My BFF Steve Morton and I used to
play a lot of music together. After one sparsely attended coffee house gig many
years ago a guy in the audience came up to us and said, “Man, you guys got
balls.” To this day I still don’t know if he meant it favorably, as in, Wow, it takes courage to get on stage and I
admire you for that, or, if he meant God
that was awful and how dare you. Learning how to be a performer is hard.
But the hardest thing by far is learning how to navigate audience feedback.
Every performer knows that the
only people who come up and talk to you after a show are people who really liked
what you did. Therefore, their opinions give you a false sense of awesomeness.
None of the people who were bored or underwhelmed bothered to bring that to
your attention.
The same dynamic holds true for
writers, teachers, and artists of all stripes. Compliments come your way far
more readily than rebukes. People who don’t like your stuff just ignore you. If
you want to improve, you have to be your own harshest critic. You can’t really
trust what people say, especially in the early years. Your friends and family just
want to encourage you. “Great set,” they say. “Good job.” Thank them for their
support, but don’t believe a word of it.
And then along came social media.
Everything changed.
Now everybody really is a critic.
In the digital anonymity of the
Age of Yelp every tiny flaw is photographed, videotaped, and posted for all to
see alongside scathing essays articulating the myriad ways you suck.
But Yelp isn’t all bad. It’s been
a great help to me, especially when I travel. It quickly lets you sort through
a long list of local restaurants and hone in on the best. You can’t trust those
guidebooks in the hotel room – they’re just paid ads. Yelp, on the other hand,
is beyond the reach of the chamber of commerce, much to their horror.
Businesses live in fear of Yelp, and rightly so. Yelp is nothing more than the
hive-mind reacting immediately and without filter.
It’s funny to watch some
restaurant owners log on and try to respond to critics. Some take a
conciliatory tone and apologize for the negative experience, vowing to improve.
To me, that’s a good sign. Others launch into open combat, attacking their
critics. I tend to stay away from those places.
Maybe it isn’t so complicated. If
you’re a restaurant and you serve thoughtful, well-prepared, flavorful,
creative, wholesome food of any genre in a clean, beautiful, fun environment
staffed by decent, kind, attentive employees your Yelp reviews will be golden.
If your restaurant smells like wet gym socks, you serve (gasp) canned refried
beans and you haven’t changed the oil in your deep fryer since the Bush
administration, people are going to talk.
It’s the same with songwriting,
painting, poetry or any creative endeavor – bring together the right elements,
put in the years of disciplined training, work hard every day and learn to
trust yourself. No song, or plate of food, is going to please everyone. But if
it’s good, it will find an appreciative palate.
And what about the naysayers?
What about those bold, opinionated folks who feel the need to point out all of
the ways your work falls short?
Give them a moment of your
attention. Take in their criticism. They may be pointing out a weakness to
which you were blind – a weakness that needs correcting. But bear in mind that
no opinion, no matter how well articulated, is a fact. Sometimes critics know
more than you and their observations help steer you toward higher quality
output. Other times they are simply using your work as a sounding board, an
opportunity to demonstrate their cleverness and alleged superiority. It takes
great skill to navigate the hurtful assessments levied against us by our most
vocal critics. Have the courage to listen. But don’t linger. Let it roll off
your back like water off a duck.
In the end, it is we who must
decide what good means. And we have
to take full responsibility for working diligently to achieve it. Creating
anything means you will be misunderstood. The only way to avoid being misconstrued
or criticized is to produce nothing. Sit on your bed, don’t move, don’t say a
word and don’t create anything. Oh wait. Somebody will probably criticize you
for that too. Damn. Turns out there is no way to avoid negative criticism. So
what the hell – might as well create something.
The process of giving birth is
always painful. It’s bloody and it’s messy. The newborn thing is unformed,
indeterminate, and waiting to be molded by a thousand different internal and
external factors. Yet we can’t stop making things. It’s what we do. It’s who we
are. We use these hands with these opposable thumbs and these minds and these
hearts to fashion new works from the raw materials around us, wrought with the
hammer, anvil and fire of our own experience. How can you not be hurt a little
when someone thinks your baby is ugly? And yet you’re head over heels in love
with it anyway. You nurture it, and draw sustenance from the conviction that
somehow, someway, the world will be just a tiny bit better off because this
thing was born. This faith, this naïve confidence, is easily misconstrued as
arrogance or Narcissism. But don’t let that stop you. If you have something to
say, say it. Don’t let the naysayers in the peanut gallery shush you. If
someone unfairly criticizes your album, your restaurant, your book or your
painting, just say, “Thank you. Can’t wait to hear your album, taste your food,
read your book or see your painting.” Creativity is courageous, criticism is
cowardly. It’s easy to sit on the bench, not play and criticize the players.
So all this new social media
isn’t really new after all. Open forums like Yelp and Facebook simply give
voice to what were formally private thoughts and impressions. As creators, as
artists, as restaurateurs, we have to turn this new reality to our advantage.
In this strange new age of universal journalism – every phone a television
camera, every schmuck a media mogul – we have to learn to thrive.
Instead of being defined by the
new reality, you have to define it.
You have to learn how to Yelp yourself.
What do I mean by Yelp yourself? You
have to carefully assess your work from every conceivable angle and ask yourself
all of the hard questions. You have to learn to see your work through every
eye, hear it through every ear – you must, in effect, become the hive-mind, the
crowd source, the omniscient Zeitgeist. An entrepreneur who fears feedback is
an entrepreneur doomed to fail. Learn how to put up with a couple of grouches.
But also learn to read feedback as invaluable data that helps you hone your
gift into its sharpest focus and deepest impact.