Find a passion?

We had an interesting discussion at the facilitators' meeting yesterday about "passion".  I wonder if that's a bit of a buzz word these days.  People say they have a "passion" for something and then, as Mr. Stewart said, it's as if you have to treat them with kid gloves.  I think a lot of people think that when artists demonstrate a "passion" for their work, it means that it comes easily to them, but it's vital to realize that no matter how much you love something, it requires a lot of hard work to become skilled.  Students often say they want to be actors, but then when they find out that there are countless hours spent in rehearsal, working out blocking, learning lines, trying out different ways of delivering the material, coming up with stage business and comic "bits" and working on them until you feel like you've arrived at something -- then they're not so "passionate" any more.

It's like this in the other performing arts -- music and dance -- the hard work and drudgery and pain that dancers and musicians endure makes the apparent effortlessness of the performance all that more remarkable.  But if you're not willing to practice scales or steps over and over, you will never achieve the skill to make the music or the dance seem effortless.

My sister is reading a book about Charlie Chaplin right now.  He was the great silent film actor and director who created the "little tramp" character that most of us know and love.  His movies are timeless -- they are hilarious and moving and entertaining from beginning to end.  He was endlessly inventive and brilliant at so many things (he wrote and directed and performed in his movies and wrote the music as well), but apparently as a director and performer, he was a tireless tyrant, expecting the same kind of dedication to detail and artistry from those who worked with him as he demonstrated himself.  The results were wonderful,  but the process was very difficult.

I read Ken Dryden's book about hockey, called  The Game.  (He was the great goaltender for the Montreal Canadians in their heyday.)  He wrote about great players like Guy LaFleur who seemed to play an effortless game.  But LaFleur would arrive at the rink hours before anyone else and skate and shoot the puck at different points on the boards to see what would happen and try different moves and just generally get down to business long before his teammates even thought of suiting up.

In school, we have so many opportunities to find things that interest us, things that might become "passions".  But it's not enough to say you're interested or to dip your toe in and then wait for inspiration.  In order to become skilled enough to bring your ideas to fruition, you need to be able to devote yourself to the drudgery that provides the solid foundation that makes a flight of fancy appear so easy.