A "Starving" Artist

"Marcus, have you ever had your heart broken?"

I remember my face getting hot and I could tell I was blushing.

"Umm. . .uhhh. . ."

"So I'm guessing that's a no."

I had just played in a masterclass for a conductor with whom I would spend the next two years working with. And, I had no idea what he was talking about! What did having my heart broken have to do with my performance and was it even relevant to my career? I was looking for feedback and ways to improve, not an intrusion into my personal life. Little did I know that this was the first of many strange inquiries that would shape the way I thought, felt, and lived as a cellist.

For those of you who know me now, I'm a math and econ major at the U of MN. I guess I don't talk about it much but I used to be a cellist. It turns out you don't need a degree to be a professional musician. In my case, just some dumb luck, a collection of high intensity teachers, countless hours of practice and crazy hair.

I'm not going to go into details about my artistic endeavors but I would like to share some of the people, places, and ideas that had a tremendous effect on who I was and in turn who I am now.

"Marcus, you can only play great music if you've had your heart broken. Only then can you really understand, communicate and FEEL the music!" I can remember the intensity in the conductor's eyes when he said this to me. This crazy dude seriously believed he was right! I guess I was a naive sixteen-year-old at the time so honestly, I didn't pay much attention to him.

As it would turn out his words stayed with me throughout my time as a cellist. In retrospect, he wasn't suggesting that in order to be a great musician that I needed to go out and get my heart broken, he just meant that I needed to invest myself emotionally with the music. Somehow, this idea ended up intertwined with the notion of a "crazy artist." For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, it's basically the idea that the crazier the artist, the more profound and deep their work is. For example, Picasso cut of his left ear and Leonardo da Vinci slept no more than two hours per night. I actually found an article entitled Are the Best Artists All Crazy? Personally I think the article is a bit one-sided but nevertheless, it's proof that people do resonate with the idea.

So was I a "crazy artist"? It depends on who you ask but in my opinion I was. It wasn't that I was mentally ill or addicted to drugs but had more to do with the lifestyle that I lead. With respect to cultural studies, this "crazy artist" idea is most definitely a Grand Narrative; that being a reputable artists implies that you are in some way crazy.

Again, with respect to my own experiences, I think about practicing until the early hours of the morning, the hundreds of hours spent walking from one end of whatever city I was in to the other thinking about a certain passage in a piece I was working on, the thousands of cigarette butts I contributed to random ashtrays, the isolation and loneliness I felt as a result of my "success" and of course how disconnected I felt from most other people who didn't understand what I was trying to do or why I was doing it.

Now that this chapter of my life is over, when I think about these things I have a hard time not laughing at myself. Did I really have to be "crazy" in order to be a cellist? NO. Did I need to suffer needlessly for the sake of my art? NO! But, even if I had known these things earlier, I cannot honestly say that I would have done things differently. Strangely I found comfort in adhering to the crazy artist ideal and lifestyle. I suppose you could argue that maybe Grand Narratives exists because they not only offer an explanation for how things are, but also what to expect.

So before I became a "crazy artist", I was just a normal kid who took cello lessons. I think this is pretty typical but usually kids stick with what they're good at and what I was good at was cello. It's interesting for me to track my career from beginning to end. It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized I had never made a conscious decision to be a cellist. Coincidentally that was when I decided that I should probably find something else to do. If you really think about it, a lot of our life choices are decided with respect to areas in which we excel. Why are you an engineer? Well I like science and math and I don't like english. Why are you a math major? Well I'm good at math and hate writing papers. These are pretty typical conversations I've had with other CSE students during my time at the U.

I still find myself sticking to what I'm good at when I'm not sure which

choice to make or what direction to go. I don't know if this will ever change

but hopefully, as long as I am mindful of it, I won't limit myself and career

decisions to simply what I excel at.

I think I ranted on enough so I'll skip over places that were important

to me.

Thanks for reading,

Marcus