Q̾u̾i̾c̾k̾ ̾F̾i̾r̾e̾: Creation anxiety
Maybe we all need to create less, and participate more
MØRNING. Last week, London-based writer and curator Ethan Joseph appeared on Joe Bloom’s brillaint A View From A Bridge project to share his hot take on something many of us have been feeling, but hadn’t quite verbalised. The feeling in question: a crippling pressure to create (or an anxiety over not being creative enough). But how do we escape from this unique cultural bind? Who better to ask than Ethan himself…
In the interest of disentangling a few undergarments, I will begin with the following: THIS IS NOT ABOUT DJs. Well, it is, but not specifically, and when I stood on a bridge and questioned why so many people have (so publicly) taken to the decks in recent years, I was in no way suggesting that people shouldn’t take up the practice. In fact, I believe the opposite. Creative pursuits keep this beleaguered species going, the last winking ember in our thoroughly doused spirit. So why is it suddenly making us so anxious?
To summarise my earlier comments, I believe there are three cultural ‘roles’ that people are commonly divided into, namely ‘producer’, ‘participant’, and ‘observer’. In recent years, as social media has taken over so much of our social lives, the role of cultural participant feels as if it’s fading away. Herded into the opposing camps of producer and observer, we feel increasingly under pressure to appear culturally productive in order to access the spaces where culture ‘happens’. Hence the sudden emergence of an unprecedented number of DJs, photographers, poets, and the ever-nebulous creative.
My worry is that this is driving people into a state of anxiety, and ruining our potential to authentically generate new culture in these spaces. Most people I spoke to agreed with me - whether they worked in the creative industries or not - which gives me a hunch that I’m not wrong. Some disagreed of course (mostly DJs), and a few even seemed personally affronted (there’s that anxiety at play again).
I believe there has, over time, been a transformative shift in how we understand and experience social distance. Pre-internet, especially before social media, most people’s creativity went relatively unobserved below a certain threshold of success. Your work might be famous in your circles or city but little-known outside of that. Today, in our contemporary technocapitalist world, we share our lives and work online in real time to a global audience of potentially unlimited size.
Our algorithms feed us endless images of people doing creative things, creating a hyperreal version of an ever-competitive creative landscape that we feel falsely close to (and thus comparable to). In an economy of relevance that leaves us fearing being left behind, we’re no longer able to engage in creative pursuits purely for pleasure. Instead, we must perform to earn and maintain our place in culture.
So, what’s the solution?
First of all, we need to remember that we produce culture merely by existing in it. The people who are in the photos and dancing to the music are just as important as the people making them; it’s indisputably a symbiotic relationship. And besides, culture also emerges from the everyday. That book club you started with your friends, that’s culture. Seeing the same faces at the pub or the match or the mosque - that’s culture too. Our creativity needn’t only result in tangible products, it’s also there to create shared understanding. Acknowledging the passivity of culture, in my mind at least, helps avoid some of the capitalistic urge towards toxic productivity.
I also think we need to learn to enjoy locality. Culture emerges from the connections between people, and I believe these are always strongest in person. Face-to-face cultural engagement is necessarily participatory, online cultural engagement rarely is. Nearly all of my most fulfilling and exciting experiences, those that have made me feel part of a community or moment, have happened in person. I think the feeling of being surrounded by likeminded people is unparalleled. And don’t tell me you’re an introvert, this is something we all need.
Let’s take more affirmation from the people around us, people who can see us as whole beings and not merely as collections of achievements. A creative practice is not a substitute for living alongside people, for sharing memories and learning from each other. A portfolio is not a substitute for a community.
Thanks for reading! See you next time, or catch us over at @morning.fyi.
yes! not enough people are saying this. not every one needs a 2nd IG for their photos or creative projects. i'm just as guilty but this quote really hit: "Our algorithms feed us endless images of people doing creative things, creating a hyperreal version of an ever-competitive creative landscape that we feel falsely close to (and thus comparable to). In an economy of relevance that leaves us fearing being left behind, we’re no longer able to engage in creative pursuits purely for pleasure. Instead, we must perform to earn and maintain our place in culture. "
Completely agree, you hit the nail with this one