Let Go of The Ego: What Makes a Great Artist?

Stepanek embodies
my definition of a
great artist.

From theatre classes to english ones, the question of the inherent variation between a good artist and a great one was always a part of my academic discourse. After giving if it 4 years of thought, I have come to the grand conclusion that the most essential characteristic of a great artist lies not only in the natural ability to compose dazzling orchestrations and symphonies, but in the artist’s ultimate faculty to dissolve the ego.

When a piece of art is created, whether it be a film, piece of literature, or proportionally exact sculpture, the one who creates such work must do so with the knowledge that the final product is not only about the artist, but the craft. Of course, artists will always put much of themselves in their creations (as they should), but true artists do so primarily to contribute to their respective arenas of work. Whether they want to give a delicious gift to the audience or even save someone’s life, they must love the craft so much that they put it before themselves. The craft comes first, and I come last. 

It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I love literature and the performing arts, so I’m just gonna fill you in on my idea of a great artist from that perspective. These are just my passions, and whether another’s passion is in business, charity, or other work, I intend for this brief examination to dissect the main characteristic of a master in any field: the ability to let go of the ego.

Even though I’m working toward becoming a paralegal, and have such a passion for the material I’ve learned and hope to learn in the future, another incredible passion of mine is acting. From an acting point of view, it is crucial that the performer let go of the ego to give their most delicious performance. Even if an actor has the most brilliant vision for the character, it must must must be approved by the director. What the director says goes. I have to know that it’s not about me, but the ultimate goal of giving something wonderful to the world of theatre, doing my character justice, and even making the director happy, just because I love it so much. Make sense?

And I just recently viewed a director roundtable session with David O. Russell, Alfonso Cuaron, Lee Daniels, Steve McQueen, Paul Greengrass, and Ben Stiller, which  indirectly reiterated much of my philosophy on what, in their case, separates a good director from a great one. All of these artists bring something to the table, and all of them are willing to learn from the work they created. However, my only complaint about the little session was Cuaron’s confession that he wish he hadn’t made “Great Expectations.” I thought he did a marvelously creative job modernizing Dickens’ “Great Expectations” (one of my favorite books....), but, regardless of what I think about the film, he viewed this experience as a regret rather than a learning experience. In theatre classes, we’re taught not to apologize, just to learn from what we do. It’s natural to feel regretful about mistakes, which we all make, but we shouldn’t apologize for our art or our respective instruments. (I mean, this is not to say that you shouldn’t apologize if you do something really f*cked up, but I hope you get the gist of what I’m saying...).

Even though each of these directors are true geniuses and I love them all, my favorite is David O. Russell. He seems like such a cool dude, he’s willing to take accountability, and I love the fact that he said that there’s no note he won’t take. For anyone who is passionate about their craft, this the ideal mentality to have: always take constructive criticism, don’t ignore credible critics, and seek ‘notes’ wherever you can because work that feeds your passion is a life practice. 

Great artist’s don’t do the work for the fame, they do it because they cannot function if they don’t. I don’t know where my career will take me and I definitely hope to be a paralegal soon, but I do know I’ll be acting for the rest of my life...even if it’s in my local theater. Even if I’m at an audition, and there’s no certainty that I’ll get a part, I feel lucky just because I get to act for five minutes or so. Let the ego drift away while your producing, and if you happen to get awesome feedback after creating a wonderful piece of work that you put your heart and soul into - you’re entitled to give yourself a pat on the back. You just need to remind yourself how much you suck when you’re back to work :)