I was not always a fan of Taylor Swift.
In fact, I distinctly remember in high school that I hated her Romeo and Juliet song about something that "obviously" could never work. I mean, seriously those children died. "They're dead Taylor," I said, "this song is stupid, and it was the stupidest love story ever." Then, something happened with You Belong with Me and I started to turn. I was becoming a Taylor Swift fan.
This wasn't a surprise by any means. At the time of my life in which I was criticizing Taylor Swift for imagining such silly things, I was coming to my own conclusions about creative expression. One of the musings I posted previously was about how everything we do in the world is an extension of ourselves. That which we choose to do is a reflection of us, and we should never choose to give less that all of ourselves. My conclusion was that all that we do should be done in love.
I wrote that when I was 18, about 6 years ago. This musing is when I realized that amongst all the love songs and clichéd lines, that she was just practicing something she loved in the same way I practiced my words and sketched what moved my soul. I began to listen to her music more and I loved what I heard. The movement of her compositions matched the flow of the words in a way I could never do. Did I necessarily think she was a better writer than me? No. Could I draw better than her? Maybe. Could she write songs better than I could? Absolutely. I can't write music to save my life.
Through practice do we find better ways we can express ourselves and better wield the tools that let us craft, whatever it is that we chose. I would have once considered myself a very clever writer, and judged harshly those who could only quote others to describe their own thoughts. I also once would have rolled my eyes at someone who showed off their amateur works. Then, I learned something very important.
Creative expression is necessary, and the resulting works may speak volumes for people who don't know how to express themselves, or have not found the ways to do so. For those who continue to find ways that they can speak, the limits are their own imaginations. Skill is no longer a factor in this, as skill doesn't dictate what causes cathartic release, unbridled joy, or unfathomable sadness.
Fulfillment through passionate expression isn't new. Roman and Greek people had written stories and poems with the same intent. Trust me, I've read some very boring Latin fiction and poetry. During the Renaissance, the de'Medici family sponsored the creation of many inspiring works of art. This patronage continued through the Impressionist period and well into the 19th century. Music is no different from this. Composers like Mozart, Vivaldi, Beethoven, names that may be familiar to those who don't even have any familiarity with baroque and classical music.
If you've noticed though, these creators had very rich supporters and very distinct centers of art for their endeavors. Vienna was the center of baroque music, while Rome and Italy is where most people associate the Renaissance movement. New York City itself became a place of innovative art, depending on your "definition" of art. I mean have you seen what dadaism is? If not, look up the Foutain by Marcel Duchamp. When it comes to modern art, most people are familiar with Andy Warhol and his creation of the Campbell's soup labels.
The distribution and consumption of art by "common" people is a recent phenomenon. Prior to the 20th century, art was mostly consumed by those who could afford it. The merchants of Italy, the courts of Vienna, the kings who paid handsomely for their own portraits. Ballets and operas and theater. Even Shakespeare found patronage in the crown, and we still sift through his sonnets centuries later. With the introduction of radio and television, art no longer was limited to the geographical location, but was as consumable as the utilities that distributed them. Jazz music on the radio? The Dick Van Dyke variety show with music? For the first time, the price of admission to enjoy something beautiful became small. Radio is a public good, and basic television is almost there, so we began to see forms of entertainment and expression as the same.
Internet has grown to take much of the audience that TV and radio once did. Remember MySpace? I sure do. Many artists flocked to MySpace to distribute their music and their arts to find patronage. Instead of sponsors seeking artists, it shifted to where the artists now looked for patrons. On the internet, we are the patrons, and the business model has shifted towards artists distributing and work with no promise on payment. The currency is now the amount of views or followers or likes we have acquired through the expression of ourselves on the internet. Everyone's a patron here, but the biggest patrons can influence the crowd.
Networks and production companies are slowly shifting towards the internet to capture viewers and consumers of their product, and artists have done the same. The only quantifiable value is how many people consume it, and who will consume as a result of a work's consumption. A video has a million views, to network producers, that means a million chances an ad will play, and a million more dollars one company will pay over another to increase exposure. But isn't that what artists are doing too? Without the millions of dollars in pay?
This is where Taylor Swift makes a very good point. Last summer she pulled her music from Spotify, after having written an op-ed about the distribution of music, and the importance of relationships between the fans (patrons) and the artists (… artists, duh). Essentially, she believes that the current experience of music diminishes the value of an artists' expression, and we should ask for the value of our expressions.
Really, her movement into NYC is almost symbolic if you think about how NYC is really one of the first places (aside from Paris), where art was made easier for public consumption. Except now, she's taking a stand and encouraging us to demand the value of ourselves. There are many artists who spend hours of practice perfecting their chords and strokes across paper, the arch of their feet as they bend on stage, for the love of it. Why shouldn't those who do find patronage show them what they're worth? People are always willing to pay for convenience, and spend money on people they love by buying things those people love. What makes this different?
But remember, we've been conditioning ourselves for the past century that creative expressions should be free; and the cost of entry to enjoy them is much smaller than it had been in the past. In fact, we've moved towards feeling entitled to the expressions of someone else, because we aren't willing to pay. Concert experiences were once unique, but as it became cheaper to consume television and radio, and with YouTube available to snap shots of different shows, the value of a live performance became lost. The experience was lost.
It's easy to pirate music, and it's easy to print or save a beautiful picture off the internet to look at later. It isn't "worth" paying for something when you can get it for free right? Right. Taylor Swift made an important statement when she refused to put her recent album on Apple's streaming service. She stated they would not be paying artists for sharing their music for free. We "don't ask for free iPhones."
But we also perceive iPhones to be more valuable because the cost to own one is high, while the cost to consume music and art and human expression has become lower and perceivably cheaper. It has added value because of its versatility in use; creative expression exists mostly to be beautiful. Most people are hesitant to move towards paid streaming services because Youtube is "free" and pirating is "free." Pandora's former executive reminded everyone that all streaming services pay their artists, and it's really the status quo of Silicon Valley. Nothing here is momentous or new. Just more of the same.
The artistic centers of Rome and Vienna have shifted from physical places to being the devices we spend hours on, and the services we consume. We all are still patrons and sponsors of these creative expressions, but the value is now measured in views and likes and followers. Our perception gives them influence, so without it they're nothing. It has always been the patrons who dictated the value of an artist, whether in gold or in digital clicks. The difference now is that we've stripped the artistry of the exclusive experience and the relationship between the patron and the artist. Instead, we've severed this relationship with the screens on our phones and removed the breathing, living, loving person who created the music or art we enjoy.
What makes this whole debate interesting is that Taylor Swift has emphasized the importance of valuing art and expression. Realistically, patrons have always dictated the value of art, and that hasn't changed even now. Why does this make what she's saying important? People have always wanted to create, and art has always been the direct result of this. Children draw and sing and dance because they can. Art exists outside of museum and salons; look at the street art that graces different neighborhoods. Sometimes, we don't need to know the artist to appreciate the art. Look at Banksy, who manipulates and commentates on the current condition of the art world through his anonymous exhibits and expressions. In the inverse, human expression has always existed without an audience, I mean look at Van Gogh or Emily Dickinson or the Foxconn worker who also happened to be a poet. (Foxconn helps to manufacture many smartphones and smartphone parts in case you didn't know.)
This debate doesn't have a clear solution, and that's acceptable too. It will always be a dance of patron and artist diminishing or adding value to human expression. Human expression is universal and as permeating as the air we breathe; a need we don't place value on. When we find ways to express our love, sometimes we can't find the words we need, sometimes shared in the first dances of newlyweds. Doing what we love and doing something valuable shouldn't be mutually exclusive; we've just been taught over the course of our lifetimes that it should be.
The refusal to pay for streaming music services is a passive and quiet reminder that we are the products and the audience at the same time. We may be the audience to music, but someone is always watching us too. We are the products to the companies who advertise through these services, and we are the products if we choose to share our content in these ways. Paying for streaming content can help consumers to dictate their experience with a work of art. It's about reestablishing the relationship between the consumption of art, the artist, and us; humans, people.
Ultimately, Taylor Swift is defiantly fighting an uphill battle against a society and consumers who may not understand the price of free; by building a relationship with her patrons. Us. The real world is stacked against artists, and the "free" model is the way to go for consumers. While we groan and gripe about paying more to enjoy music, artists will create in spite of it. Companies ask for money to stream it, really so they can better host it for you, but skew the rewards for the people who generate the content through their own cleverness and creativity.
Regardless of art or employment, what we do has value; it's an extension of ourselves after all. What we forget is the first patron for any work is the performer or creator herself. If she loves what she does, and values what she does, why wouldn't she ask that others value her the same way?
Just remember, it never hurts when you first love what you do.
