“An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way.” — Charles Bukowski
Life is complex. Making art is complex. We don’t mind complexity. What we don’t want is complication. Yet complexity invites complication, implying more ingredients, more ways and more difficulty. Hence, simpler is usually better.
That said, complexity can be very beautiful, very fun. Making art itself is a complex process and making things simple in art is often the most complex challenge of all. So why don’t we naturally strive for simplicity and good order, for the simpler, smaller and slower? Here’s the thing, most things aren’t inherently in good order, at least when it comes to anything human. We’re a tangled mess the moment we leave the purity of early childhood — that unrecallable moment when we gained self-consciousness — and it gets messier as the years pile on. The desire for more and faster take over. Genuine maturity is difficult, dealing with the larger world while retaining one’s authenticity is commonly a lost battle. The trick is turning growing complexity into simplicity without losing depth or sophistication, finding meaningfulness without getting lost. That’s the way of the artist.
“The art of art, the glory of expression and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.” — Walt Whitman
I’ve always felt that excess was over-rated. This ridiculous idea of abundance is almost as silly as the idea of scarcity. Too much or too little, neither is optimal. Sometimes, when options are restricted, the creative can find resourcefulness and innovation — the limitations stretch his imagination. But when there’s too much, complexity can often end up as complication. A common example is when there’s far too many elements in the picture or way too many ideas to begin with. Then it becomes too hard for the artist to balance and even harder for the viewer to grasp. There’s no clarity, no directness. Themes and visions come out cluttered and vague. The desire for complexity often leads to chaos, confusion and fear.
“I’m full of fears and I do my best to avoid difficulties and any kind of complications. I like everything around me to be clear as crystal and completely calm.” — Alfred Hitchcock
While complexity can get ugly quickly we still find ourselves hopelessly drawn to it. It might be the machine in us. It’s been said that whenever an opportunity presents itself for thinking like a machine, we will almost always do so. This is a disturbing realization. Plus, our culture magnifies this tendancy, nurtures it and inflames it. Then it tries to sell you simple solutions so you don’t have to put in the work. Thinking is hard work and all work is an expenditure. This happens with politics, religion and technology — why think when someone or something can tell you what to think or do! We must be highly wary of this. To derive simplicity out of complexity requires wide open awareness as well as deep introspection; thinking mustn’t ever be outsourced to outside parties. The artist, in fact, must do the opposite; he must hold on to his heart and exercise his agency.
There are times, of course, when rich complexity is necessary; some ideas are just fuller and require greater elaboration or detail. Personally though, I’d avoid it unless your heart says that you must take on such responsibility. Even the greatest artists have struggled to pull it off, this striving for extravagance; art history is littered with collosal and expensive creative failures. The best works of art are shockingly simple yet sophisticated, a kind of refinement not so easily subjugated by category. Art is an organic thing that comes out of an organic process, it’s never purely mechanical. Real art has soul and retains mystery, things that can never be found as by-products of fully automatic operation. To allow unattended mechanism to produce or judge art would be like grading a movie soley by its technical and commercial achievements.
Story, composition, color and if you’re an animator, lines of action, posing, paths of action, rhythm — are these clear and simple? If not, you’re in trouble. Remember that failed art tends to show a lack of the vision or the feeling of chaos. Humans are like snails, we leave trails. What and how we do things matter. The lack of cohesiveness and harmony can never be hidden from view; the astute will notice. When the mind isn’t clear, the result is confusion, the culprit of poor decision-making. A good artist makes good decisions. He’s got a focused mind, a passionate heart, skill and patience, plus a good dose of courage. These are the actual ingredients to making good art. These are the virtues witnessed in the practice and artistry of the masters who, first and foremost, strive for simplicity.
“The closer to the true way of martial arts, the less wastage of expression there is.” — Bruce Lee
