I have heard this said in a disparaging way, as if it is foolish to aspire to goals beyond one's current limitations, or, put another way, as if one should not aspire to rise above one's station in life. According to an article in The Telegraph (U.K.; 2004), Britain's Prince Charles apparently claimed that "the modern education system went against natural selection and wrongly encouraged people to think they could rise 'above their station.'"
Maintaining the status quo is a pretty sweet deal for those who sit comfortably atop the class hierarchy, but it's not a particularly good deal for everyone else. It also goes against democratic or meritocratic ideals that many societies (including Britain's) espouse, so, no offence to the prince, but I would suggest that aspiring to rise above one's current station in life is natural, and should be encouraged.
Another Englishman, the poet and playwright Robert Browning (1812-1889) perhaps felt similarly when he wrote, "a man's reach should exceed his grasp” (line 97, Andrea del Sarto; 1855) in a remarkably long-winded dramatic monologue about a Florentine renaissance artist whose technique was said to be flawless, but who, according to Vasari, "lacked ambition and that divine fire of inspiration which animated the works of his more famous contemporaries, like Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael." (Wikipedia)
Self-portrait of Andrea del Sarto (1486-1530)
His grasp apparently exceeded his reach; this may be why you have not heard of him.
David, by Michelangelo (1475-1564)
Sculptor, painter, architect, poet, and engineer;
Michelangelo's reach and grasp were huge. Like David's hands.
So, to summarize, Andrea del Sarto was a gifted painter with flawless technique, at least according to Vasari (and to be fair, not everyone agrees with his assessment), but history has not accorded him the exalted status of his renaissance contemporaries such as Michelangelo, perhaps because del Sarto lacked the desire to grasp the unattainable, whereas Michelangelo, like all great artists, had this desire in spades, as well as the technique to make it attainable.
Which brings us to composition.
If you have spent years learning to sing or play an instrument, you probably have a pretty good sense of what great music sounds like. You may also have an opinion of what bad music sounds like; the ability to make these kinds of judgement calls is something we all have, and it is called discernment. Not everyone agrees with our opinions regarding the relative merits of different artistic creations, but the point is that we make these judgements frequently.
One of the potential frustrations for university-age composition students is that, at the beginning of our composition studies, there is often a significant gap between the quality of the music we perform and study, and the quality of the music we write. This is to be expected, of course — the music we perform and study is often written by some of the greatest composers that ever lived, whereas music students are often relative novices and just learning the craft of composition — but it can be frustrating nonetheless.
I will call this the Skill-Taste Disparity. We have developed a sense of artistic taste that allows us to recognize great music when we encounter it, but our compositional skills are not yet sufficiently developed to allow us to create great music.
One solution would be to lower your expectations; if you don't expect to write high-quality music, then you probably won't be disappointed if your compositions are mediocre!
However, I don't suggest you do that…
Instead, I will reference Ralph Waldo Emerson — "Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm" — and suggest that you approach all your compositional work with enthusiasm and intelligence, but understand that it takes time and dedication to eliminate any disparity that may exist between your musical taste and compositional skills.
Lowering your expectations may reduce your frustration levels, but I suggest that reaching beyond your current grasp is essential in order to become an excellent composer, and I encourage any aspiring composer to do this with enthusiasm!
Sure, there is a cost to this — I have done many things in life with tremendous enthusiasm, only to be figuratively have the wind taken out of my sails (or, to use a more visceral metaphor, to be kicked in the head by a mule with remarkably-powerful hind quarters) on numerous painful and doubt-ridden occasions (before the premiere: "This is going to be GREAT!!!" After the premiere: "OUCH! That SUCKED!!! Why did I ever think I could be a competent composer?) — but I don't know how to approach it any differently.
And I truly believe that if you stick with it, you will write very good, perhaps even great, music.
33 comments:
Great post!
I hope that you're right... I sometimes feel like even though I'm trying and trying, my pieces just aren't getting any better. Your Skill-Taste Disparity idea makes sense! I think that's what makes it hard for people to pick up some staff paper and start writing... when you're used to hearing 'the greats' you're set against a pretty high bar!
I really enjoyed reading this post Dr. Ross! I think you're right in saying that as composers we should strive for greatness and constantly try to achieve better results with each piece that we write! I also feel that your metaphor of how the "grasp" sometimes exceeds the "reach" is an important concept to keep in mind. To keep progessing and developing as a composer, I think we need to, using Vanessa's metaphor, consistently set the bar higher for ourselves and try to push the boundaries of what we know we are capable of doing!
What a motivational blog. So great to hear. As soon as I sit here, sniffing with my intensely flu-encumbered nose, I am inspired.
Because it's music (and we think we know music so well by now), we think our compositions should be great. But the thing is, we don't expect to pick up a new instrument and play it great just because we know music.
Your post reminded me of a quote I love and have on my fridge which can apply to a composition with much of a stretch; "Everything will be alright in the end. If it is not alright, it is not yet the end."
I won't lie, throughout this semester I haven't had many high expectations for myself when it comes to the assignments we've been doing. I keep reminding myself that I've never done this before, so nothing great will probably come from any of my ideas. Now that I look back, I probably should have aimed for higher-quality music (even if I failed to meet these goals). This post was very motivational (it's just unfortunate that I read it with only one assignment left to finish!).
Excellent insight and encouragement for a newly beginning composer.
If we do not challenge ourselves how will we improve? Lowering expectations can leave one stuck in a rut. It is important to understand the expertise and experience of the composers whose music we perform to deter discouragement. Setting higher goals provides something to strive for. Even if we are not successful, tools can be developed to increase chances of success next time around. And who knows? You may surprise yourself. As cliché as it is, the phrase “you never know until you try” reflects the experimentation incurred by a new composer to develop their style.
"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm" I felt this quote really rang with me, I've tried composing at 2 am with a pot of coffee coursing through my veins, half asleep, and nothing productive came from it. I find the most productive time that I compose is over the weekend, when I can't be bothered with all the hustle and bustle of the week. With a clear mind, I find it much more satisfying to write music.
I read a quote by Ira Glass and it reads, “Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”
I read this passage frequently to remind myself that even though the music I am composing most of the time doesn't sound like those who I aspire to sound like, eventually, with more experimentation and progress my music with develop a personal style and flair.
This is an interesting entry, and is something that I have grappled with throughout my music school career. As I believe I have said in class (as I am a great proponent of self-deprecation), I am a decidedly mediocre pianist. Before music school, I had no real barometer to measure myself against. However, since hearing performances by some of the amazing pianists at this school, I have come to terms with my mediocrity, though I try to use it as motivation more so than as a crutch. As I attempt to reach beyond my grasp with my playing (i.e. choosing repertoire that is just slightly too difficult to my abilities), so too do I attempt to strive beyond my current compositional capabilities; I often find myself at a point where I know what I want to convey next but I don't know how to achieve it.
Just to add to what is an already tremendously uplifting post Dr. Ross, I think it is also important that perhaps as student composers we should also take note of something that we do particularly well and hold on to it! It may sometimes that we are writing a lot of crap, and that we are not "good" composers. Well of course we're not. Yet. We need to remind ourselves that, and to quote Einstein:
"Everybody is a genius. But if we judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing to be stupid."
Take pride in what we do well. Be enthousiastic. Never forget that we've got a long road ahead of us!
As composers it is really important to keep challenging ourselves, in any field, really. In music especially, whether it is in composing, or learning your own instrument, it is important to continually keep challenging ourselves, we would never know what we are capable of unless we do this.
I can definitely understand this. It isn't like with drawing or even playing an instrument, where you know that a lot of what holds you back is physical technique. Composition is from the mind, so it feels like it should just come out naturally. Of course, that isn't the case. My fear is that I'm going to squander good ideas on compositions that ultimately end up being subpar early in my career. I know that good ideas aren't strictly a finite resource, but I still want to do the best possible with every idea I have, and I know that can't be. Nevertheless, I know that the solution is not to shy away and write less, but to write more and improve. I hope to keep this post in mind when I am inevitably disappointed by some of my work, and hope to remember it when I am at last able to match my skill to my taste!
This was a very interesting post! I believe that in order for us to grow as composers, and as people in any way, we must continually strive to reach beyond our grasps. You cannot grow if you are not challenged, and even though everything you write may not be metaphorical gold, it has value. It may be valuable because it is your best work, or it may be valuable because it demonstrates what you wish to not do anymore, or a direction you wish to avoid in the future. Even if I am disappointed with how many of my pieces turn out, I recognize that I must strive to do better, and that each composition, (disappointing or otherwise) is a building block to success.
I agree completely with this post. I personally look at the music I wrote 1 or 2 years ago and already see much less 'gray area' between what I want to write and what I do write. When we spend all of our time listening to the best examples of music ever written, it is quite easy to think our own music is utter garbage. However we are improving with composition we write and I am seeing some of my classmates creating works that are better and better.
I still definitely have a large 'gray area' in my music which is lost in translation between my brain and the paper, and my music does not possess the 'it factor' that most of the best music possesses in which the music flows so naturally that it almost sounds like it wrote itself. However, it IS getting there and I look at last year's music and see a big improvement, and I can only hope I will see the same improvement next year!
Like every other art form it takes a lot of practice to master it. This also goes for experiencing any “low points” or frustrating periods during the journey of becoming one of the greats. “Exceeding your grasp” to me implies that it can’t be that easy. All great composers must have gone through difficult moments and must have spent hours of practice to refine these masterpieces. Being an undergrad is just the beginning and I hope that with practice I’ll eventually match up to one of the great masters. Great inspiring post!
The concept of Skill-Taste Disparity is a very interesting one. I see a similar effect with older violin students who are just starting out. They do not yet possess the skills to be in tune and produce a clear sound, and it can be discouraging, since they are very aware of their intonation and tone issues, but are still unequipped with the skills to fix them. It takes time for the mental understanding of violin and their motive competence to become aligned.
In my opinion, in order to become better at composition, one must push oneself out of the comfort zone and into the growth zone, which is an area that is not necessarily comfortable, but it is the optimal area for development of style. Though it is perhaps beneficial to be aiming for something that is out of grasp, it is probably not advisable to immediately aim for something that is miles away; this is not promote growth and learning, and it will test the bounds of one's own levels of enthusiasm.
Skill-Taste Disparity is something that I have experienced many times while writing music, but I never had a name for it, it's good to know that most other composers experience it as well. As a clarinet student, I don't usually play music by "great" composers, as there is not much solo clarinet music out there by very famous composers, and if there is it's usually well beyond my level. However, I used to get discouraged a lot when listening to music by Shostakovich, for example, because obviously I am nowhere near as good. I realized that it's not a good idea to compare yourself to famous composers like this, instead you should just focus on making each of your pieces better than the last.
This reminds me of the "Bob Ross, Empowering the Masses, and Fear of Failure" blog post. Many people will reach as far as their comfort zone allows them because of their fear of failure, and seeing this makes me upset. Some people are seen to have pushed much too far, as if they are setting themselves up for disappointment, but those people are the brave and the daring. They will take risks for the things they love in order to be happy or to develop as person or to find the thing that drives them forward with motivation and enthusiasm. I hope I find that passion someday. I feel that sense of Skill-Taste Disparity immensely, and it does affect my motivation and enthusiasm during this degree. As a singer, I can never ever sound identical to another singer, no matter how hard I try and imitate the pros. The voice is such a personal instrument that there has to be a balance of confidence with where you are and how you sound and this burning motivational drive to get better. Having the confidence to say “Ok, I’m never going to sound like Renee Fleming, but what will I sound like if I keep focusing and developing MY voice?” can make you want to keep on your journey and stay excited to find out who you are and how you sound. It is physically unattainable to duplicate Renee Fleming’s vocal folds and technique, but what about focusing on developing your own voice? There is endless potential, 100% attainable goals that may even be exceeded.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this post especially when you talk about the concept of Skill-Taste Disparity. During the time in which I began composing I was never satisfied with what I was writing. I would always scrap my creativity because I considered it to be poor compared to the pieces that I was playing and ones that I listened to. Eventually I learned that I did not posses the compositional technique and knowledge that many of these composers displayed in their works. This became a motivation for me to practice composing more often in my daily life. It became more evident to me that these composers had invested great deals of time into creating the music that I was inspired by. How you talk about going beyond ones grasp instead of lowering expectations is a concept I agree with and can certainly contribute to a person becoming a better composer.
This was an interesting read, Dr. Ross. I absolutely agree that we should constantly strive to push ourselves beyond our current abilities. You present an interesting concept that says we sometimes are not able to keep our ambitions in line with reality. This is an idea that certainly applies to composition, but also many other things. I think that it is essential that we look at our current limitations and try our best to push them and go beyond what we think we are capable of, and this is what any great composer or performer does throughout their entire life. We cannot progress if we do not challenge ourselves to go beyond our current limits.
I find this post very relatable Dr. Ross. Having started learning to perform at a young age, the slow, steady path of progression fraught with setbacks felt natural. I was able to get over my fear of failure (the best I could anyway) and learned to enjoy the progression and the journey, trusting that I would get better with time and that impatience would only lead to frustration. However, having started to compose so much later in my life, I found it hard at first to apply this knowledge to my compositional skills. The skill-taste disparity was evident, and my fear of failure wasn't beaten out of me at a young age. With performance, I know that it takes quite some time when starting a new piece before I come up with something I'm proud of, but because of my experience, I trust that I will eventually get there. When it comes to composition, it's much scarier because I'm not sure how long it will take before I get that feeling, or even if it will ever come. But this post is a great reminder that the act of pushing and the things you learn on the way can be more valuable than the end result. In fact, if you're ever reaching beyond your grasp, then it's actually pleasant to think that there is no end result.
Having grand beliefs in oneself and abilities I think is important. As it was said of the Florentine painter, he did not succeed because he lacked the desire and belief in himself, even if his technique was good. It is true however that starting off in composition, we don't tend to write the best pieces. But even so, I've noticed a difference in my music now than from my music of my first semester. I've learned a lot and have tried to apply it as best I can. Ultimately, patience with oneself is key, and being realistic with one's current abilities is also important, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't believe and dream of the places that you want to progress to. I think your reach should exceed your grasp and in so doing, motivate you to improve.
I find this post very relatable Dr. Ross. Having started learning to perform at a young age, the slow, steady path of progression fraught with setbacks felt natural. I was able to get over my fear of failure (the best I could anyway) and learned to enjoy the progression and the journey, trusting that I would get better with time and that impatience would only lead to frustration. However, having started to compose so much later in my life, I found it hard at first to apply this knowledge to my compositional skills. The skill-taste disparity was evident, and my fear of failure wasn't beaten out of me at a young age. With performance, I know that it takes quite some time when starting a new piece before I come up with something I'm proud of, but because of my experience, I trust that I will eventually get there. When it comes to composition, it's much scarier because I'm not sure how long it will take before I get that feeling, or even if it will ever come. But this post is a great reminder that the act of pushing and the things you learn on the way can be more valuable than the end result. In fact, if you're always reaching beyond your grasp, then it's actually pleasant to think that there is no end result.
I found this post interestingly poignant. As someone who has trained in the arts for their entire life, i've definitely experienced skill-taste disparity quite often with regards to my compositional skill (and I know that it can be quite discouraging). However, after reading this article, I find my perception changing slightly - as I am beginning to understand that this disparity is an essential and necessary evil in achieving greatness.
I believe that if a person lives by the example of Andrea de Sarto, they will become complacent - and complacency is a huge enemy of achievement, progress, as well as artistic and personal development. While it does suck to get the "Wind knocked out of your sails", there is also something to be said for the gratification you get intrinsically for knowing that you tried your best, and you tried with enthusiasm.
It is important to recognize your limitations, but it is equally important to not heed those limitations - to take risks, and to act with passion and enthusiasm despite of your fear and trepidation. This is the only way you can increase your reach, and make what was once unattainable, attainable.
I couldn't agree more Dr Ross. When I first started out composing, I was very frustrated with everything that I was writing, because I would look at the music that I play and wondered why my music would never sound as good as this. It took some time to fully understand that, as you said, we are playing music written by some of the greatest composers who ever lived. Once I got past that stage, I was more calm when I wrote music.
Now, when I write, I try not to compare my music to some that I've either played or heard, unless it is for inspiration. I know that if I stick to my gut, then I'll write a good piece. My prime example for this is when I wrote my 'Music with no melody' piece in comp seminar with you in 2019. At first, I had no idea how to write something with no melody, and whenever I referred to the examples from that blog post, I always got frustrated because it wouldn't sound as good. It was when I got feedback from the class after my first movement of that piece where I actually felt like I was writing something good. Going into that class, I was talking to some colleagues saying "I'm presenting, but it's not going to be good." Once I got the feedback, I realized that if I just stuck to my own ideas and processes, I could write something worth listening too. In my opinion, that piece is the best one I've written.
The idea that people should not seek to rise above their station is quite frankly ridiculous to me. The fact of the matter is, people actually do this often. My mother, for example, grew up quite poor. She tells me that when she was younger, the only time her and her siblings would receive a new toy of any kind would be on Christmas day, when they would get a new colouring book. When she finished school, she worked to put herself through trade school and nearly starved several times in doing so. Now, for Christmas, she asks for supplies to clean her $200,000 truck that she values so much because she worked so hard to get it, along with all the other things she has in her comfortably middle class life.
I've also read that people all over the world are increasingly rising to new heights socioeconomically, according to statistics.
If you never reach for anything, you'll never have the motivation to get to anything greater. This is true in many areas of life. I often have compositional ideas that I don't believe myself to be capable of realizing, but if I think like that, I will never improve to the point of being able to realize them. It's natural and human to want to improve yourself and reach for things beyond your grasp.
After reading this post, Dr. Ross, I remember a quote my good friend, Grace Nolan, said in a MUN music article a few days ago... "The answer is always no if you don't try." In life, I have so many big dreams. But, on the other hand, I feel I can't achieve them. I think it is important to set goals for yourself. Tiny goals, over time, can lead to the achievement of much bigger goals. There is always more that can be done in life. But, it is important to celebrate the little things. Like, sitting down at the piano to improvise, if only for 2 minutes. By doing that, I tapped into my creative mindset, and may come up with a beautiful melody one day, who knows? But yes, it is so important to set goals for yourself, and like Grace said, the answer is always no if you don't try.
I really loved this post, Dr. Ross. I think this was my main concern when enrolling in this course, that my music wouldn't be good enough. We are surrounded by the "best" and most "beautiful music" every day, study it day in, day out during our degree. So it is less than fulfilling when you begin a composition and you know it doesn't sound great. And "what am I doing wrong?" I ask myself. As a type A person who likes lists, instructions and math, I have come to realize that composting is not like this. I am trying to let my creative juices flow, take instruction and produce the best work I can.
However, my music is not nearly as great as the music I sing/study. I love the idea of lowering your own personal expectations.. kinda like a snow day. Let me explain; if you expect a snow day and don't get it, you are sad, pack up your backpack that you didn't think you needed the night before and trudge to school without your work done. However, if you pack your backpack the night before, finish your work and then wake to find out you have the day off, it is a much better feeling! I definitely need to lower my expectations with my compositions. But then again, I like a challenge and do think it is important to reach for the stars and really set your goals high. It is a challenging line to draw.. a line between frustration and complacency that I am still trying to find a balance of.
I definitely agree with the skill-taste disparity. While I'm developing my compositional skills I never quite feel like my compositions turn out like I expect them to. While this can be frustrating, I usually view it as a good thing. I enjoy surprising myself when I compose my music. I don't like planning out exactly what I'm going to do because it makes composing more interesting. Of course it's important to do some planning. I've found that setting rules for myself when writing has been very helpul for organizing my work. Writing certain chords I want to use or writing in certain modes has been very helpful in this way.
While I still have my skill-taste disparity, I use it as a tool to explore new ways of composing and improving my craft.
Also, on the topic of that one Prince that said people shouldn't try and rise above their material conditions, I'm not suprised. I always knew the royal family had some of that old school outdated philosophy that made them think that they deserve the wealth they have over the people they are supposed to represent.
I find the skill-taste disparity very applicable to composition, and performing music. I find that most of us studying music know more than enough music theory to write hit pop songs or pretty good compositions in the classical world. I think it comes down to our ability to execute and put our ideas and knowledge into a presentable product to be the tricky part. As someone who loves playing Jazz music for example I find I can look at standard from the real book and say: Ok I can use this lick over that chord and the half whole diminished scale over that chord but when it comes down to actually playing it with other people there is a huge difference between what I know and what I can actually do. Sometimes by the time I think of what I should play multiple chords have gone by. Other times I may hear an idea in my head and think: Oh wow this is gonna be so cool! Only to find it might sound bad in real life.
I always try to remind myself that it is not meant to be easy, and while I love music and wouldn't want to do anything else I would be lying to myself if I said I enjoy every second of it. I get frustrated quite frequently but I do not let those temporary emotions sabotage something deep down I know is important in the long term. Prince Philip can hypothesize all he wants from his comfy quarters but perhaps he isn't the best person to get advice from when it comes down to our lives!! At the end of the day the skill-taste disparity is normal and is part of what humbles us as artists and I know it probably is not going anywhere anytime soon.
Thanks for this Dr. Ross! I sometimes find at the university level, it at least feels as though you're meant to be perfect straight from the get-go. It's so encouraging to read you write about the process of being unhappy with the product in the beginning (or even much later) and developing your skill over time. I guess, since I learned my instrument and the rudiments of music theory and performance etc at such a young age, it's hard to remember the starting from scratch feeling and my other work (such as applied study) feels like refinement and a continuation of learning. While right now (in my first weeks of my first composition course) I'm feeling a little bit like I'm taking shots in the dark about what I think *might* work out. This feeling is frustrating however, it does force me to explore music-making in different ways which I think makes a more well-rounded and intentional musician - this I am grateful for. I'm realizing that we learn most from the growing pains. I love what you said about the skill-taste disparity, and I certainly find it to be accurate however I also notice my taste broadening and diversifying which is a cool part of this learning-curve!
I think the term “skill-Taste Disparity” was perfectly suitable, and I don’t think it only exists in composition. However, I guess it is highly necessary for any field, and as you pointed out, instead of a cause of frustration, it can be used as a motive force to push people forward. There should always be a gap between one’s desired self and what one currently is, and being conscious of that gap is what causes progress. That’s why I never understand the life coaches who tell people they need to believe they are enough the way they are. This way, there will not be any room for progress.
In music, a helpful piece of advice that I’ve heard from my applied instructor was that after playing any musical phrase, I must imagine how I ideally want it to sound, and compare it to how it currently sounds like. Then, I must employ my technical skills to eliminate that gap, instead of letting my current technical skills lead me. In composition, I guess it is more complicated, because we might feel like it does not sound well, but we might not be sure about how we want it to sound (If we’d known, then obviously we would have written it). However, I can see how being idealistic and aiming for perfection can push us forward, while it is also vital to be nice and patient with ourselves.
This piece that I just composed for composition seminar, "Disquiet" did feel at times like it was way over my head. I couldn't use all the complex tropes that I usually do as I planned to write in a more simplistic manner and wanted to develop my skills at certain subtle areas to better my skills as a composer overall.
I found it challenging to not hide behind complex rhythm and it does show up but for the most part I was focusing on simplistic musical and most importantly singable lines. How I went about creating something unique and something that would guide me is that I created a few rows to express in the development section of the piece but to go only faintly by the prime row for the rest of the piece. I then created a almost circle of fifths motion to create interesting destination points and pitch material to work with.
The whole time I was like, this will turn out horribly but I kept going and worked hard and decisively and got over the in over my head feeling that I felt. I am proud of what I did now.
This is an interesting line of thinking for me to consider. Within the scope of my personal experience, I cannot yet imagine being in a position of such privilege and technical facility that my grasp should exceed my reach. It is certainly the opposite phenomenon which seems to me to be more common.
Having said that, I believe that for one to have a grasp which exceeds their reach is not in the least way a bad thing. Whereas reach > grasp will quite likely lead to an artist producing works with some evident level of technical or expressive naivety, an artistic imbalance of grasp > reach would not in the least hinder an artist from producing works of a marked technical integrity.
Certainly, it may well be that more ambitious ventures in scale, medium etc. may give an artist a better case for historical or popular recognition, or possibly even lead to tremendous aesthetic advancements within their field. But are any of these so much more of a virtuous end than others? Is the artist who simply takes pleasure in plying their trade, producing smaller, unpretentious works in the fullness of humility any less than those who aspire to notoriety? I should certainly hope not.
I totally agree with this post. For example, I'll listen to great piece of music, other it is a composition, or a song on the radio, I'll think to myself "this sounds great! Why can't I make something like this?" But making music that refined takes a ton of practice, you really have to put in the work! This also applies to going through any low points or discouraging times while trying to make music. To me, exceeding your grasp suggests that it can't be that simple. Every great composer must have experienced hardships and practiced for hours in order to create such music. I know if I work hard, ill be able to make the music that blows me away.
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