Reflections on Genius

At the Aspen Institute this summer, one of my main jobs is to Archive all of the Institute's historical documents. While this sounds tedious, and sometimes it can be, it is also extremely rewarding.  The Institute has a rich history and to learn from not only the minds that come through our doors this summer, but also all those came through in the past, is a truly unique and inspirational opportunity.

As a part of this job I've been piecing together the story of Benjamin Britten's acceptance of the Aspen Award in 1964. Having already archived photographs of the scene, award invitations, and other notifications, I was thrilled when I finally came across his speech.  I've archived many speeches since starting this project, all extremely thought provoking, intellectual and inspiring, but this one was different.  Upon reading it, I was immediately struck by how very unique and personally relevant this piece was, especially in the context of my fears and worries from the last week.

I think a bit of backstory is in order. In case you are unaware, Benjamin Britten was a composer of the 20th century from England. He had an illustrious career both in the United States and in Europe, and was awarded the Aspen Award not only for his stellar compositions, but more importantly, for his character and wisdom.  Britten was a humanitarian at his core, realizing the common bonds of his humanity and his role as a composer to honor those bonds,

In his acceptance speech, Benjamin Britten maintains the up-most humility and appreciation.  He opens the speech, jokingly understanding his only role in humanities as the "being human" aspect, however the audience quickly gathers that he is far more of a humanitarian than he originally lets on. Throughout the speech,  Britten speaks of the role of the composer as a servant to the situation and the needs of those for whom he is writing, "its the composer's duty, as a member of society, to speak to or for his fellow human beings" (4).  When speaking about the work of composition, he refers to the process as facilitated by another conscience that is separate from one's own desires.  Finally,  he discusses what to do with the financial aspect of the honor and decides that he wishes to establish a similar gift, furthering the impact of the Aspen Award and honoring fellow humanitarians striving under the same goal.

Interestingly, when talking about the art of composition, he references something to the effect of another conscience that works with the composer to create the desired piece.  The way he spoke reminded me of a Ted Talk Elizabeth Gilbert gave a few years ago on the topic of Genius.  In her conversation she explains the ancient roman understanding of the Genius, a being who works with the artists or individual in order to help create the masterpiece.  She complains that this understanding disappeared with the Renaissance and since has put undesired, and sometimes dangerous, pressure on the individual to produce superhuman work.  Gilbert advocates for the return of this original understanding of the genius.

What was most inspiring about the evolving story of Benjamin Britten's acceptance of the Aspen Award was not what he received, but how he received it  He accepted the Aspen Award with grace and humility, realizing his role in the achievement, but also that of the "genius."  To Britten, what mattered was serving his audience.  His interpretation of the musician as a channel for, in Elizabeth Gilbert's words, genius, and the role of both genius and artist to serve their audience resonated with me.

It was in reading Benjamin Britten's speech and being enveloped in his story as well as the talk by Elizabeth Gilbert that I had a moment to reflect on the anxieties I experienced at the top of the Red Butte Trail last week.  I realized I need to further refine my thought process on the issue of the future of my life and the pressure I so often feel, especially here in Aspen. I need to remember the rest of humanity, that audience to which Benjamin Britten was such a servant, and that my own genius will be a part of my professional journey in whatever direction it takes. I must come back to the two elements so instrumental in Britten's work: the bonds of humanity and the influence of creativity that goes beyond oneself.  My responsibility is to work my hardest and be true to the common humanity that unites Benjamin Britten, Elizabeth Gilbert, myself, everyone in Aspen and beyond. Keeping those two goals at the forefront of my drive, my own story will evolve.