You don't need to name it to create it
Why formal knowledge isn't a prerequisite for creativity
I know an awful lot about music theory.
Which is as it should be, considering the fact that I’m in the business of imparting this information to other people!
You’d think, then, that I’d be the first in line to say you should be able to name all the notes if you’re going to play or sing music. And that if you’re going to be a musician, you must be able to explain the relationship between these notes and why everything is as it is.
Well, no.
I can bake a cake without knowing any culinary terms, and I can dance in my living room without knowing a plié from a pirouette. I also don’t think I need to know anything about colour theory or be able to describe in detail the kind of brushstroke I’m going to use before picking up a paintbrush.
Of course it helps if I’ve baked before and know a bit about what works and what doesn’t. And I know from experience that mixing in too many colours to try and make purple icing for a dinosaur cake can result in something best described as…sludge. Just ask my daughter about the cake I made for her eighth birthday.
But sludge-coloured cake aside, there is an awful lot of creative magic to be found when you allow yourself to do something intuitively.
I’m all for people learning how to read music. It’s an amazing tool to have and it opens up an incredible world of music to be played and created and heard and really understood.
And I’ll add that if you are going to learn about music theory you should do it properly. I’ve had too many students come to me from other teachers who can play pieces only if the names of the notes are written in. As far as I’m concerned, this is like me reading German by having the English translation for each word written above; it’s not really reading at all.
Want to really learn the ins and outs? Go for it!
And the same goes for my cooking, dancing, and painting analogies. Formal knowledge gives you a common language to communicate with others, is based on centuries of skill and experience and knowledge, and helps you solve problems more easily. It’s also incredibly satisfying to really go in-depth, just like I have with music. So if that’s what you want to do, go for it.
Creative rebellion
But it doesn’t preclude the creation of something meaningful and beautiful. You don’t need to be able to name something in order to use it. We shouldn’t have to intellectualise every creative moment. In fact, there's something almost rebellious about creating from pure intuition in a world that demands explanations for everything and increasingly demands credentials, too.
It’s as if the very act of being creative and musical is something locked up behind high gates. Only a few have the keys, or so we’re lead to believe, that or they’re born with the ability, so no keys needed.
How liberating would it be, then, if you could give yourself permission to just give something a go, to satisfy your curiosity, or simply because it’s enjoyable? To not worry about making all the mistakes in the world because it really doesn’t matter one bit?
When you don't know the ‘rules,’ you can't worry about breaking them. When you don't know what's ‘supposed to’ happen, you're free to explore what actually does happen. When that happens, you can focus entirely on how whatever it is you’re creating feels, sounds, or looks. And this is often when the real magic starts to happen.
What I see in my studio
But what I see in my music studio is the fear around doing things the wrong way, the shame of thinking you can’t do something, even if you’ve never tried.
‘I can’t sing to save myself,’ someone who loves to sing but would never do it in front of someone else has said to me.
‘I’m no good at music,’ a new student who’s never even tried to play a note told me.
Or, ‘I’d love to write songs but I’m terrible at it,’ said someone with notebooks bursting full of her favourite words and phrases.
What I tell them all is that making music isn’t dependent on knowing the names of the notes. The beauty is that the formal knowledge and all that other stuff can come later, if and when you want it.
But starting with pure curiosity and self-given permission to just play around is what will start to create a real foundation of joy and discovery that no amount of technical training can replace, and which is where creativity begins.
Permission to be beginners
Before that, though, they have to give themselves permission to be beginners, to make all the mistakes and then make them again, to not know something but try to figure it out anyway. And to not let this lack of knowledge stop them from getting started.
And me?
Sometimes I sit down with the music notes in front of me and play through my favourite piano pieces and sing songs, and other times I sit down and just see what happens.
I can’t unlearn everything I already know, but I can let it go and see what happens.