How did the word content take away the magic of art?
I abhor the modern world’s use of the word when referring to any creative work. I subscribe to Alan Moore’s view where he states, “Art is, like magic, the science of manipulating symbols, words, or images, to achieve changes in consciousness”.
To paraphrase Robert Browning, “An artist’s reach should exceed their grasp, or what’s a heaven for?” I have been inspired and moulded by art. I can look back at my life and see inflections where unexpected experiences in the theatre, on TV, in the cinema, on the lounge listening to music etc have inspired real growth, and subsequently an ambition to try to express myself in ways I once never contemplated. The word content is nothing more than iron chains weighing down art, corporate speak for platforms designed to keep your attention, but inhibiting you from experiencing the breadth of life.
Even the word “clicks” has been corrupted. In the 1960s the counter culture was full of Beatniks who would snap their fingers to support and encourage poets sharing their emotional experiences. Imagine letting someone know you dig them by participating in a group rhythm exercise? I preferred the days when clicks were the sound your Nan’s hips made, and you could gauge how far away she was before you had to hide your special magazine. Today nobody asks, “What did your post inspire in the people who saw it?” but instead they want to know “How many clicks did it get?”. Shallow engagement regardless of any emotional resonance is the new norm.
Star ratings are also a failure. For starters, nobody can agree on what stars actually represent. Do three stars mean something is solid and worth seeing, or does it mean it’s average and you may as well not bother? Does four stars represent excellence or does it mean someone’s work is good with caveats? Does one star mean it was terrible or maybe you’re a sheriff rolling into town? Rolling Stone’s review of Thom Yorke’s concert in Sydney last year gave me whiplash. It read positively, then dismissively of one subsection of fans, followed by criticism of some of the music, ending on a gentle rebuke of the same audience he just rebuked while also justifying their responses that he may or may not have agreed with. He then raved about the Radiohead songs played, admitted to enjoying some of Yorke’s solo work, and stated a couple of songs left him cold. So overall it read as a mostly fun night with a dull portion taken up on the fans and not the gig. Then he gave it two and a half stars. I read that review too many times and still didn’t know how he really felt, and the stars were the exclamation mark to my confusion. The proliferation of the star system across all platforms makes them as worthless as the 1923 Deutsche mark. If only I could make a kite out of them so I could see them floating in the air, far away from me down on the ground.
It’s important to remember that an artist following their muse might not be for everyone, and that’s fine not to follow them down that road. Back in the 90s Elvis Costello was hosting an episode of Rage and declared that you don’t have to like everything an artist produces to still be a fan. I was relieved to hear this, and immediately traded in his country album, King of America. Not for me Mr McManus! I didn’t stop being a fan though and was back on board with his next album, Blood and Chocolate, which turned out to be one of my favourites.
When I saw the Arctic Monkey’s live in Sydney, I was quite clearly in the minority when they played tracks from their last two albums. Most of the crowd just wanted the rock and roll hits, while I would have loved more of their dreamy 60s French pop synth infused songs. To each their own.
My main gripe with the word content is that it stifles artistic creativity. Online is inundated with creators who find a form for their work, and stick to it. Scroll through an Instagram page with millions of followers and you’ll for the most part experience similar versions of the same idea again, and again, and again. That’s not for me. Well, maybe if I had a better body I’d gladly post hundreds of videos of me in my underwear bending over with me saying something hilarious like, “Just working on my glutes lol” or “I wish girls would like me for my personality” but luckily for you and your lunch, this is never going to happen.
I would rather see someone try something new, and fail. I appreciate the effort, and I’ll give whatever they produce next an opportunity. I’ll always be loyalty to directors like Spielberg, Scorsese, Francis Ford and Sofia Coppola, et al even though not all of their movies work for me. Sometimes the perceived failures are part of what makes their next film a success. New York, New York leads to Raging Bull. 1941 begets Raiders of the Lost Ark and so on. Fingers crossed Mr Coppola has one more movie to make, because after the insanity of Megalopolis, it might be his best yet.
Real art endures. Often looked back over the passing of time, an artist’s work can be re-evaluated as a towering success after a more subdued response at the time. David Bowie’s “Heroes” barely made an impression on the charts back in the 70s, and is now widely considered one of his greatest songs.
When it comes to my own work, often the shows I have written that were the most polarising have been my favourites. My best selling solo show, Idiot Man Child was a fun night of stand-up, but the barely seen The Ballad of John Tilt Animus made me feel alive after every performance. I’ve had the tens of people who saw they triptych of shows tell me that this was their favourite too, with interpretations that have knocked me sideways. That to me has always been the dream. Create an artistic endeavour that punters engage with enough that they have their own thoughts on what it is all about.
When you create entertainment, you have to be prepared to weather the criticism. I think that’s why most comedians stop experimenting by their early thirties. They find their niche, and ride it all the way. It’s a smart move if you want to build an audience in these less adventurous times. If I’d stuck to the stand-up formula I landed on in 2006 with my show, Smash! my career would have definitely taken a different path. I’m not certain it would have been the right one though. I’d probably have a lot more money in the bank, but I’d also be friends with people who work in breakfast radio so I’d definitely be less interesting. There’s no right or wrong way to do it either. Just because I would have gone insane repeating a formula doesn’t mean it was incorrect for anyone else to take that path.
In these menacing times where limited intellects have the loudest voices, I believe it’s important to free art from the word content so it can work positively again with entertainment and create new sights and sounds that will inspire us. We’ve thrown art in a content gaol and left the least interesting people in charge of when it can be released into the courtyard to experience the sun. Our way forward is to engage with big ideas that can be delivered to people in a way that entertains, and hopefully in the process, inspires a new viewpoint or emotion that was hitherto foreign to their lives. The addiction to clicks and likes stifle creativity.
We also have to make accessible. We need all types of people to be able to enjoy art, and also be able to make it. The way we’re going only the rich will be able to create while the poor are too busy just trying to make ends meet. That is damaging on multiple levels. For the lower income classes, art can be a way to make their way into a more comfortable lifestyle. We also need their perspectives. They experience the world in a totally different way, and we need to be reminded of the beauty in their words, colours, sounds, and thoughts. I’m afraid that everything is so expensive that in ten years times we’ll only have rich people complaining about how many silver spoons they have shoved up their arses. I’m already seeing it in stand-up and acting. Comedians and actors can be tedious at times, imagine if they’re also all nepo babies. Where’s Lamia when you need her?
These are dangerous times so let’s embrace the idea of danger, and try something new. Art can bring people together, and sow the seeds of empathy and understand. We need art more than ever, to help entertainment rise up, and collectively lift us into the light of a new cultural renaissance. Whether it is in the way you express yourself, or treat yourself to new experiences, you might be delighted to find that at the end of the day, you are a new and exciting version of you.
Justin Hamilton, September 4th 2025