Weaving connections: the heart of artistic success
15 October 2024Connection. That is all we really want as human beings - a sense of belonging. But what happens to the artist when they lack the support systems that help others succeed?
A few weeks ago, I attended a creative research symposium. We began with a beautiful pōwhiri, an induction into the community if you will, followed by presentations of creative projects, each with a unique twist. I was in awe of how passionately each presenter spoke, their words echoing throughout the room and holding everyone’s attention.
For me, this was a first. I had never experienced a space where creative work was discussed with such enthusiasm and professionalism. There was no trace of the usual condescension often associated with creative endeavours; instead, everyone genuinely engaged with each project, regardless of their domain. It was a truly beautiful and eye-opening experience.
One presentation stood out to me above the rest. It was music-related, but what actually drew me in was Jon Clarke, a brilliant musician who incorporated his whakapapa into his practice. While the word “whakapapa” doesn’t translate perfectly, it refers to one’s genealogy and interconnectedness. Jon presented a slide with sporadic dots accompanied by names, with his mother’s name prominently in the center. These names presented the individuals, who had been most instrumental in his music career - or his passion for music. As he connected the dots, he created a visible web that initially seemed to have too many gaps. However, as he continued, more names were added, forming a nearly unbreakable network. Jon believes that without this web of support, his journey would have been vastly different.
Listening to Jon’s presentation was both overwhelming and enlightening for me. His passion and acknowledgement of his family and friend’s role in his success highlighted a stark contrast to my own experience. I often felt alone in my artistic journey, marked by the absence of my familial encouragement. I couldn’t help but wonder what my path might have looked like had I enjoyed that same foundation of support.
This reflection made me consider my own journey and how long it took me to transition my music from a hobby to a career. The biggest barrier? Fear. Fear of failure and fear of success. In either case, I needed support - a safety net, if you will. But because my safety net wasn’t as solid as Jon’s, I felt uncomfortable taking that leap. I even struggled to admit to myself and others, my desire for a career in the arts. If the roles were reversed, how would Jon’s life look now? And if I were in his situation, would I have felt safe enough to pursue music with a support system in place?
I find myself with so many questions. While I wish my life had unfolded differently and that my net was as sturdy as Jon’s, I believe my experiences have shaped me as an artist. This leads to another question: Would I have been able to create the same level of art without the pain that comes from a lack of support? I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m grateful to be in a space where I can ask these questions without fear of ridicule now. I’m happy to explore these thoughts in an environment of acceptance. Although this kind of environment is what has been missing all along, I believe it arrived just when it was meant to.
In New Zealand, everything is about connection, and that’s what I love most about this beautiful country. People and communities are intertwined. Their sense of community is intact, and their values often align with my own. While this isn’t universal, it reflects a majority. This deep-seated belief in connection and individual potential is beautiful, but it also fills me with sadness - sadness over what could have been, sadness for those in my community who lack support, and sadness over a culture shaped by past injustices that has overshadowed the importance of connection.
A way forward? Honestly, I don’t know. What I do know is that with each passing day, I strive to do better because, at the end of the day, that’s all we can do: try. Here’s to surviving the atrocities of the past. Let’s honour the resilience of our ancestors who have brought us to this moment for these vital conversations. Here’s to those who continue to wake up every day and make the world a little better than before.
Until next time - keep the music alive and buzzing.
Carnita Bee
