Wrangling creative intent: How does preparation not get in the way of inspiration, instinct, and improvisation?
Talented and versatile musician Marco Pascolini observed how he and I have been working as creatives for quite some time. We only had a few minutes to chat between sips of beer. This afternoon Marco sat in and played steel guitar with the band Gullywasher at Stockyards Brewing’s Sunday Service. We spoke about the nature of producing and performing creative work so it feels fresh and inspired.
Relying solely on experience and training can lead to producing stale work, tired writing, or an uninspired performance. You follow what you know and fall into a rut. Marco noted that intention is part of the creative process. Defining and understanding the intent impacts the outcome.
Our conversation prompted reflection later about starting a book-length project like Barons, Brewers, and Bootleggers: A Social History of Beer in Missouri.
Gullywasher’s Chris Hudson, Sam Wright, Matt Cathlina, and guest musicians like Marco knew plenty about performing original and cover songs known by heart. Channeling hours of practice, they understood how to deliver a polished song note for note. They knew how to season a song with nuance and improvisation. Skill and instinct has a firm grasp on the reins, enabling them to pursue inspiration – what moves them in the moment – without straying too far from the structure of a song.
Marco’s remark about creative intention reminded me of an NPR story with host Scott Simon. Simon chatted with singer Edie Brickell and musicians CJ Camerieri and Trever Hagen about their improvisational project, Heavy MakeUp, and their album, “Here It Comes.” The trio improvised more than 100 songs and selected eleven for the album.
Camerieri described the openness of the sessions, a willingness to follow Edie’s cues, and see what develops.
“…it was like being on a roller coaster – right? – ’cause she would give us a look that kind of meant, all right, I’m going to go to a B section or a chorus or a bridge here. And we would just have to do that. So we’re improvising song form and harmony and all of this and following her melodies and following the metaphor of the story she was creating on the spot. It’s kind of like a constant musical trust fall,” said Camerieri.
Later in the interview, Simon asked whether Heavy MakeUp’s project as a “creative enterprise” was “somehow railing against so much in the industry that is pre-formed, pre-packaged, pre-fabricated?” Again, this notion of intent lurked beneath the surface.
Brickell said, “No, I don’t feel rebellious about what we’re doing in any way. I just have always wanted to capture the spirit and the energy of music as it’s first expressed because it changes for me every time you try to duplicate the feeling of inspiration.”
Gullywasher and Marco resumed playing. Beers flowed. The audience listened to songs that tiptoed and romped, and people bantered with each other in the background.
Writing a song and performing a song are two different acts, I reminded myself. Similarly, the process of researching and writing a book is separate from a live reading of the published work.
The question still nagged at me though, whether writing a song, a novel, or a creative nonfiction book about beer and history in Missouri. How does preparation not get in the way of inspiration, instinct, and improvisation? I didn’t want to replicate the chronological entries of Kansas City Beer or rehash subject matter in related beer history titles. Now in its third edition, St. Louis Brews: The History of Brewing in the Gateway City has covered that territory.
Like Marco said, it begins with intent.
This fifth book is markedly different from my previous work. I focus on telling stories about people connected to the history of beer and brewing in Missouri rather than center the narrative around breweries. Was Carrie Nation merely a hysterical, hatchet-wielding, rabble-rousing woman or did her life and the state of the nation give purpose to her intentions and actions? How were brothers Gus and Heber Nations connected to Prohibition bootlegging? What barriers do modern brewers like Bri Burrows of The Big Rip Brewing Company face?
I defined the focus to establish intent and direction. In my current research and writing, I examine Missouri’s history through the stories of people viewed through the lens of beer and brewing. I follow instinct and improvise when it makes sense. These stories connect beer to art and architecture, race and politics, technology, wars, economics, and social issues of the times that people experienced past and present.
I realized that preparation doesn’t necessarily inhibit inspiration, instinct, and improvisation. Preparation takes many necessary forms. Musicians and actors rehearse. Film directors need a plan and structure to execute the process. Improv comedians still practice. They run through exercises to hone timing, cultivate ideas and techniques, and assemble a toolbox that can be applied when faced with different variables. Improvisation isn’t completely random, that is.
Brickell, Camerieri, and Hagen drew on their individual and collective experience and skill sets. They relied on tested creative muscles and knowledge of past performances to inform what could work without fully knowing the outcome.
Over two decades of writing, I developed skill sets and tools that have informed my methods but don’t necessarily limit me. This experience isn’t a barrier but instead a solid base. Preparation enables me to follow through on intent. Experience fosters innovation; it provides a foundation to leap after inspiration and pursue instinct.
At the moment, standing to the side of the stage in the taproom of Stockyards Brewing, the music and harmonies of Gullywasher swirled around us. I found inspiration for the introduction to my book. I tapped the words in a note on my phone. To paraphrase Edie Brickell, I wanted “to capture the spirit and the energy as it’s first expressed.”
I caught the spirit, wrangled inspiration into intent, and let the words flow in time to the music before the moment wandered across the West Bottoms.
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