April 03, 2008

Daring Mediocrity

"With each new book we must dare failure, or worse: mediocrity."

--Katherine Paterson, author of Bridge to Terabithia, winner of the Newberry Medal and Jacob Have I Loved, winner of the National Book Award.

Recent conversations and bits of reading have all converged on this theme of mediocrity. It seems we artists would rather sell the brushes, toss the manuscripts, and burn the house before submitting ourselves to mediocrity. But we'll never know if our work is mediocre until the investment is made, and the work is completed. So we terrorize ourselves, paralyze our work for fear of mediocrity.

Steven Pressfield advocates an almost maniacal pursuit of excellence in our craft. But at the same time, he holds up his (and our) fear of mediocrity, and calls it what it is: laziness, cowardice, pride, and (his favorite term) "resistance."

"Do the work and give it to Him. Do it as an offering to God. [Who says,] 'Give the act to me, purged of hope and ego.' " --from The War of Art

The essence of Pressfield's chapter: do your art, humbly and faithfully and leave the results to God. It is supreme arrogance to demand a certain outcome for sacrificial labor. It is the realm of the gods to give blessing and withhold it.

What if we try? What if we dare risk mediocrity? And what if we attain it? What if I (or you) produce a piece of absolutely pedestrian drivel? Or worse, what if we turn out to be mediocre?

"In the providence of God, some people who hope to become artists never reach their desired goal. This may be for reasons of practical necessity, or because they never reach the level of excellence required to sustain a career in the arts. In such cases it is important not to focus on the frustration of not achieving one's ambitions, but to recognize that there are other meaningful ways to participate in the arts. A full understanding of the arts recognizes both the unique vocation of the professional artist and the value of other forms of artistic expression. Even if our art must become an avocation rather than a vocation, it should still be pursued with deep joy and a strong sense of purpose." --Philip Graham Ryken in Art for God's Sake: A Call to Recover the Arts

Somehow, this isn't comforting. It ought to be, but it isn't. I don't want to pursue a hobby (or an "avocation," as Ryken exalts it). I don't want there to be even the possibility of a hobby. A friend of mine recently said, "I don't see why those people at the back of the race even bother running. I wouldn't try unless I knew I could be up front, doing something." When it comes to art, those are my sentiments exactly.

Art is communication. The better the art, the more clearly we convey ideas, emotions, philosophy, and ultimately, truth. If we're only mediocre, then what's the point of even trying? Shouldn't we pursue something that will communicate the truth more effectively than half-baked novels, shoddy rhymes, Kincaidian painting?

It's a question to which I'd never heard anyone, Christian or non, give a convincing answer.

Until Edith Schaeffer. I'm in the last chapter of her book The Hidden Art of Homemaking. I picked it up reluctantly, and, as I feared, every chapter has been convicting, but nothing more so than her thoughts on not-so-great artists.

"One area of art inspires another area of art, but also one person's expression of art stimulates another person and brings about growth in understanding, sensitivity and appreciation. One active artist gives courage and incentive, and germinates ideas in others for producing more art. Hence a very poor, humble or unknown artist might easily provide the spark which kindles the fire of a great artist."

Art as an act of service to others. Art for the express purpose of inspiring others to use their God-given creativity. I may not be a Rembrandt. I may never encapsulate truth as C.S. Lewis did. No matter. My job is to be an *active* artist, one that is inspiring others to pursue and express truth to the best of their abilities.

Here is the "deep joy and a strong sense of purpose" that Ryken hinted at. Here is Pressfield's humility and courage. Herein lies the daring: daring to be mediocre, to be anything, for the sake of service. Service to others. Service to art. Service to Truth. Service, ultimately, to God.

Posted by stephanie at April 3, 2008 08:11 PM | TrackBack