How important are creative partnerships?
I'm convinced they are likely the separation between mediocrity and success
Jean-Michel Basquiat and Andy Warhol. John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen. Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. Jordan Peele and Keegan Michael-Key. Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz.
How many more classic duos can you think of? If not duos, are there people that come to mind, in the grand arena of artistry, that you know have some major influence on someone else’s creative journey? For this week’s newsletter, I really wanted to think about some of the most iconic partnerships and why they are inherently critical to success. But first…
You ever snag a little plump blueberry while bees buzz around and the sweet smell of wet grass wafts in the air? Do it. Find a place. Grab a bucket. Go picking for an hour. Run into a sprinkler like my kids did. Stick your tongue out. Stick a spoon in some honeycomb and eat it. These are the true luxuries of life. It’s the best. Blueberry picking is fucking meditative, man.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a problem
Recently, I started reading Rick Rubin’s new book, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, because it’s a cool-looking book and Rick Rubin definitely looks like he’s plugged into some fantastical undercurrent of magic. Actually, I’ve had multiple people over the last month say, “Oh you’re being so creative HAVE YOU READ RICK RUBIN’S NEW BOOK!?” Truthfully, it was getting a little annoying. But intrigue won over, and as I cranked through 60 pages in about 30 minutes of getting it in my hands, that sensation you get when you’re right on the verge of a tremendously awesome buzz or a summer breeze hitting you as you’re lullabied by a sunset, started to creep in. Rick Rubin is an eloquent and succinct writer, but his reputation as a producer (or “reducer” as he’s called himself because he’s intent on simplifying) rivals any muse in existence, as he’s a person who has built the last mile of greatness for some of the most notable artists in the world (I mean, sheesh).
I began to think about the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the story about Rubin heading over to Anthony Keidis’ apartment, reading a book of poems he’d written, and after noticing a set of captivating phrases, guided Anthony to take the words back to his band and put some tunes to it. Rick Rubin, the punk cousin of the fictional “Dude,” who, in the future, would so effortlessly shepherd Jay-Z through one of his greatest tracks, was like the personification of the Justin Timberlake scene when he tells Mark Zuckerberg in Sorkin’s “The Social Network” to drop the “the” in “The Facebook.”
Except Rubin is a genius and Sean Parker is a tech twat.
The words Keidis took back to Flea and John Frusciante (greatest guitarist ever) were the future lyrics to “Under the Bridge”, a ballad to heroin addiction while simultaneously a tribute to Los Angeles, Ca. In whatever mastery of cosmetic energy awareness Rubin has attained or been blessed with in his life, it’s evident that the man can swiftly ride and adeptly hop on the waves of creativity whenever he wants. He was open. He was engaged. He listened to things. He nurtured.
It made me think: man, I really fucking want a Rick Rubin in my life. Or 10. Don’t we all? Someone who can challenge the magic in my vulnerability, because if there’s one thing I’m seeing with eyes wide open, it’s that solo creative work is incredibly taxing, like eating a whole pot of pasta by yourself: satisfying at the moment until you realize you can’t breathe. Don’t question why you’d do this. You know you understand it. Creativity and the undertaking to make something out of our world is and should be a gluttonous act. And I can’t help but wonder if what many of us are missing is a person who can say, “Here, nurture this instead and stop overdoing it.”
“If you start thinking about doing something to achieve [success], then you’re not focused on making this beautiful thing.” - Rick Rubin during 60 Minutes interview.
Who is in your creative gang?
The latest episode of Smartless featured critically acclaimed director Steven Soderbergh, famous for movies like Traffic, the Ocean’s trilogy (the reboot), and Sex, Lies, and Videotapes. He’s, by all accounts, a force of creative output, making some 30+ films in the last 30 years. At this point in his career, there is a confidence and I-don’t-really-give-a-shit nature to his answers that I truly appreciate. In one sequence during the podcast, Steven Soderbergh talks about his response to a question he always gets from people: should my kid go to film school? His response, or so he says, is always the same: the academics are irrelevant and what’s important is that they need to find their creative gang. School won’t teach them to be filmmakers, but the gang they join will nurture whatever it is they want to make. I don’t remember 95% of the classes I took and the things I wrote in college, but I remember the conversations with my roommate and the late-night coffee shop discussions. I like to think of whatever creative gang as a cohort of creative sparring partners you can entrust to help with creative drills but also rely on them to punch you in the face once in a while because art is both suffering and an act of humility.
I’m looking to get back in the ring.
As always, thank you for all of your messages, likes, and comments. I was recently told this newsletter is a “mood” and it’s the best feedback. It’s going to be a very long road to turning creative work into my everyday work, but slogging away at creative ideas has been the most satisfying work I’ve done in a long time. Happy Sunday.
Vaz is still trying to get me to go to the next next burger spot in the city. I have a feeling it’ll make a Portola appearance. Loved this. And thinking that maybe Pippen’s and Jordan’s partnership was more creative sparring and tension than partnership (at least based on The Last Dance).