On This Date in August of 1945 - A Product of the Human Creative Impulse...
Hiroshima was transmogrified in about nine seconds.
In a vote taken by a group of scientists involved directly with the birth of the Bomb, shortly after Hitlerism was eradicated - the question being "should we continue to work on the Bomb?" - the answer was an instantaneous and resounding "YES." Was the affirmative answer declared because the Japanese were yet to be dealt with for Finality; or was it, in reality, a knee-jerk reactive declaration for the creative impulse to be consummated and placated, now that the Secret seemingly was more close at hand? To this day, there is still argumentation swirling around this issue. The thirst for knowledge; especially, a thirst for a definitive answer to a question or questions seemingly close to being answered, resides in all of those who deal creatively in the arts or the sciences. A composer who approaches the ending section of a work becomes, naturally, increasingly aware of the significance of the material having been written down; the result may well be a kind of refocusing on the import of the quality inherent in completion. In performance in general, it may well be that the performer or performers assign a different code or responsibility to any ending area in order to further vindicate the reason for the performance itself.
I often think about human reactions to creative process - they appear to be similar - for instance, in an interview with Vannevar Bush, who was the first Scientific Adviser in the history of the Republic (to Presidents Roosevelt and Truman), and involved with the Manhattan Project, Dr. Bush was asked what he thought was the most valuable military asset invented by the Americans prior to the Bomb. Vannevar Bush practically glistened as he declared that the proximity fuse saved countless lives and hastened the defeat of Nazi Germany. His obvious pleasure in describing the development and ultimate ingenuity of this device was the same kind of reaction I've seen in musicians upon their producing a particular level of greatness in a particular performance. I remember seeing that "glistening" in a Serkin performance of a Schubert sonata.
I could go on with other examples of the same kind of reaction among those who deal with the creative process; however, the subject has, I think, been dealt with enough for now(mercifully!).
In a vote taken by a group of scientists involved directly with the birth of the Bomb, shortly after Hitlerism was eradicated - the question being "should we continue to work on the Bomb?" - the answer was an instantaneous and resounding "YES." Was the affirmative answer declared because the Japanese were yet to be dealt with for Finality; or was it, in reality, a knee-jerk reactive declaration for the creative impulse to be consummated and placated, now that the Secret seemingly was more close at hand? To this day, there is still argumentation swirling around this issue. The thirst for knowledge; especially, a thirst for a definitive answer to a question or questions seemingly close to being answered, resides in all of those who deal creatively in the arts or the sciences. A composer who approaches the ending section of a work becomes, naturally, increasingly aware of the significance of the material having been written down; the result may well be a kind of refocusing on the import of the quality inherent in completion. In performance in general, it may well be that the performer or performers assign a different code or responsibility to any ending area in order to further vindicate the reason for the performance itself.
I often think about human reactions to creative process - they appear to be similar - for instance, in an interview with Vannevar Bush, who was the first Scientific Adviser in the history of the Republic (to Presidents Roosevelt and Truman), and involved with the Manhattan Project, Dr. Bush was asked what he thought was the most valuable military asset invented by the Americans prior to the Bomb. Vannevar Bush practically glistened as he declared that the proximity fuse saved countless lives and hastened the defeat of Nazi Germany. His obvious pleasure in describing the development and ultimate ingenuity of this device was the same kind of reaction I've seen in musicians upon their producing a particular level of greatness in a particular performance. I remember seeing that "glistening" in a Serkin performance of a Schubert sonata.
I could go on with other examples of the same kind of reaction among those who deal with the creative process; however, the subject has, I think, been dealt with enough for now(mercifully!).
Labels: the human creative process...
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