The Art Spirit

West Coast of Ireland, Robert Henri, 1913

I hope that all of us have experienced, or will experience, working with a teacher whose impact is undeniable in our viewpoint and life. I’ve been lucky enough to have several who sparked an immediate recognition of the gravity and importance of what they were teaching and of its relevance to my life.

These teachers are unique - made up of just the right combination of humility, wisdom, ability, and communication. Being in the same room as them makes you feel as if you might absorb some of their knowing just through proximity.

I think many creatives aspire to be this type of teacher (although I suspect it might be something you simply are, or that you become over time through experience and experimentation). There are many books and memoirs written by artists, choreographers, producers, musicians, and dancers that lay out their views and methods, solidifying their impact for future generations. I think many of these books fall flat of what it was actually like to be around these artists in person, or in some circumstances by reaching too far to create a lofty picture of their impact.

But every once in a while, you stumble on a resource that is a gem, the same as you stumble upon a teacher in real life who will change your whole outlook.

Earlier this year I went to my local library’s “big book sale” - a fundraiser that happens annually for three days where thousands upon thousands of used books are for sale to raise money for the library system. I spent hours browsing the tables lugging an increasingly heavier reusable bag full of treasures behind me. I stuck mostly to books I had been hunting for, authors I knew I liked, or books I wanted to own my own copies of that I had originally borrowed from the library. I did pick up a couple of wildcards, and I finally cracked one of them open in the last few weeks.

The Art Spirit chronicles the teachings of Robert Henri through notes and transcripts of his teaching. It opens with a few powerful quotes and a little context about Henri who was an accomplished painter in his own right and led a dramatic revolt against American academic art. He was known for being a charismatic and natural teacher.

Shortly after I started reading, I realized I was dog-earring every other page. What I really needed was a pencil. At some point, I was so busy scribbling in the margins that my husband inquired if I was reading a book or writing one. I couldn’t help it - there were so many connections to be made between what Henri was saying, painting, art, making music, and being a musician.

The Reader in the Forsest, Robert Henri, 1918

I suppose all of this serves as a recommendation to read The Art Spirit, but my point in writing here, by way of this long introduction, is to share an example of the transferability of great teaching:

In his Letter to the Class, Art Students League, 1916 Henri offers a “process of making a study” to the students that he “might or might not” use himself, reminding them that there are many ways to work, and this suggestion is only one of them. The particular method he goes on to suggest is advantageous, he says, because it is economical with paint and because it allows the artist to accomplish design and drawing first leaving the development of color for the end of the work, allowing the student to separate two difficulties.

He suggests beginning by designating the major areas of the work. In a painting of a bust it might be the head, chin, neck, tie, coat, etc. In a piece of music, we might identify areas by tempos, motives, dynamics, or climactic peaks and valleys.

Henri encourages us to devote ourselves to creating the finest design we can possibly make from only the necessary foundation.

I covered these pages of the book with highlights and scribbles as I turned over the implications of this method on learning a new piece of music. How often do we simply start at the beginning and crash our way through something new, playing blindly as we aim for right notes and rhythms but missing the entire form, feeling, meaning and structure of the piece? What would be changed if stepped back for a wide angle view first to build our interpretation and foundation before we even make a sound?

Moving forward with this method, Henri suggests that only once you have established the design from the foundation should you create your color palette. Here, though, he tells not to go all in with our colors, but to try them in miniature. When applied to a piece of music, this might mean testing out tone colors, articulation styles, vibrato speeds, etc., and then with great attention to detail applying those to just the first statements of major motives or melodies.

In Henri’s words, “In making these notes you will find advantage in trying them out by assembling them, maybe several times, in a miniature picture on the palette, until you are sure you have made the most distinguished assemblage possible in this way….which, assembled, will give the clarity … and the richness and contrasting power of the darker notes… The palette presents in a general way precisely the notes that are to be employed in the picture.”

At this point in the process, Henri says, the palette itself already looks like the subject and will allow you to lay down the rest of the elements with a greater attention to their fullness and purity than might be possible in your usual method. Indeed, if we look at this from a musician’s perspective, we could move from the establishment of tone, mood, articulation and form to spread the details we have discovered over the entire piece. For most of us, this is the opposite of our usual approach where once we have hammered out all the notes and rhythms we try to step back and discover their meaning, their form, and their direction and energy.

What are we missing by leaving the details for last? This is what Henri is asking us to consider (while subtly encouraging us to be attentive to the details of our fundamentals).

He says, “My suggestion that you might use such a mode of set palette is addressed to you after seeing you at your work, gathering somewhat your aims, and observing your need of a more simple process in the doing of what you are trying to do.”

A true teacher, Henri had observed the students taking a complicated route toward the development of a lofty goal and noted that they would be served by a simplicity that allows them to think more deeply and trust their instincts more fully.

There is a tremendous amount to be learned from musicians, but as creatives we would do well to remember that any discipline can teach us the way toward trusting and growing our artistic instincts and coming closer to a true expression of what is in our minds and hearts.

I’ll leave you with Henri’s take on the simplistic approach I’ve shared:

“I think you will see that by this detached painting of the picture on the palette in terms of color and of value, freed from the struggle with drawing, you will be able to weigh the powers of the colors and values; to establish the harmonies and contrasts; to become simpler; clearer; more positive in your transitions and to have, when the palette is thus set, a free mind to deal with the designs of forms, drawing, and the characterization.”