Lessons from Björk
What if we made art the way Björk makes music?
I found myself down a little Spotify rabbit hole last night and - don’t ask me how - ended up perusing the oeuvre of that love-her-hate-her Icelandic singer Björk*. Skip to this morning, in the car on the way to yoga class I flipped on the radio and lo and behold: Björk again! This time as one of the picks for Patrick Grant’s “desert island discs” (definitely one to listen to).
I first came across this diminutive but feisty Icelandic woman like many of us did, with her incredibly popular cover of “it’s oh so quiet”. It was definitely mid-1990s, as it was in the UK charts at the time I was a Y4 junior school teacher – and I have a vivid memory of the Y5 teacher next door tiptoeing round her classroom at reading time, humming the song and whispering ”sshh, sshh”. I forget the teacher’s name (and that’s really bothering me) but I do remember how funny it was!
It was and still is such a memorable song; it’s so bizarre. Back then, it was unlike anything we’d ever heard, so different to the boy-bands who dominated the charts at the time. And the song Patrick chose is much the same, as well as completely different. Obviously.
Whatever you think of it, there is something extraordinary about Bjork’s music. It’s immediately recognisable, for sure. But it’s also atonal, dissonant, unpredictable. My brain wants to get all old-fashioned and say it’s just noise, but it’s not. There is harmony, rhythm, accuracy. She sings the precise notes she wants to sing. It’s bold, confident. It’s unapologetic and challenging. It’s hauntingly beautiful, raw, honest. And totally unique.
Not sure if I like all her music, but this remarkable Icelandic woman has definitely got me thinking
When we make our art, do we want to make something that other people will like, that looks or sounds nice?
OK, how? How do we know what other people will like? What if we don’t agree about what’s ‘nice’? Not only is it obviously nonsense to even try making something universally loved, but wouldn’t that be a little…boring?
What if we made our art the way Bjork makes music?
What if we made art that only we can make, being boldly, confidently, unapologetically us?
I’m not saying it’ll be easy, and there’ll definitely be some ugly moments – but surely it’d be more interesting than ‘nice’?
It’s not just Björk
While we’re talking things Icelandic, on Tuesday this week tens of thousands of Icelandic women and non-binary people went on strike, the first “women’s strike” since 1975, making the point that the gender-inequality is still live and kicking (an uncomfortably apposite word because 40% of women still experience gender or sexually based violence). I wonder how quickly and drastically society would crumble if it was an international thing, if we withheld our labour and downed tools for a day (regardless of whether we’re actually paid for using those tools).
Making bold moves
If the idea of doing your own thing gives you uncertain ears and you don’t know where to even start, take a look at my Confidence Kickstart course. It’ll get you properly acquainted with your sewing machine, loosened up with easy collage and paint, and creating something only you can make. It’s also packed full of prompts to help you think about your creativity (or why you think you haven’t got any) and why sometimes you might struggle to trust your creative instincts.
It's totally free to join (although you can buy a forever version if you wish) and will stay open all through November. Release your inner Björk and join up now - no singing required!
And yes, I promised you more info about the little bags course, but what with one thing and another, I’ve only got 90% of my ducks in a row on that one.
🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆
It is coming, soon!! And it’ll be a “wait for one and three turn up” kinda thing.
Things I’ve been distracted by that you may enjoy
Been meaning to share this one for a while now, may have done, I forget. Anyway. A couple of years ago we travelled up to the far north of Scotland, became obsessed by the place all over again, and discovered the work of photographer and diver Gill Williams. You know me, I love all things sea, Celtic, the two together…
You can view the images she’s captured of the life under the sea at Skye here.
The other morning I found myself sucked in by this fascinating video about pattern. Just need to laser-cut myself a few thousand plastic shapes to have a play…
Until next time,
* Perhaps I should add a bit Björk to my next playlist 🤔