Imagine W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Jane and Paul Bowles, Benjamin Britten, and Gypsy Rose Lee holed up in an old boarding house in Brooklyn, working as hard and fast as they can to create as much new work as possible before the US enters World War II. Can you imagine the discussions? The arguments? The parties?
You will probably hear more from me over the next few weeks on Sherill Tippens book, The February House, an excellently written and researched account of this experiment in communal living. Many of the artists’ most iconic works were created during this period.
Here’s the bit I found really interesting while reading last night: W.H. Auden, upon moving into the house, found it to be a less satisfactory creative environment than what he had hoped for. He took it upon himself to set up a more conducive structure to the house. After years of alternately living the bohemian life and that of the nurtured artist, Auden came to the conclusion that the optimum environment for artists included both order and unexpected disruption.
First, the problem with chaotic environments:
“…he had discarded the romantic idea that unbridled bohemianism was likely to lead to the creation of anything work reading, looking at, or listening to. The fundamental premise on which bohemianism was based—the idea that “‘good’ equals what the bourgeoisie do not do’”—was self-evidently false. Regular meals and quite work hours were required for efficiency in every realm, and just because factory owners relied on them should not prevent artists from doing so as well.”
Tippens, p. 67
Then, the problem with nurturing environments:
“…he had explored the idea that such highly nurturing environments could also harm the artist because they were essentially closed. By limiting the possibility of change and access to the unknown, they prevented the artist from encountering the ambiguous or difficult elements that would spur him toward true creativity and expression. Without the random interloper that interferes with his perfect vision, Auden suggested, an artist becomes stagnant and only repeats himself in a cosseted, self-reflecting cycle.”
Tippens, p. 68
So, for Auden (and I have certainly found this myself), this balance of chaos and order was critical. Tippens writes:
“One could even say that at times the Devil himself served God’s purpose, then, by luring the artist towards inauthentic paths and thus revealing to him, by contrast, what his true path had always been.” Tippens, p. 68.
In practice, this turned into regular meal times, set times for work (and silence in the house) and set times for socializing.
So far, it seems like the criteria for success Auden laid out include:
- Good humor
- Work time
- Play time
- Nutrition and hot water
- Agreement in the house on the above
- Someone to facilitate the above structure
- Someone to manage the details, like bills, repairs, and rent
More to follow…
