Documenting Emotion: May 5-12, 2022
The Mission:
Emotions are running high these days.
And with good reason—there are so many things to feel strongly about right now. Strong emotions have plenty of downsides, but they can also be a positive thing. Art is often the by-product of strong emotion, inspired by deep sadness or anger or profound joy that results in something beautiful or powerful in its expression.
This week, difficult though it may be at times, pay close attention to your emotions. When you catch yourself really feeling something—strong anger, happiness, hopefulness, sorrow, love, whatever—stop what you’re doing and capture it in some way—jot down a poem or sketch a drawing, take a photo of where you are right then or record your thoughts. You choose the medium, and you choose whether to literally document where you are in the moment or to make art that shows how you’re feeling then.
Submit the art as-is, or embellished as you like. With the art, submit at least a word or phrase that calls out which emotion you were feeling—feel free to submit more words to describe the situation if you wish. And, given the non-zero chance that this exercise may be triggering, take care of yourselves and each other out there.
The Submissions:
by Heart of Darkness
Work has been rough this week, this month, this year. It has me questioning all things personal and professional and this week was a big trigger point. The only kind of creating that seems to bring any comfort right now is lettering. Something about obsessively repeating the same shapes and lines ad nauseum allows me to turn my brain off and tune the world out. It doesn't say anything and it's not even original - it's just the alphabet. I suppose on some level, there's also a heavy Glenn Ligon influence on this one.
“Selma” - by Captain Quillard
For many years, I have wanted to visit and walk the Edmund Pettus Bridge. I finally got to do it this week as I drove back from New Orleans. It was, as most famous and infamous sites are, surreal to see it in person - that feeling of simultaneously being overwhelmed that you’re standing in a place of significance that you’ve seen a million times through the lens of distance and history, and also underwhelmed at the reality of seeing something in person that has been made larger than life through its media coverage and historical significance and can never live up to expectations.
Still, being there did not fail to conjure strong emotions. I walked slowly and deliberately along the same, narrow sidewalk where John Lewis and many other heroes had walked those three times in 1965, and could vividly see (and in many ways feel) Lewis there in his trench coat, coming over the crest of the hill and seeing the State Troopers waiting at the bottom.
Emotionally, I felt many things: Sadness. Anger. Even fear in the moment as my legs shook walking the sidewalk, only inches from speeding traffic with no barrier between myself and the cars, and inches in the other direction from a low concrete wall I could’ve easily fallen over into the Alabama River. In the moment, I thought about my own sense of fear of the traffic and river, and how it certainly paled in comparison to the terror those marchers felt that day.
But, if I were to boil down all those feelings into the two emotions I felt on that bridge, it would be this:
Hope. And hopelessness.
Knowing the history made me hopeful. It took three tries and several injuries and too many deaths and a million other steps to get there, but eventually the marchers crossed that bridge and made it to Montgomery. Eventually the Voting Rights Act was passed. Eventually the “good trouble” made a dent in what it set out to conquer. But, at the same time, I know all too well the history that has followed, the snail’s pace of progress, the forces working to oppose and suppress, the mindset that has never changed for so many but has recently been given permission to be expressed again publicly, and the present day backslide toward the world these foot soldiers fought to change. Being on that bridge brought hope, but it also was a reminder of how deeply I feel that our country will never heal from these sins, how hard it is to bring about change and how easily those advances can be lost, and how the fight itself must be the reward because the goal may never be achieved, no matter how righteous it may be.
“the practice of medicine” (quarterly appointment) - by Anonymous Frau Redux
by Espy la Copa
by Captain Quillard
Fair warning: this is probably a super nerdy story…
When Aretha Franklin was first starting out, record producers at Columbia Records knew she had a great voice, but they couldn’t quite find the right musical style for her. They’d produced several albums with her singing jazz, pop, easy listening, and other styles, but nothing seemed to stick. No one had much interest in her, and Columbia eventually dropped her. Jerry Wexler of Atlantic Records took a chance on her and picked her up. He had a hunch that maybe the funky rhythm section/backing band at FAME Studios could bring out her potential, so he brought her down to Muscle Shoals, Alabama, for a session, and let her lead it.
Hours went by, and nothing was working. Tension was starting to fill the room, and they were about to throw in the towel and give up, because they couldn’t find the right groove to accompany her voice. While they took a break and everyone was milling about, trying to figure out what to do next, studio keyboardist Spooner Oldham was off by himself, thinking about what he’d heard from Aretha and what might work with it. Suddenly he started playing a riff, and a couple of the guys yelled, “Spooner’s got it!” The band joined in, and Aretha started singing. The song became “I’ve Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You),” which went to number one. That moment launched her career.
I knew this story already as I was touring FAME Studios. At one point during the tour, standing in Studio A where this and a million other moments in music history took place, the guide asked us to all find a place to sit around the studio while he played a few tracks that had been recorded there. I found a seat on a piano bench behind an old Wurlitzer. The guide went through several songs, giving us the feel of what they sounded like in that room, and eventually got around to playing “I’ve Never Loved a Man.” As the song played, he told the story about Spooner Oldham finding the riff that found Aretha’s groove. He then pointed in my direction and said, “And Spooner was playing that very Wurlitzer right there.”
The others on the tour gasped. I got goosebumps instantly and felt myself grinning and getting choked up at the same time. I had no idea what I’d been sitting in front of, and it just kind of bowled me over when the guide told us. For the most part, I don’t believe in magic or think that certain places or things are more special than others. But, whether it’s just me romanticizing and liking to feel like there are locations and objects (especially around music) that just “have it,” or just that the billions of coincidences and happy accidents of life led to a random spot and point in time, there’s just something about it that sparks something in me. Whatever it is, I felt something sitting at that Wurlitzer in that moment, knowing that Spooner Oldham had sat there and found the notes that “discovered” Aretha and generated what may be her best song. Chills.
Next Week’s Assignment:
Paper shapes: Cut geometric shapes out of paper and use them to make art of some kind - a collage, a sculpture, a poster, a pattern - anything you can think of. Use whatever kind of paper you like - construction paper, wallpaper, the envelope from your electric bill, a bumper sticker, etc. The only rule is to use geometric shapes as opposed to free forms.