Photo by mtkr — Some Rights Reserved

If only creating art was as simple as following a few rules.

Elmore Leonard has tried to make writing simple in his 10 Rules of Writing. (For example, “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip”; and, “Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said” . . . he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin.”)

Art is usually about breaking rules. Still, you need to know what rules you are breaking. Moreover, there is comfort in knowing that current and past masters have left trails to their success.

Following on Leonard, The Guardian has expanded the list of those ready to jump into the inspiration/admonishment pool. For your work, or at least your reading encouragement, here’s a brief selection from their sampled writers:

Margaret Atwood:
You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but essentially you’re on your own. Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine.

Roddy Doyle:
Do not place a photograph of your favourite author on your desk, especially if the author is one of the famous ones who committed suicide.

Anne Enright:
Only bad writers think that their work is really good.

Richard Ford:
Marry somebody you love and who thinks you being a writer’s a good idea.

Jonathan Franzen:
The reader is a friend, not an adversary, not a spectator.

David Hare:
Never complain of being misunderstood. You can choose to be understood, or you can choose not to.

P.D. James:
Read widely and with discrimination. Bad writing is contagious.

And, from our collective past masters, words to live by:

Anaïs Nin:
The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. 

Anton Chekhov:
Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.

G.K. Chesterton:
A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its author.

Nathaniel Hawthorne:
Easy reading is damn hard writing. 

Jack London:
You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club.

Vladimir Nabokov:
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.

Sylvia Plath:
And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.  The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. 

Isaac Bashevis Singer:
The wastebasket is a writer’s best friend. 

Mark Twain:
Substitute “damn” every time you’re inclined to write “very;” your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be. 

And, for the perfect Catch-22 on the art and technique of writing:
Every writer I know has trouble writing. Joseph Heller

- Bill Reichblum

Photo by Amy Goodman — Some Rights Reserved

Harald Himsel provides a new blog post on his project to capture the music, legacy, and influence of Cuba’s Silvio Rodríguez. (See Harald’s first post.)

Rodríguez was one of the founders of Nueva Trova Cubana in the sixties. Today, he is one of Latin America’s leading musicians with festival fans all over the world. Himsel is a German documentary filmmaker, who is also the managing director of a consultancy firm that works in developing countries.

I am sitting in a very comfortable chair in the lounge of the Habana Libre waiting for Michael to finish his Internet session in the business suite. Michael Hornstein is a renowned jazz musician, one of the best sax players in Europe, the co-producer of this documentary, and my friend. It is said that the hotel has the fastest internet connection in Cuba. This may be true, but it still takes Michael ages to download his emails from the server.

Picture the Habana Libre just over 50 years ago: the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista supported by the italo-usamerican mafia plundering and exploiting country and people is about to draw its final breath. Nonetheless, Conrad N. Hilton, the owner, opens the Habana Hilton Hotel with a glittering party. It is March 22, 1958. For more than a year, guerilleros led by Fidel Castro are fighting the Batista regime. Despite the support of the USA, the guerilleros have gained ground. The old regime will collapse within the next nine months. Fidel Castro enters Habana on January 8, 1959. For months he will lead the country from his new headquarters: the Habana Libre.

In the cafeteria, the waiters are dashing between the chairs, serving coffee, lights snacks, soft drinks, and rum. There is something different. Photos on the wall depict the days when Fidel and his comrades were the only guests — tired, exhausted, and sleeping. His brother Raul Castro, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, and Camilo Cienfuegos never stayed in the Habana Libre due to security reasons. The suite from which Castro led the country for three months escaped the hotel’s modernization in the 1990’s. The suite is left in its original state, but not open to the public.

When Fidel Castro moved into the Habana Libre, Silvio Rodríguez Domínguez was just 12 years old. He was was born in San Antonio de Baños, Cuba in November 29, 1946. His parents were tobacco workers. In 1961 he joined the alphabetisation programme, one of the great achievements of the Cuban revolution. In 1964 he was drafted, and during his time in the military, he started his musical career singing for his fellow comrades. This musical development culminated in 1967 when together with Pablo Milanés and Noel Nicolá, Silvio Rodriguez formed a new Cuban style of music, the Nueva Trova. The songs are messages of life, joy, love, sorrow and death; the songs are about the Cuban people, the revolution; the songs would become known all over Latin America; the songs that would encourage the resistance fighters during the unbearable years of Franco dictatorship in Spain. These songs of freedom, liberty and justice are the songs which many artists in Cuba subscribe to and demand for themselves now, in Cuba today.

Silvio is still a star, playing in front of tens of thousands in Cuba and throughout Latin America. He has produced twenty CDs, the latest soon to be released. His songbook has close to a thousand pages. Silvio has performed all over the world, except for one country. Last year Pete Seeger invited Silvio to come to America to celebrate his 90th birthday with him. Silvio was unable to come: the US denied him entry.

Michael is back from the martyrium of slow Internet access. Before traveling with me to Habana he finished his new CD. The long email exchange has been about the CD cover. He sinks into one of the huge fauteuils, orders a coffee while I switch to a Margarita.

Later on that day, Michael and I will visit Santiago Feliú, a singer/songwriter, a virtuoso at the guitar, a performer par excellence. Silvio was his mentor. Santiago plays for us La Vida, a song, which has stayed with me, and will stay with me forever.

- Harald Himsel

Photo by Sybilla Poortman — Some Rights Reserved

Good news: Live theatre discovers digital distribution.

As featured in last week’s KadmusArts News feed, a new initiative at On the Boards is helping “progressive contemporary performances” reach a wider audience. In a not-for-profit venture, OntheBoards.tv selects performances to record in HD and distributes them via a pay-per-view network. The producing theatres and artists share in the proceeds.

Unfortunately, the knee-jerk response to the news was that this initiative will lead to a further decrease in audiences for the live event.

Can’t they hear the music?

The music industry has certainly learned that digital downloads increase the live concert business, both for the big rock ‘n roll arenas, as well as for the smaller venues and clubs. Bands can build audiences through digital platforms. The reason live shows do well is that they provide a better experience — a real show — than listening in the privacy of one’s home or earphoned head. Just ask Lady Gaga.

Classy music, though, is an example of misunderstanding the business. After all, this is an industry still reeling from vinyl. Until the classical musical profession figures out a way to enhance the concert going experience (creating an attractive context for the music and the ticket prices), the recorded product will continue to provide a better value experience. In other words, they need to convince us that there is a reason to hear it live.

The problem, then, is not with the format but with the event.

Not too long ago, I saw a production at one of the theatres that is part of the OntheBoard.tv network. The piece was a series of monologues. One actor at a time came down stage center, delivered a monologue about overcoming an obstacle in the character’s life, and then returned to a folded chair upstage. The script was as predictable as the actor’s delivery. There was nothing in this event that demanded a live component — from the actors or the audience. We would all have saved time, money, and convenience if we had read the monologues at home — or fast forwarded through a recorded show on TV.

The artistic responsibility, then, is to create a work that demands to be seen live. The digital distribution can act as a kind of tease: you know you aren’t experiencing the full effect of the work because you aren’t there. Anything that works better as a televised event probably should stay as a televised event.

This performance initiative will not only create a valuable archive of accomplished performance work, but more importantly deepen the current connection to audiences — and reach new audiences.

Digital distribution might even help make better live performance artists.

- Bill Reichblum