We all have our personal heroes – or at least we should. Many of my friends and I lost one of ours this past weekend when Dame Maggie Smith died.
I’ve been a fan of hers since teenhood, a devoted “follower” since my early 20s. She could brilliantly do comedicly what I longed to do – deliver a dry, acerbic punch line with skill and amazing precision.
When I learned that she had had the good fortune to work with the likes of Noel Coward and Lawrence Olivier and spent her formative years performing in revues (an art form that also heavily shaped me), I understood the opportunities that allowed her to hone those skills. So I shamelessly studied her techniques at a distance.
And, of course, she was equally at home in a drama, Shakespeare to present-day. She had a clear command of the English language – both on stage and off. Listening to her in interviews, I noticed that many of her off-the-top-of-her-head quips were comparable to the best scripts she was given to perform.
I wanted that – not the fame, but the skills – the quick wit, the sharp tongue, the command of language.
Even in my 20s, I was already aware – and would often say – that what I wanted in my connection to performing arts was not the Fame but the Forum. I wanted to reach a large audience in order to share good/rare music with the general public. I wanted to create my own songs that said things I wanted to say to the world. I was passionate about it.
In the 40 years since realizing that, the passion hasn’t diminished…..but some of my optimism has.
The inevitable retrospective of her life’s work has come with Maggie’s passing. She’s been celebrated all over social media, but I happen to own roughly 50 DVDs of her films and stage performances, and my wife and I celebrated her by watching several of our favorites in the 48 hours after we heard her run had come to its end. And as I watched that life’s work, I once again thought, “I want that!”
I want to leave behind a body of work that comforts and inspires… that entertains completely, and forces one to contemplate their own life choices in challenging moments…. that offers honest moments from Life to those watching/listening so this experience of living is accurately captured.
Those are still the goals I have as an artist.
But I’m not anywhere close to having the recognition of Dame Maggie Smith. I’m not Sinatra, I’m not Streisand. I’m not Cole Porter or Johnny Mercer, or Dolly Parton. (Yes, as a songwriter, Dolly belongs in that company). Outside of a few devoted followers, many of whom are also friends, I have no public recognition as an artist. Who will care about my body of work when my run on Earth comes to an end?
What exactly has been the point of living my best artistic life seeking Forum not Fame?
My brain has taken this train of thought many times before.
And each time it does I find myself immediately reaching for two truths that my ego seems to need reminding of: Van Gogh sold ONE painting in his lifetime, but he kept painting anyway…; I have made an impact with my artistic output – it has not been all for naught. I just have not received the Fame that I’ve spent decades saying I wasn’t interested in gaining.
I’ve not wasted my time.
Looking at the myriad of successful lives my former students are living (again – “success” does not mean “famous,” but that they’re happy and the world is better because they’re in it), I know what I’ve contributed as a teacher over 40+ years has been a benefit to Humanity.
Looking back at my 50 years of creating musical shows, directing plays & musicals, arranging & orchestrating for other performers, and introducing audiences to things they would not come across otherwise – my efforts have left a positive impact, most probably in ways I will never know.
It took me until I was nearly 60 to feel comfortable with myself as a songwriter – to believe in the value of my voice as a writer and vocalist.
For decades, the standard I held my heroes to wasn’t anywhere close to what I thought I could achieve. But I just completed recording/mixing all the songs for my 11th CD as a singer/songwriter/entertainer. I’m one song mix away from completing my 12th and 4 songs away from completing my 13th. They don’t sell well, particularly now that CDs aren’t in fashion – some do “ok” on streaming services, but some (often the ones I think are best) are hardly noticed.
But like Van Gogh, I make my recordings anyway – I write what I need to say and record them so that they’ll be there and available for anyone who stumbles on them at some point, whether I’m still alive or not.
Is it possible to leave behind a Maggie Smith-esque body of work without having achieved the Forum her Fame provided? Absolutely. In reality, that’s what most artists do.
Most do not rise to that level of recognition. But we produce our art anyway – because it is what we do, who we are, why we’re here.
In ruminating on this earlier today, I stumbled upon a song I treasure created by singer/songwriter Janis Ian, another of my heroes. Parts of that song capture my bottom line on this better than anything I could create, so I’ll summarize with her lyrics:
“Some [people] really move across the stage, and gee, they sure can dance.
I guess I could learn how if I gave it half a chance,
But I always feel so funny when my body tries to soar
And I seem to always worry about missing the next chord.
I guess there isn’t anything to put upon display
Except the tunes, and whatever else I say.
So if you don’t lost patience with my fumbling around,
I’ll come up singing for you – even when I’m down.”
(“Stars” by Janis Ian (c) 1974 Mine Music Ltd & April Music Inc.)
