Do we think Picasso was creative?
Pretty much, right?
Imagine Picasso before he did a painting.
He gets up, sits in the studio, bored.
He looks out the window, has a Gauloises, sips a Pernod.
Eventually he calls his agent, “Any commissions in yet?”
His agent says, “Nothing yet, why don’t you do some spec paintings?”
Picasso says, “What on?”
The agent says, “I dunno, think of something.”
Picasso says, “What size: a miniature, or as big as a wall?”
The agent says, “Whatever you feel like.”
Picasso says, “Should I use oils, or do a drawing? Or should I do a sculpture, or ceramics? Should I make it out of objects I’ve found or clay?”
The agent says, “You’re the artist.”
Picasso says, “You’re no help.”
Then he slams down the phone and carries on looking out the window.
He can’t do anything because he’s waiting for a brief.
And everyone knows creative people can’t do anything unless someone gives them a brief.
How about Orson Welles, do we think he was creative?
How do we think ‘War Of The Worlds’ happened?
Orson is sitting in his office wondering what to do.
He’s twiddling his fingers looking out the window, waiting for a brief.
Suddenly one lands in his ‘in’ tray.
“BRIEF:
We suggest there exists an opportunity to present “War Of the Worlds” in a new format for radio.
Research has shown there is a chance to hoodwink the public into believing an invasion of the earth is taking place.
To give this broadcast the appearance of authenticity we should replicate the format of news updates.
Constantly interrupting programmes throughout the evening with “important announcements” about the progress of the invasion.
If done properly this could cause panic and mayhem across America.
The radio station see a real opportunity for us to get into trouble here. ”
Orson leans back in his chair.
“Hmmmmm.” he says.
Do we think it happened that way round?
Probably not.
Back in the caves at Lescaux, 50,000 years ago.
A caveman’s dipping his stick into a little pool of black liquid.
His wife says, “What are you doing?”
He says, “I’ve just made this stuff for painting on walls.”
His wife says, “What’s painting?”
He says, “It’s like a picture of what you see when you look at things.”
His wife says, “Show me one.”
He says, “I haven’t done any yet.”
His wife says, “Why not.”
He says, “No one’s given me a brief.”
His wife says, “What’s a brief?”
He says, “Someone has to ask me to do it first. Then they have to tell me what they want in it, how many, and how big.”
His wife says, “I see. So you had to invent the brief before you could invent painting then?”
He says, “Well of course.
Otherwise how would I know if anyone wanted it?
If I do something no one’s asked for I could be wasting my time.
I wouldn’t know where it’s going to run, what size, what media, who the target market is.”
His wife says, “Look, while you’re waiting for all that, couldn’t you just come up with some ideas on your own?”
He says, “What, just do something for the sake of it? That’s not very creative is it.”
She says, “What about you and your mates hunting buffalo?”
He says, “How many buffalo?”
Do we think it happened like that?