Customer Reviews

The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life

5 star:		(16)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

As is my custom when a new year begins, I recently re-read this book and The Collaborative Habit. The insights that Twyla Tharp shares in them are, if anything, more valuable now than when the books were first published.

It would be a mistake to ignore the reference to "habit" in their titles because almost three decades of research conducted by K. Anders Ericsson and his associates at Florida State University clearly indicate that, on average, at least 10,000 hours of must be invested in "deliberate," iterative practice under strict and expert supervision to achieve peak performance, be it playing a game such as chess or playing a musical instrument such as the violin. Natural talent is important, of course, as is luck. However, with rare exception, it takes about ten years of sustained, focused, supervised, and (yes) habitual practice to master the skills that peak performance requires.

Tharp characterizes this book as a ""practical guide" but she also frames much of its material within a spiritual context. The creative process can probably be traced back to the earliest humans and yet so much of it remains a mystery. When Henri Matisse was asked if he was always painting, he replied, "No but when the muse visits me, I better have a brush in my hand." Of course, he was also prepared to transform an in inspiration into a work of art...and did on countless occasions.

In the first chapter, Tharp acknowledges what she characterizes as "a philosophical tug of war...It is the perennial debate, born in the Romantic era, between the beliefs that all creative acts are born of (a) some transcendent, inexplicable Dionysian act of inspiration, a kiss from God on your brow that allows you to give the world The Magic Flute, or (b) hard work." She adds, "Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits. That's it in a nutshell."

Throughout the remainder of her book, Tharp draws heavily upon her own personal as well as professional experiences (she would probably not make that distinction) while citing countless examples of other real-world situations that indicate "There are no `natural' geniuses." However, there are immensely creative people in every domain of human initiative. Therein, I think, is her primary purpose: To convince everyone who reads this book that they can be creative if they are willing to work hard enough.

Here is a representative selection of what she affirms:

o "In order to be creative you have to know how to be creative."
o "Build up your tolerance for solitude."
o "Trust your muscle memory" when physically exercising.
o "If you're like me, reading is the first line of defense against an empty head."
o "You never want the planning to inhibit the natural evolution of your work."
o "Work with the best."
o "Never have a favorite weapon." (Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of the Five Rings, circa 1645)
o "Build a bridge to the next day."
o "Know when to stop tinkering."
o "Creating dance is the thing I know best. It is how I recognize myself."

There is so much of enduring (and endearing) value in this book. Perhaps (just perhaps) this brief commentary helps to explain why I read The Creative Habit and The Collaborative Habit at least once a year and consult passages in them more often. Oscar Wilde once advised, "Be yourself. Everyone else is taken." Those who require proof of that need look no further than Twyla Tharp whose career is her art...and whose art is her life.

Create something new. This book describes how Tharp, and the intent reader, can amplify their creative energies and direct them into creative output. It is so effective that, just a few pages in, I had to put the book down to go back to some writing that had languished.

When I got back to the book, I enjoyed it immensely. If anyone thought for a moment that creativity is some little light that flips on when it will, they are seriously mistaken. Occasional, random flashes do not support a livelihood. The good news is that, whatever your field, creativity can be cultivated. Someone working hard enough and working the right way really can generate what is needed, on a reliable basis.

The process she describes is grueling. It involves massive amounts of training and effort, every day, for years at a stretch. Like it or not, that's the way it has to be. Scientific creativity requires identical dedication and single-mindedness, as described by Santiago Ramon y Cajal in his 'Advice to a Young Investigator.' The good news is that the training works. The process is the same for a mathematician as for a painter or dancer. It is certain and effective. This doesn't mean that every painter will become a Picasso or that every dancer can be a Tharp. It does mean that a sufficiently dedicated worker can generate new ideas, good ones, predictably.

Maybe, at this point, you can imagine some whiner mewling "I'm dedicated, but that's way too much work and it's boring." Such people have no idea what dedication means. Don't argue with them. It won't do them any good, and it will waste time you could have used productively.

I admit that I never learned to appreciate dance, let alone Tharp's ouvre. I still respect her as an artist and innovator, even though I do not understand her art. This book was very well written - surprisingly well, since dancers I've known tend not to be verbally oriented. I enjoyed the way she opened her thoughts to the reader. It even felt voyeuristic at times, when she shared few words of her private vocabulary. I recommend this to anyone who creates new ideas of their own, or who wants an insider's word on the act of creation.

As a frequent consumer of self-help genre books, I had a fair amount of skepticism regarding this one. What could a dancer teach me? However, having read the entire book cover to cover while underlining key ideas, words, or phrases, I have to say this is probably the most practical and insightful book on the creative process that I have ever read. Kudos to Twyla for demystifying creativity. She demonstrates that while there is no substitute for talent (and perhaps the blessings of the gods), much of the creative process is about discipline, focus, dedication, rituals, and creating space for allowing your creative spirit to spring forth.

This is a book I will turn to again and again. Simply the best of its kind.

I was attracted to this book because I like to get ideas for how to improve my writing from reading about what others use to feed their creative efforts. I have been an admirer of Twyla Tharp's for a long time, and feel slightly connected to her by having attended the same high school after she graduated and knowing her twin brothers and sister there.

The Creative Habit is a remarkable book on creative activities that anyone involved in dance, music, painting, sculpting, writing or theater will find very relevant. If you have a good imagination, you will also be able to extend the concepts here to other fields that require creativity such as business.

Where most books on creativity focus on helping you get into a brief creative groove, Ms. Tharp's work focuses on having that groove all the time in your life. Her book is informed by not only her own very creative career . . . but also by extensive contact with other creative people and having read about how others have created in the past. I found her to be the best read person on creativity whose writing I have seen.

Some of the issues she addresses include how to get started ("I Walk into a White Room"), preparation processes ("Rituals of Preparation"), your creative perspective ("Your Creative DNA"), drawing on your experiences ("Harness Your Memory"), getting your research and organized ("Before You Can Think out of the Box, You Have to Start with a Box"), finding inspiration when you have none ("Scratching"), taking advantage of the unexpected ("Accidents Will Happen"), having a clear idea of what you are trying to create ("Spine"), becoming competent in the necessary disciplines ("Skill"), dealing with stalls ("Ruts and Grooves"), learning from setbacks ("An 'A' in Failure"), and building on what you have done before to be more creative ("The Long Run"). Each chapter has exercises, many of which were new to me. I found the idea of either moving or thinking about moving to add new dimensions to my understanding of creative problems I am trying to solve now.

I felt tremendously validated to find that most of my writing habits are identical to Ms. Tharp's ones for choreography. I even keep boxes full of material for projects I'm working on.

The material in the book on how she switched from being a choreographer who could dance all of her roles to one who had to use others to dance those roles was especially interesting. Few works on creativity talk about how to shift from doing to enabling others to do as part of your creativity.

I was impressed that she disciplines more hours of her day than I do. That made me realize that I have room to improve in my creative habits . . . and inspired me to want to improve. That was a great gift.

If you want to be more creative in your profession, I strongly urge you to read and apply this book. It will make an enormous difference in the long run!

Thanks you, Ms. Tharp! Please take another bow!!

Merlin Mann, creator of 43 Folders, recommended this book in a lecture I saw on YouTube. I wasn't disappointed, but I wasn't blown away either. The book gave me some things to think about, but I found it hard going.

The main author, Twyla Tharp, is a very prolific choreographer. She draws on her erudite interests to propose some methods for improving and maintaining your creativity. I found her style, or perhaps that of her co-author and agent (ghostwriter?), Mark Reiter, rather grating. The etension of her ideas into writing and art seem natural enough, but the sales angle is palpably forced. And Tharp has a formidable ego, as I expect she must in her job, and unfortunately that also shone through on occasion. For example, when someone recommends a Euripides play as material for a dance, she doesn't read the play, she re-reads it. Of course: who hasn't read most of Euripides' work? Well, maybe I'm a frightful philistine.

I'm glad I read this book, it made me think about my own work habits and creative patterns; but I will probably not keep it on my bookshelf for reference. I'll give it to someone in a creative rut instead.

The Creative Habit is about two things: the first is that artists live disciplined creative lives and the second is that all successful people lead disciplined creative lives. Teaching through example (the making of Movin' Out) and case studies (Beethoven's morning walks), Tharp identifies a process of creativity (actually creative work): ritual, research, the power of memory, the place of failure and accident, etc. Some will resonate more than others, but throughout Tharp is thoughtful and entertaining. She's a breezy stylist with just enough self-deprecating asides to keep herself honest. The sections on dance are the most rewarding, written with both passion and an almost unlimited trove of stories (Merce Cunningham's loft, Martha Graham's arthritis, Jerome Robbins' advice).

But The Creative Habit is a lot more than entertaining stories and helpful tips. Whether she knows it or not (I'm guessing she does), Tharp is creating a philophy of life here that revolves around the importance of intelligence, work, and moving forward. If putting those words in the same sentence seems nostalgic, don't bet on it. Tharp believes in the future and her book is not simply for artists, but for anyone who believes that the greatest satisfaction in life comes from defining personal truths through reflection, action, and positive change. Like any way of life, Tharp's has its assumptions: that hard work is the foundation of all virtue and that true good is found in the new. The first is conventional wisdom, the second is the confession of a die-hard modernist, someone who knows (in her bones) that innovation is always progress and progress is always good. That's not an easy position to sustain in 2003, but if we're going to make 2004 even remotely better, it's the only one.

The basic premise of the book is that the process of creating means freeing one's mind by rituals that work. However, rituals are not imposed rules from an external source, but self imposed to support the creative end. She sjhows, that habits are the rituals that create the framework for creativity.

I found this book to be challenging on a personal level. It has forced me to look at my rituals and ascertain if they are appropriate to achievement and supportive of my creative endeavors.

This is an excellent guide to mastering the creative life for any creative professional (or as Tharp suggests, it's for any personal creativity as well). Full of great anecdotes, excellent quotes, usable activities and exercises, and most importantly, full of advice and questions that make the reader reassess their goals and their career. The book is thin and some pages occasionally have larger text for emphasis, but don't let that deceive you. It's a vast storehouse of knowledge: ranging from Mozart, to Dostoevsky, to childhood photographs, to how to keep your creative activities organized and so on and so forth. Tharp reminds me of Hemingway in her ability to get to the point, she doesn't stray, and yet her brief topics are fulfilling as starting points for your own exploration into what works for each individual artist. Books like this keep me going strong when I'm flagging.

Boil this book down and you're left with one idea: Work at your craft ever day.

Twyla Tharp has created a book that is inspiring while being infuriating, especially for someone trying to master something new. The transcendant talent of Mozart or Isaac Newton inspires, but Ms. Tharp insists that those transcendant geniuses were the product of showing up every day and working at whatever their craft was. There's no magic; there might be inborn talent, but it's doubtful. Instead, you have to sit down every day and work through idea after idea until you find the gem that creates art. With practice, again every day, this will happen more and more often, and if you work at it every day for long enough, you will make being a great talent into a habit that becomes your way of life.

Thank you and curse you Ms. Tharp for reminding me of what my parents and teachers always told me: work hard, do your best, stick to it, and good things will happen.

Some people highlight passages in books with yellow markers. If I did that practice I'd may as well dunk this book into a vat of orange juice.
This thin book is a long read for me, as every line speaks such on-target truths, I have to put it down to absorb them, and all my own contributions that they erupt in me. Every paragraph is a volume.
Unfortunately, in spite of my praising it's pages to every living soul I know (that could possibly comprehend it), I'm sorry to see that this great work may be one of those that will only be appreciated a generation from now. A future classic.