Is there such a thing as a do-it-all artist?

Master of all trades, jack of none.

Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich (1818, Source: Wikipedia)

No. 111: Is there such a thing as a do-it-all artist?

I admire people at the top of their game, whether it be athletes, artists, or business people. In most cases they represent what’s required to achieve a similar standing, traits like dedication, discipline, consistency, and a deep love for their thing. 

But I keep running up against a question when it comes to masters.

Is mastery a single-discipline phenomenon?

As many of you know, I write. But I like to express myself in other ways, too. 

Long, long ago, when I was but a middle school lad, I started a YouTube channel called Bullet Nose Productions where I shared skateboarding videos and other shenanigans. The process of capturing footage, editing, and generally filmmaking has always been lovely, and I followed the thread into my first year of college (Media/Communications), falling headfirst into the world of film and photography. 

Then there’s music. I feel stupid when I say I love it, because don’t we all? But here I mean playing music. It’s a saga that goes back to piano lessons in a dim room with a strict teacher; playing the fifth grade talent show with my brother — two-man band (me, guitar, him, drums) with a penchant for Green Day covers; middle school marching band, where I played trumpet (and performed at Disneyland and got to see the backlot, no biggie); forays on the ukulele, synthesizer, and acoustic guitar; and lately, my love for mixing, production, and beatmaking.

My brand spanking new-to-me Machine MK3. The possibilities are endless . . .

Maybe I’m the outlier, but I find it hard to believe other creatively-inclined people don’t also have artistic pursuits beyond their “main thing.”

Where are they? 

As I’ve come to recognize the likely all-consuming nature of becoming great at a given thing, I’ve likewise started to question the plausibility of becoming great at many things. 

Surely, it’s possible.

I think?

Then I look around at artists/creators I admire and see them mostly making a splash only in the pond they’ve claimed as their own. Which isn’t to take away from that massive achievement. That’s freaking incredible. But does their apparent need to specialize suggest their dedication is so complete there’s no time for a second, or third, field? 

A couple of weeks ago, I got laid off.

Not a cue for pity. 

I’m a college-educated, white-passing guy in the United States of America. I’ll be fine.

I bring up my axing because it’s made me realize, yet again, my goal of getting to a place where my income comes entirely from my artistic endeavors — to be self-sustaining not as an entrepreneur or business owner in the traditional sense, but as a creator. 

One of those endeavors, of course, is writing, and I’m aware that it’s probably that with the most promise. 

But I wonder. 

How excellent would it be to spend my days not only writing, but making music, snapping pictures, making films or YouTube videos? Not to mention, from an economic POV, the more sandboxes to play in, the better.

Talking like that, however, makes it seem like I view these as easy.

They are absolutely, positively, whole-heartedly not. In fact, it’s probably more stressful to be a full-time creator than to work a supplementary day job, let alone a multidisciplinary artist. While it may be possible to just plain go for it and produce something beautiful, generally every artistic medium seems extremely difficult to master, taking years of focused practice to learn — a conclusion I’ve drawn from my experience both writing and competing in sports.

Does that mean, then, I need to focus all of my attentions on writing if I hope to be successful in the field? Or, on the other hand, can I just kind of go for it on all fronts, paving my way as a jack of all trades at the risk of being master of none?

Surprise, I’m not sure.

I’d like to believe it is, though, with enough dedication. There will probably be some thing we are naturally better at, but if the goal is to become good enough in multiple area you’re able to sustain yourself from each? That seems very possible, if very hard.

Why, then, is the cultural landscape filled with so many more single-discipline artists than multidisciplinary ones? At least, that’s how it seems from where I stand. Maybe, for all my contemplating, it just boils down to branding. Every musician could be an actor, every director a painter, every dancer a writer. But that’s too confusing, says the agent.

In theory, at least, it seems there should be more well-known artists working in more than one field. Sure, each of us have our darlings. Mine is writing. But doesn’t one artistic practice often lead to another, and another, and another? I’m ready for an LP by Quentin Tarantino.

What’s important, I think, is making sure to follow our whims, despite our self-anointed creative titles. Only by doing so can we uncover those pursuits that are more than whims. This is a bit of a paradox, because by following whims we distract ourselves from the main thing. But is that main thing worth sacrificing new and different frontiers? When a person calls themselves Writer, Painter, or Actor, other trades to which their skills would transfer nicely shouldn’t be automatically ruled out.

I know that writing is my main thing, in part, because it’s what I always return to, even when I try to abandon it. This week, I found myself retrieving the DJ-stuff I stored in the basement while creating my “writing shed.” Then I went and bought the Maschine I mentioned earlier. After being inspired by some new listenings, I had a serious longing to get into that sonic space, and I did.

That pull shouldn’t be neglected, surely, but what is it exactly? What’s happening when a guy like David Sedaris feels that pull, say, to leading a rock and roll band? Why do I sometimes feel it’s a mistake when I hear a musician, for example, announce their switch to acting? And why, if David Sedaris lead a rock band, would it seem at first like cutesy side-project rather than something to be taken as seriously as his writing?

It’s got something to do with the hard to comprehend idea that people can always do more, I think. And I get that. To see photos of Michael Jordan in a White Sox uniform always takes me a second to process. But there he is, in a Yankees uniform. And if that doesn’t make him the best athlete in the world — which, for the record, I think it does — it certainly makes him the bravest. ♦

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Weekly Three

HEAR: 4AM (Adam K & Soha Radio Edit) by Kaskade

READ: George Saunders on people not liking his stuff.

VIEW: Fred again..’s Boiler Room set in London.

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P.S.