If we don’t make accommodations for errors, we’ll be left with a press too timid to get the story.
– Jack Shafer ‘Should Journalists Have the Right to Be Wrong?‘ Politico Magazine
Craig Taborn’s friends often described him to me as a mystery, but this usually turned out to be a polite way of expressing their frustration that he has chosen not to be better known than he is, or ought to be. Many of them told me how relieved they were that someone, at last, was profiling him, as if he were being forced out of hiding.
Taborn’s habit of vanishing, both literally and figuratively, has perplexed, if not frustrated, some of his friends. They wonder why he still performs as a sideman and why he doesn’t take longer, or more fiery, solos; they fret over the long pauses between his recording projects as a leader.
-Adam Shatz ‘The Ethereal Genius of Craig Taborn‘ The New York Times Magazine
Here is a pithy summation of the special loneliness of genius. Great artists live in a world in which their own excellence does not exist. They are shut out, uniquely, from their defining achievements. In the same way that an apple can’t eat an apple and a sunset can’t admire a sunset and the Matterhorn can’t ski its own slopes, Michael Jackson could never watch himself dance, at least not the way everyone else on Earth did. Although Herman Melville wrote every word of “Moby-Dick,” he could never read it as a reader — could never unsee the origin of all those wild metaphors, never turn the page with true surprise. Artists may know when they’ve done something great, but they’ll never know what it’s like to experience it from the other end. It’s like how we can’t tickle our own feet.
This sentence comes from someone who is in a position to know.
-Sam Anderson ‘New Sentences: From ‘Infinite Tuesday,’ by Michael Nesmith’ The New York Times Magazine