Freedom in Art, Freedom in Life
It is my impression that most artists, as artists, have a clear sense that a philosophical conception of freedom as unbridled choice cannot be true. Given the choice to create a work of art with unlimited time and resources, and the choice to create a work of art within a given context — i.e. external or self-imposed constraints/limitations — most artists will choose the latter. Why?
To begin with, the possibility of genuine choice depends, above all, on there being some achievable terminus; that is, some moment at which we can actually make a choice, concretize that which is abstract, or actualize that which is potential, and this presupposes, for the artist, a reasonably narrow set of possibilities for the creative spark to ignite. A vision serves as a kind of constraint on my artistic freedom, elevating one mental image over a multitude of others; and yet, without a vision, I cannot create. A space, a canvas, or a musical structure imposes limitations on my ability to create; and yet, in the absence of boundaries, the creative flame dies. These constraints, once in place, not only serve as the precondition for the first creative act; they also provide the space within which the artist can encounter true freedom, something that is perhaps nowhere better exemplified than in the improvisational performance of a jazz musician:
“The freedom of improvisation absolutely presupposes the grammar of the music in all complexity. To be sure, the improviser of genius tests the rules of that grammar at every turn, challenging their foundations, stretching their outer limits, dissatisfied with conventionality and restlessly seeking new possibilities, new implications. But without those rules, jazz would degenerate into the unintelligibility of random noise, the musical equivalent of what Hegel once called the “freedom of the void,” a freedom that he himself understood to be no freedom at all but simply a pretext upon which to pursue the “fanaticism of destruction.” [¹]
This is perhaps why jazz is often described as a kind of language, an ongoing exercise in improvisation, yet one which could not exist, let alone flourish, in the absence of social conventions having to do with the intelligibility of particular utterances, the principles of its grammar, and so on. Both in art and in natural language, constraints serve as the precondition of, and crucible for, creativity.
It is in the delicate dance between choice and passivity before objective values that the artist finds order and meaning. Herein lies true freedom — in art, as it is in life.
[¹]: Peter J. Steinberger, Culture and Freedom In the Fifties: the Case of Jazz. 1998.
