at South Bend. David has recorded the string quartets of Bela Bartok, (2, 4 & 6) Frederick Fox's Dawnen Gray, and Bernard Heiden's Clarinet Quintet with James Campbell. Currently, David is hard at work promoting his first novel, Abyss of Chaos, even while producing its sequel, The Philosopher's Game. Music and writing form a harmoneous pair.

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