In Martin Scorsese’s documentary about Bob Dylan (No Direction Home), one of the folk singers he interviews says that in the early days of the Greenwich Village folk scene the question one musician would ask another, when talking about some other musician, was, “Did he (sic) have anything to say?”. That struck a chord with me because when I look (and feel) at art that’s what I’m looking for: Do you have anything to say?
Another question I ask myself is: Why are you speaking to me? And that question, why?, is a minefield when it comes to the arts.
Do you do it for status? For money? Is it a career choice, one where you’ll subvert what’s really on your mind in order to hit the trendy sweet spot? Maybe (and here we come full circle) you have nothing much to say but have developed a platform to say it.
I hear the word “art” bandied about with almost total abandon, people often call the most banal, crafty busy-work “my art”.
We all know that these days reality seems to be what you want it to be or what you say it is. We decry the fact that for some (invariably the “others”) truth is not truth and “their” perspective and beliefs seem to be based on some totally foreign (to us) foundation. And once (if) we get past our emotional, knee-jerk reactions we wonder why.
I say it’s time to apply that same scrutiny to ourselves, to our motives and to why we say what we say.
Got the proof of After the Fact this week. Looks bang-on to me.
It’s now on the press and I expect to take delivery by the end of this week.
Here’s some pix of the cover and the inside cover with the dust jacket removed . . .
It’s an edition of 200 and already more than 2/3 sold. (Thanks to all the folks who have supported this project.) Get your copy here.