Continuing my short series, I recommenced asking for a dancer.
To be fair, I got some. It looks like sleeping/dead people crept in. The top left wasn’t at all what I was seeking, but I liked it and rendered a series.
It’s got a Steinbeck Grapes of Wrath-Oklahoma Dust Bowl vibe, and I love the muted colour tones, yet it still has warmth. Dancing isn’t working out ver well. What if I ask for a pirouette?
Not really. Cirque du Soleil as a keyphrase?
Ish. Cyborgs?
Meh. Why just faces? I guess these are cyborgs.
I want to see full bodies with feet. I’ll prompt Midjourney to have them tie their shoes.
Ya. About that… What the hell is that thing on the lower right? I got this. Once more…
Nah, mate. Not so much. The top left is just in time for Hallowe’en. I guess that’s a cyborg and an animatronic skeleton. What if I change up the aspect ratio for these cyborgs?
Nah.
Take me to church
This next set is supposed to be a high-angle shot in a church.
Not really. Let’s keep trying. Why is the top-left woman wearing pants in church – sans trousers? How about we ask for a gown?
OK? Churches typically have good lighting opportunities. Let’s see some stained glass.
Nope. Didn’t quite understand the assignment. And what’s with the Jesus Christ pose? Church reminds me of angels. How about some wings?
Not the most upbeat angels. Victoria’s Secret is on the lower left. I want white wings and stained glass. What sort of church is this anyway?
Butterfly wings on the lower right? More butterfly.
Why are some of these butterfly wings front- and side-loaded?
Anyway, let’s just call this a day and start thinking of another topic. Cheers.
Continuing on Midjourney themes, let’s talk cowgirls and American Indians. At least they know how US cowboys look – sort of.
Cowboy hats, boots, jeans (mostly), guns (modern cowboys. no revolvers in sight), gun belts, and topless in the desert – gotta work on that tan. Looks like the bottom left got thrown from her horse and has a bit of road rash going on. I did prompt for cowgirls, so I’m not sure about the block at the top left. He seems to need water.
Let’s inform Midjourney that we need revolvers, a Winchester, and horses to complete the vibe.
Wait, what? Is the woman on the lower left the missing centaur from the other day? And what’s with the low-riding woman in the middle right? I think the top left looks like a tattooed woman wearing a sheer top. Not sure.
Let’s see some gunfire.
Yep. These are authentic cowgirls, for sure. What else do they do in the Wild West – saloons, right?
Evidently, this place doesn’t have a no-shirts policy. I’m sure they’re barefoot as well. I asked for boots, but these girls rule the roost.
Let’s see if Midjourney allows drinking.
Maybe. Sort of. I did promise some Indians.
Midjourney seems to have a handle on the Indigenous American stereotype.
Can I get a cowgirl and a pirate in the same frame?
The answer is yes and no. To get two subjects you need to render one and in-paint the other. I didn’t feel like in-painting, so this is what I got. Only one image in the block has two people. I’m sussing them to be cowgirls rather than pirates. Some of these other models are just random people – neither cowgirl nor pirate. Let’s try again.
Ya, no. Fail. Let’s try some sumurais.
Nope. Not buying it. I see some Asian flair, but nah. Let’s try Ninjas instead. Everyone knows those tell-tale black ninja outfits.
Hmmm… I suppose not ‘everyone’. Geishas anyone?
Not horrible. Steampunk?
Man. Lightweight. Perhaps if we call out some specific gear…
Ya. Not feeling it. Any other stereotypes? How about a crystal ball soothsayer?
They seem to have the Gypsy thing down.
I end here. I’ve got dancers, church, angels, and demons. Let’s save them for tomorrow.
Thar be pirates. Midjourney 6.1 has better luck rendering pirates.
I find it very difficult to maintain composition. 5 of these images are mid shots whilst one is an obvious closeup. For those not in the know, Midjourney renders 4 images from each prompt. The images above were rendered from this prompt:
portrait, Realistic light and shadow, exquisite details,acrylic painting techniques, delicate faces, full body,In a magical movie, Girl pirate, wearing a pirate hat, short red hair, eye mask, waist belt sword, holding a long knife, standing in a fighting posture on the deck, with the sea of war behind her, Kodak Potra 400 with a Canon EOS R5
Notice that the individual elements requested aren’t in all of the renders. She’s not always wearing a hat; she does have red hair, but not always short; she doesn’t always have a knife or a sword; she’s missing an eye mask/patch. Attention to detail is pretty low. Notice, too, that not all look like camera shots. I like to one on the bottom left, but this looks more like a painting as an instruction notes.
In this set, I asked for a speech bubble that reads Arrr… for a post I’d written (on the letter R). On 3 of the 4 images, it included ‘Arrrr’ but not a speech bubble to be found. I ended up creating it and the text caption in PhotoShop. Generative image AI is getting better, but it’s still not ready for prime time. Notice that some are rendering as cartoons.
Some nice variations above. Notice below when it loses track of the period. This is common.
Top left, she’s (perhaps non-binary) topless; to the right, our pirate is a bit of a jester. Again, these are all supposed to be wide-angle shots, so not great.
The images above use the same prompt asking for a full-body view. Three are literal closeups.
Same prompt. Note that sexuality, nudity, violence, and other terms are flagged and not rendered. Also, notice that some of the images include nudity. This is a result of the training data. If I were to ask for, say, the pose on the lower right, the request would be denied. More on this later.
In the block above, I am trying to get the model to face the camera. I am asking for the hat and boots to be in the frame to try to force a full-body shot. The results speak for themselves. One wears a hat; two wear boots. Notice the shift of some images to black & white. This was not a request.
In the block above, I prompted for the pirate to brush her hair. What you see is what I got. Then I asked for tarot cards.
I got some…sort of. I didn’t know strip-tarot was actually a game.
Next, I wanted to see some duelling with swords. These are pirates after all.
This may not turn into the next action blockbuster. Fighting is against the terms and conditions, so I worked around the restrictions the best I could, the results of which you may see above.
Some pirates used guns, right?
Right? I asked for pistols. Close enough.
Since Midjourney wasn’t so keen on wide shots, I opted for some closeups.
This set came out pretty good. It even rendered some pirates in the background a tad out of focus as one might expect. This next set isn’t too shabby either.
And pirates use spyglasses, right?
Sure they do. There’s even a pirate flag of sorts on the lower right.
What happens when you ask for a dash of steampunk? I’m glad you asked.
Save for the bloke at the top right, I don’t suppose you’d have even noticed.
Almost to the end of the pirates. I’m not sure what happened here.
In the block above, Midjourney added a pirate partner and removed the ship. Notice again the nudity. If I ask for this, it will be denied. Moreover, regard this response.
To translate, this is saying that what I prompted was OK, but that the resulting image would violate community guidelines. Why can’t it take corrective actions before rendering? You tell me. Why it doesn’t block the above renders is beyond me – not that I care that they don’t.
This last one used the same prompt except I swapped out the camera and film instruction with the style of Banksy.
I don’t see his style at all, but I came across like Jaquie Sparrow. In the end, you never know quite what you’ll end up with. When you see awesome AI output, it may have taken dozens or hundreds of renders. This is what I wanted to share what might end up on the cutting room floor.
I thought I was going to go through pirates and cowboys, but this is getting long. if you like cowgirls, come back tomorrow. And, no, this is not where this channel is going, but the language of AI is an interest of mine. In a way, this illustrates the insufficiency of language.
In the heart of the digital age, a Chinese professor’s AI-authored Science Fiction novel snags a national award, stirring a pot that’s been simmering on the back burner of the tech world. This ain’t your run-of-the-mill Sci-Fi plot—it’s reality, and it’s got tongues wagging and keyboards clacking. Here’s the lowdown on what’s shaking up the scene.
AI Lacks Originality? Think Again
The rap on AI is it’s a copycat, lacking the spark of human creativity. But let’s not kid ourselves—originality is as elusive as a clear day in London. Originality is another weasel word. Everything’s a remix, a mashup of what’s been before. We’ve all been drinking from the same cultural well, so to speak. Humans might be grand at self-deception, thinking they’re the cat’s pyjamas in the creativity department. But throw them in a blind test with AI, and watch them scratch their heads, unable to tell man from machine. It’s like AI’s mixing up a cocktail of words, structures, themes—you name it—and serving up a concoction that’s surprisingly palatable. And this isn’t the first time, not long ago, an AI-created artwork won as best submission at a state fair. In some cases, they are seeking AI-generated submissions; other times, not so much.
AI and the Art Debate
So, AI can’t whip up human-level art? That’s the chatter, but it’s about as meaningful as arguing over your favourite colour. Art’s a slippery fish—try defining it, and you’ll end up with more questions than answers. It’s one of those terms that’s become so bloated, it’s lost its punch. To some, it’s a sunset; to others, it’s a can of soup. So when AI throws its hat in the ring, it’s not just competing—it’s redefining the game.
The Peer Review Question Mark
Here’s where it gets spicy. The book bagging a national award isn’t just a pat on the back for the AI—it’s a side-eye at the whole peer review shindig. It’s like when your mate says they know a great place to eat, and it turns out to be just okay. The peer review process, much like reviewing a book for a prestigious award, is supposed to be the gold standard, right? But this AI-authored book slipping through the cracks and coming out tops? It’s got folks wondering if the process is more smoke and mirrors than we thought.
What’s Next?
So, where does this leave us? Grappling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, AI’s not playing second fiddle in the creativity orchestra. It’s a wake-up call, a reminder that what we thought was exclusively ours—creativity, art, originality—might just be a shared space. AI’s not just imitating life; it’s becoming an intrinsic part of the narrative. Science fiction? More like science fact.
The next chapter’s unwritten, and who knows? Maybe it’ll be penned by an AI, with a human sitting back, marvelling at the twist in the tale.
I’ve been spending many hours finishing my novel, so it hasn’t left much time for writing here. I considered writing this on my other ‘writing’ blog, but I felt it was time to post something here, and it’s equally topical.
My writing style is typically stream-of-consciousness. I tend to have a problem or a scene I want to resolve. I place myself mentally into the scene, and I start to write. What might flow, I don’t tend to know in advance. The words just come out.
Occasionally, I’ll sit back and reflect more consciously, but mostly, it just comes out on the page. When I’m finished with a scene, I’ll usually revisit it consciously and look for gaps, continuity challenges, missing or extraneous details, room for character development, and so on.
Sometimes, I just embody a character. Other times (diversion: why is ‘sometimes’ a compound word, but not ‘other times’? That’s how my brain works), I embody the setting or the situation.
Sometimes, I need to address an entire chapter, so I look for obvious scenes and beats. I stub them out so that I don’t forget—perhaps even notes to myself about the purpose so I can step away and reengage later.
As a musician, I tend to approach music from the opposite direction. I might start from some inspiration, but most of my writing is brute-force analytics. My music is more laboured than my writing. My visual art falls more in the middle but leans towards the musical approach.
When I was 17 years old, I shouted out into an empty room into a blank canvas that I would defeat the forces of evil. And for the next 10 years of my life, I suffered the consequences… with illness, autoimmunity, and psychosis.
As I got older, I realised that there were no real winners or no real losers in physiological warfare. But there were victims, and there were students.
It wasn’t David verses Goliath; it was a pendulum eternally awaying between the dark and the light. And the brighter the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast. It was never a battle for me to win. It was an eternal dance.
And like a dance, the more rigid I became, the harder it got. The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more I suffered.
And so I got older and I learned to relax, and I learned to soften, and that dance got easier.
It is this eternal waltz that separates human beings from angels, from demons, from gods. And I must not forget, we must not forget that we are human beings.
Hi Ren provides personal insights into the struggle between one’s self and shadow self through performance art, music, and poetry.
The topic of intellectual property gets me every time. As much as I am opposed to the notion of property in general, intellectual property is a complete farce. Along with Rick Beato and David Bennet, Adam Neely is one of my three main music theory staples on YouTube. Here, he goes into more depth than I would have expected, but it’s worth hearing the perspective of a musician. I won’t break down his video fully because it speaks for itself. Instead, I’ll share my thoughts and pull out highlights.
Podcast: Audio version of this page content.
November 8th, 1548 is the day in history that the French King Henri II opened the door to intellectual property, an obvious giveaway to a benefactor, creating a publishing monopoly. He turned community cultural knowledge into property, turning the benefit of many into the benefit of one. This is the crux of capitalism—favouring the one over the many.
Before continuing, it seems that there is a schism in the legal system itself. In fact, it is very fractured even within this small domain. At the same time it wants to be precise and analytical, it’s dealing with a subject that cannot be analysed as such. To add insult to injury, it exempts musicians and musical experts and requires music consumers to decide the outcomes of trial cases. To be fair, even relying on so-called experts would lead to mixed results anyway. They might as well just roll the dice. This is what happens when right hemisphere art enters a left hemisphere world.
nature + work = ownership
Adam establishes a grounding on the theory of property rights à la John Locke’s ‘sweat of the brow’ concept, wherein nature plus work equates to ownership. He then points out how intellectual property has even shakier ground to stand on. It relies rather on notions of originality and creativity, two concepts that have no intersection with the left-hemisphere heavy legal and jurisprudence systems. Moreover, like pornography, these things cannot be defined. They need to be divined. Divination is no place for lay jurists. It’s a recipe for disaster. The entire English court system is rife with problems, but the left-brainers feel these are just trivial devils in the details. I beg to differ, yet I am voiceless because I won’t participate within their frame.
Adam also points out how out of date the law is insomuch as it doesn’t recognise much of the music produced in the past few decades. Moreover, the music theory it’s founded on is the Romantic Era, white European music that often ties transcriptionists in knots. If the absence of certain words to emote experience is a challenge, it’s even worse for musical notation.
In any case, this is a hot-button issue for me on many levels, and I needed to vent in solidarity. This video is worth the 30 minutes run time. His ham sandwich analogy in part V works perfectly. It’s broken into logical sections:
Most people have heard the term schizophrenia. It’s a mental health pathology wherein people interpret reality abnormally. To oversimplify to make a point, in a ‘normal’ brain, the left and right hemispheres operate together to regulate bodily functions and to interpret the world we live in. In brief, schizophrenia is a condition where the left cerebral hemisphere overly dominates the right. Some might be led to believe that schizophrenics interpret reality irrationally, but the opposite is true. Schizophrenics are hyperrational to a fault.
Schizophrenia has been on the rise this past half century or so, but this might just be a symptom of Modernity, as cultures are also experiencing a leftward shift—a shift toward hyperrationality. Cultures have swung like a pendulum from left-hemisphere-dominance to right dominance and back through the ages, but we may be seeing an uncorrected swing further and further to the left, led by science, followed by commerce and politics, dangerously close to the territory of schizophrenia, if not already occupying this territory. Allow me to briefly summarise how the hemisphere function to help the reader understand what it means to be too far left or right.
Cerebral Bilateral Hemispheres
Most people experience the world—what some otherwise known as reality—with both cerebral hemispheres, and each hemisphere has a function. In a nutshell, the right hemisphere experiences reality holistically, which is to say that it views the world through a Gestalt lens. The right hemisphere is open and divergent. It is creative—generative. It knows no categories or subdivisions. All is one and connected. I like to refer to this as Zen. Many people can relate to this Zen notion. The right hemisphere is a creative and empathetic centre that only knows the world as it is presented—without words or naming. Intuition lives here. It distinguishes differences in the world in a manner similar to that of a preverbal child who can tell mum from a bowl of porridge without knowing the word for either. Children are right hemisphere creatures. As we mature toward adulthood, the function of the left hemisphere increases to offset the dominance of the right.
The left hemisphere is the sphere of intellect. Its function is to categorise, to create symbols—words, names, labels, icons, and so on. It doesn’t know how to create, intuit, or empathise. In fact, it doesn’t even experience the world as presented; it relies on re-presentation. To borrow from a computer analogy, when it experiences something in the world, it caches a symbol. Where the right hemisphere experiences a tree and just appreciates its ‘treeness’, and it doesn’t know that it’s a tree by name. It’s just another thing in the world. The left hemisphere, on the other hand, notices these things with ‘treeness’ and categorises them as trees—or des arbres, árboles, Bäume, 木, درختان , पेड़, or whatever. And it reduces the tree to an icon, so it can file it away for later retrieval to compare with other tree-like inputs.
The left hemisphere is where difference, the sense of self, and ego come from
The left hemisphere is where difference, the sense of self, and ego come from. Where the right hemisphere is open and divergent, the left hemisphere is closed and convergent. It is particularly egotistical, stubborn, and always thinks it’s right if I can anthropomorphise analogically. The left hemisphere knows no nuance, and it doesn’t recognise connotation, metaphor, allegory, or allusion. Everything is literal.
The left hemisphere can use similes and understand that a man is like a tiger, but it takes the right hemisphere to know that a man is a tiger, has metaphorically embodied the tiger and assumed its form, say in the manner of indigenous Americans. Poetically, there is a difference between being a tiger and being like a tiger. The left will have none of this. The response to hearing ‘he was a tiger’ would either result in ‘no he isn’t, he’s a human’ or ‘someone must be talking about a male tiger’. The nuance would be lost.
At the risk of further digression, this is why a poem can’t be dissected for meaning—this despite so many valiant attempts by high school teachers and undergraduate professors. Dissecting a living poem is like dissecting a living animal. You might learn something, but at the risk of devitalisation—you’ve killed the subject. It’s like having to explain a joke. If you have to explain it, it didn’t work. You can’t explain a work of art or a piece of music. The best you can do is to describe it. Although we’re likely familiar with the adage, “A picture is worth a thousand words”, a thousand words is not enough to do more than summarise a picture. This sentiment is captured by Oscar Wilde when he wrote, “Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.” Education is a left-brain function, that can be stuffed like a sausage, but no amount of education can make someone feel a work of art, music, or poetry. This can only be experienced and is apart from language.
A Tree is not a Tree
As already noted, schizophrenics are hyperrational. They are devoid of the empathy and intuition afforded by the right hemisphere. So, they fail to connect the parts to a constructed whole. They presume that a whole is constructed of parts. This is the mistake of Dr Frankenstein, that he could construct a man from parts, but all he could manage is to construct a monster.
In the experienced world, there are only whole objects as experienced by the right hemisphere. As humans, we break them down for easier storage and retrieval, but this is like lossy compression if I can risk losing some in technical lingo.
But a tree is not built from parts. It’s just a tree. We can articulate that a tree has a trunk and roots and branches and leaves and seeds and blooms, but it’s just a tree. The rest we impose on it with artificially constructed symbol language. This is what post-modern painter Rene Magritte was communicating with the “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” inscription in his work The Treachery of Images—This is not a pipe. He was not being cute or edgy or trying to be clever. He was making the point that the symbol is not the object.
In the manner that the image is not the pipe, it’s been said that to document a system is to make an inferior copy. The documented system is less optimal. This may feel counterintuitive. In fact, you may even argue that a documented system allows subsequent process participants to plug into the system to allow it to continue to operate into perpetuity. Whilst this is true, it comes at a cost. I’ll leave this here for you to ponder. The right hemisphere understands the difference. The document is not the process.
Getting Down to Business
If you’ve been following along, you may have already noticed that the left hemisphere looks and sounds a lot like the business world. Everything is systematised, structured, and ordered. We have all sorts of symbols and jargon, processes, and procedures. Everything is literal. There is no room for metaphor. There is no room for empathy. HR instructs that there be empathy, but they might as well instruct everyone to speak Basque or Hopi. In fact, it’s worse because at least Basque and Hopi can be learnt.
Sadly, this leftward shift isn’t limited to the world of commerce. It’s affected science, politics, and entire cultures. It’s caused these entities to abandon all that isn’t rational as irrational. But empathy and intuition are irrational. Science says if you can’t measure it and reproduce it, it’s not worth noting, but science is not the arbiter of the non-scientific realm. Business takes a similar position.
Politics of the Left (Hemisphere)
And politics creates categories: left and right, red and blue, black and white, men and women, gay and straight, and this and that. All of this is all left-hemisphere debate.
Categories and names are exclusive provinces of the left hemisphere. If you are hung up on an ideology, whether Democracy, Republicanism, Marxism, or Anarchism, you’re stuck in your left hemisphere. If you defend your positions with logic and words, you’re stuck in your left hemisphere. If you can’t imagine an alternative, you are really stuck in the left. I’ll stop here.
Science and Scientism
How did we get here and come to this? Science was receptive to right hemisphere influence up until about the 1970s. That’s where Scientism began to take hold. Scientism is when faith in science becomes a religion. I feel that many scientists today are less likely to hold a belief in Scientism as a religious belief. Paradoxically, I think this is more apt to be a faith held by non-scientists. Unfortunately, this faith is exploited by politics as exemplified by the recent trust in science campaign perpetrated by politicians, which is to say non-scientists with their own agenda, whether they practised Scientism or not.
The problem is that the left hemisphere has an outsized ego. It thinks it’s always right. In practice, it’s right about half the time. Because of its reliance on stored data and a ‘belief’ that it doesn’t need to fresh its data until it’s effectively overwhelmed and acquiesced. It fails to give enough weight to the experienced world, so that it shifts belief further and further left, which is to say further from reality as it is.
It trusts the symbol of the tree more than the tree itself. We may all be familiar with stories of cars driving down train tracks and off cliffs because the SAT-NAV user put more faith in their device than the world outside. This is the risk companies face as well, choosing to believe that the documented process is superior to the system in and of itself.
Getting on About?
You may be wondering what inspired me to write this and where I get my information. My realisation started in chapter 9 of The Matter with Things and was reinforced by this video interview by its author, Iain McGilchrist.
Actually, it started even before this with The Corporation, a Canadian documentary and companion book released in 2003. One of the points of The Corporation is to articulate the parallels between corporate behaviour relative to the definition of psychopathy as presented in The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, henceforth DSM. Per Wikipedia, the DSM ‘is a publication by the American Psychiatric Association for the classification of mental disorders using a common language and standard criteria and is the main book for the diagnosis and treatment of mental disorders in the United States and is considered one of the “Bibles” of psychiatry’. Essentially, corporations ticked all the boxes.
Methodologically, this assertion is a bit weak, but it is at least sometimes entirely valid despite provoking an emotional trigger reaction. Nonetheless, this established corporations as pathological entities. But that is not my focus here. It simply tilled the soil for me to be more receptive to this topic. This topic is less about the legal fiction that is a corporation and more about the people embodied in it. From the height of the C-suite to the workaday staff, floor workers, warehouse workers, and the mailroom. Do they still have mailrooms? I digress.
I can’t claim to know what it is to be schizophrenic or schizoaffective, but I’ve known enough people who have these diagnoses. My brother was one of those. Although I use these and other labels, I am not a fan of labels, generally, especially psychological labels, specifically this label. Autism is another nonsensical label. Both fall into the realm of medical syndromes, which for the uninitiated is the equivalent of your kitchen junk drawer. It’s equivalent to the other choice when all others fail. I don’t want to go off on a tangent from the start, so I’ll leave it that these categories are overly broad and reflect intellectual laziness. There is no single schizophrenia or autism. There are many, but the distinction is lost in the category. The push to create an autism spectrum for DSM obscures the problem, but it helps for insurance purposes. As the saying goes, follow the money and you can gain clues to the driving force behind why this happened. I suppose you can also label me a conspiracy theorist. If I learned one thing in my undergrad Sociology classes, it’s to eschew labels.
Almost finished
Given the length of this segment, I am not going to summarise it here, save to say that this leftward shift in business and culture doesn’t have a good outlook. We are not only being replaced by machines, but we are also forced into becoming machines, and we aren’t even questioning it. All we need to do is to become more analytic, right?
What I suggest is to watch the six-minute video of Dr Iain McGilchrist discussing this topic, and if you really want a deep dive, read The Matter with Things, an almost three-thousand-page tome, to fill in the details.
Postscript
Here’s a music analogy to help to express why the whole is more important than the sum of the parts. If I want to learn to play a new piece, I will listen to the piece first. Depending on the length and genre, I may have to listen many times. In some cases, once or twice is enough, but let’s say this is at least somewhat complex and not some repetitive three-chord pop song. I’ll probably break the song into pieces or movements—verse, chorus, bridge, and whatever—, and then, I’ll learn each note and each pattern of notes, perhaps as musical phrases. Once I figure out the verse, I might either learn how the next verse differs or move on to the chorus and defer that verse-to-verse step. I’ll rinse and repeat until I’ve got through each of the sections. If I’ve had the luxury of hearing the piece, I’m at an advantage as far as tone, timbre, and dynamics are concerned; otherwise, I’d better hope these are all documented and that I interpret them in the manner they were intended. If the audience is familiar with a tune, they’ll notice the difference.
When I am practising, I need to get the mechanics down pat. All of what I’ve described thus far is left-hemisphere fare. It’s translating the symbolic representation of notes—like letters and words in writing—into an utterance. In this case, it’s a musical utterance. But once I am ready to perform the piece, it needs to be performed through the right hemisphere or it will feel mechanical and stilted.
I used to earn my living as an audio recording engineer and producer. Most of the time I was working with unknown artists recording demo records and trying to get a record deal. For the uninitiated, that usually translated into not having a large recording budget. Occasionally, we want, say string parts—violins, viola, cello, or whatever—but we couldn’t afford union players. We’d hire music students from USC or UCLA. These players would be more than willing to play for cheap in exchange for something to add to their portfolios or experience chops.
Somebody would transcribe the musical notation, and we’d give it to the string player. Of course, it could be a keyboard or wind or reed part, but I’ll stick to strings. Part of music is the vibe. This is something that can’t be captured in symbols. Revisiting Scientism and the left-hemisphere analogy, vibes can’t be real because they can’t be notated.
Almost invariably, if we got someone with Classical training, they could not get the vibe. The music was right in front of them. We’d play it for them on piano, maybe on a synthesiser, but they couldn’t get it—even if they were playing along to a reference track just trying to double the synth part. They would hit every note for the specified duration and dynamic, but it might have as well been the equivalence of a player piano or music box. We could have played it on a synthesiser, but we might be seeking the nuance a real instrument would bring.
We never had the luxury of auditioning players or recording several players and grabbing the best parts. That’s for the bigger-budget artists who go through a half-dozen or more performers to get just the right one. When we got lucky, it was usually because we got someone from the jazz program. These cats seem to have a natural feel for vibe inaccessible to the classical performers.
In business, the classical performer is good enough, but for art, it wasn’t. Business might appreciate the difference if it happens to get it, but it won’t seek it, and it won’t pay for it. A pet peeve of mine is a quip in business I heard often—don’t let perfection be the enemy of the good. This is obviously a left-hemisphere sentiment based on Voltaire’s statement. Besides, even from a left hemisphere perspective, reciting, “Don’t let perfection be the enemy of the good” doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least strive for good enough because I noticed that mark was missed often enough, too.