‘In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.’

Andy Warhol didn’t say.

He said something like it, allegedly.

And it popped.

Though no one is sure what he meant by it.

Was it a hope or fear?

Promise or threat?

Wish or warning?

A call for recognition that all have natural ability –

Plea for the democratisation of attention –

Or a caution that, one day, talentless hacks will be bedecked with purple honours?

What he might have said – less ambiguously – was:

In the past, everyone was fabulous for fifteen years.

Everyone?

Everyone who was someone, certainly.

Who was anyone, surely.

TRANSIT OF GENIUS

The transit of Venus is an astronomical term for a period when the planet may be seen from Earth with the naked eye.

A black dot moving across the sun.

(So, best not observed with bare peepers.)

It occurs every 80 years.

Lasts seven hours.

On average.

(All that follows is magicked via the smoke’n’mirrors of central valuing.)

Venus is visible before the event.

After it.

Why is the transit important, then?

It affords astronomers an opportunity to test theories about planetary systems.

Something similar may be made to frame great achievement.

A transit of genius, if you will.

Here, an individual’s industry scapes the blazing face of history.

It lasts fifteen years.

On average.

Most of the greatest did nothing of note outside this span.

Had they died before their transit commenced, they wouldn’t be remembered now.

Had they died immediately after it completed, they’d be household names still.

WINDING DOWN WIND-UP

It’s said that Welles started at the top –

Directing and starring in Citizen Kane –

And worked his way down unhappily ever after.

Is it true?

Late in life, Joseph Heller was asked if he’d ever written anything as good as his first great work.

His reply?

‘No – But nor has anyone else.’

Welles might have declaimed as much.

And neither was unique in this.

Their fate is common to many geniuses.

Though most might not have fallen away so conspicuously.

Because they didn’t ascend so spectacularly quickly.

Track any brilliant career and you’ll observe an intense period of fabulousness rarely exceeding fifteen years.

A segment of stupendousness that may occur at the beginning, middle or end of a life.

SAMPLE EXEMPLARS

Michelangelo carved the Pieta, David, and painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling before he was thirty-seven.

Shakespeare wrote his first mature play, Love’s Labour’s Lost, in 1595, and his last masterpiece, The Tempest, in 1611.

Singing the praises of operas that revolutionised Western art only, Wagner’s transit runs from Das Rheingold in 1854, through Tristan und Isolde, up to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg in 1867.

Einstein rode his annus mirabilis in 1905, related his general theory of relativity in 1916, and originated his first paper on cosmology in 1917.

Joyce published the greatest collection of short stories in 1914, and laboured at the most audacious experiment in literature for seventeen years.

But would we regard him any differently now had he penned Ulysses only?

CAVEATS GENERAL

The one and a half decade cut-off isn’t strict –

And inspired by what a popular artist didn’t say is arbitrary, admittedly –

But seems to satisfy a there-or-there-abouts truthiness.

Am I claiming that these creators did nothing of note before these spurts of intense fabulousness?

Or after?

No.

Michelangelo knocked-out works of heavenly perfection after he decorated the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

But had he died in 1512, would anyone have denied his right to be dubbed il divino?

Wagner was a comparatively late starter re. finishing works of genius.

And – from initial impetus to premier performance – most of his mature operas required long gestation periods.

But if we concentrate on the composition of the music solely –

The art he came to consider the leading motive in any Gesammtkunstwerk –

The conceit is satisfied.

As I write, McCartney and The Stones are on the concert circuit –

But would their reputations have dimmed had they turned out the lights about the time The Doors did?

EXCEPTIONAL RULERS

There are creators who cannot – by any imaginative elongation – be forced to conform to the conceit.

Newton minted masterful papers for thirty years.

Dickens gets a black mark for being incapable of not inking great works for a little longer.

Beethoven revolutionised continuously, obviously.

Rembrandt started fast and lasted.

Thirty years after marshalling the best orchestral force in jazz, Ellington revolutionised film music with his killer score for Anatomy of a Murder.

Carrington produced maximally outré and earnestly intriguing visions for over sixty years.

PRODIGAL PRODIGIES

We lament the passing of a genius who was with us briefly.

Prognosticate what they might have achieved had they lasted longer.

Started earlier.

Not burned out so soon.

Or spent their talents cheaply.

The most prodigious of them all is famous for enjoying too brief a life.

But there’s no guarantee that Mozart would have achieved more/better/best had he –

Like Wagner and Beethoven –

Flowered later/matured slower/lived longer.

The fabulous fifteen years he gave us might have been the best he would’ve given us had he lived as long as Ornstein.

Homicidal Caravaggio’s light was done-in by his dark personality.

But we’ve no reason to believe he would have brought greater works to life had he been an angel.

Or surpassed his namesake in years.

CURB YOUR EUDAIMONIANISM

Sometimes, external factors curtail a full transit:

Gorgione: plague.

Shelley: drowning.

Frank: barbarism.

Othertimes, it succumbs to internal pressures:

Keats: tuberculosis.

Van Gogh: bipolar disorder.

Janis Joplin: heroin overdose.

Why are full transits so short?

In place of reason, I proffer a vision.

Metaphor rather than mechanism.

ROPE NO DOPE

The transit of genius may be tied to the history of a hemp rope.

First, inspire/discover a need for same.

Cultivate/source the crop.

Harvest it.

Unwind fibres from stalk.

Drape them over a cane.

Pull taut till smoothed out.

Separate into two tails.

Turn each clockwise till the cords kink up about themselves.
Pull taught.

Twist the cords together counter-clockwise to make a single length.

Secure the ends with knots.

Remove stick.

Employ resultant rope to secure/drag/brace, etc. as required.

Every patch of hemp is a hope for a rope.

Each stalk – fibre – helps constitute it.

Genius, similarly, is a confederation of discrete elements.

Geography.

Chronology.

Guardianship.

Diet.

Income.

Etc.

Every one is essential to the integrity of the whole.

Every point in the process equally.

Cultivation/sourcing/seeding/training/harvesting/twisting –

Change one and genius won’t out.

Like rope, it is sturdy/useful/extensible for a period.

Then dirties/frays/splits/unwinds.

Seems determined to revert to its separate constituents.

We know why rope decomposes –

It gets scored/nicked/scarified –

But why does genius suffer similarly?

Unlikely reasons:

BELIEF IS OF SO GREAT ACCOUNT

The transit of genius describes a parabola.

Ditto belief.

It starts in low ignorance.

Slow darkness.

Ascends to shining certainty quickly.

Descends under the gravity of doubt.

Belief in something –

Anything –

Is the gunpowder of genius.

Providing persona with motive force.

Small wonder most creators achieve wonders when young.

Formative years foster zealotry.

Often a militant mistrust of orthodoxy.

Genius bodies this forth.

As the career matures, exceptions emerge to challenge it.

Consequently, the creator comes to doubt it.

Ceases to believe it.

Finally, entirely refutes it.

But retains the skills acquired when in its thrall.

As a knight does the swordsmanship forged when serving a lord who proved unworthy.

This compels them to continue the quest.

Without passion/direction/mission.

Only a will to work.

Like pastor Ericsson in Bergman’s Winter Light.

Practitioners practise because they have a practice.

Fortunately, a ship without a rudder remains an ocean-going vessel.

Creators whom fate has faith in acquire new beliefs to replace the old.

Nietzsche was a lifelong belief snatcher.

Ever possessing, then, exorcising demons of meaning.

For instance, Wagner.

Himself a perennial zealot/apostate/heresiarch.

This explains his exceptionality.

Why he grew more inventive as he aged.

Schopenhauer –

Eastern philosophy –

He kept scoping new stars to follow.

SELF-BELIEF IS CHIEF

Wagner changed his mind often.

Allowed others to alter words/music in the service of drama, astonishingly.

His ego contemplated suicide frequently, surprisingly.

But never let him lose sight of his core’s mission.

Or it of him.

Faith in self stayed strong when flesh weakened.

Proof?

He sent each act of Tristan und Isolde to the printers before starting on the next.

Yes –

The composer of the most complex operas in the repertoire –

Works whose every phrase seems to allude to every other –

Did that.

Did it, moreover, with the most revolutionary one of the lot.

What would Verdi have said had he known that?

Not: ‘I stood in wonder and terror’ at that opera merely –

Or: ‘It’s hard to believe that a human being wrote it’ –

Rather: I stood in wonder and terror at the author of it.

And: A human being didn’t write it.

MATURING INTO MINORITY

There are film directors –

Scorsese, I’m talkin’ to you –

Who cannot help but make flicks that thrill.

However, only those that are of them/for them/about them are works of art.

Driven artisans, they taxi on.

But succeed wholly only when they make pictures they want to see.

Rather than those they want to be seen with.

MEMORIES. YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT MEMORIES

Ridley Scott couldn’t direct Alien now.

Doesn’t seem able to anyway.

How did he manage to make the original?

He possessed something surplus then.

Lacked something, rather.

What?

Self-consciousness.

The myriad influences that made up that monster coursed through his subconscious.

Not his conscious mind.

And this is the way it has to be.

Allusions cannot be cannibalised to retrofit other works.

Like an overstuffed suitcase –

Or overwrought Kane –

It would burst at the seams –

Or from the chest.

Puzzlingly, Scott doesn’t know this now.

Tempting the question Deckard asked re. replicant Rachel –

(In another film Scott couldn’t make now) –

Only of genius:

How can it not know what it is?

The answer?

It can function only as long as it doesn’t.

AMBITION VAUNTED

Success fires ambition.

Extinguishes it too.

How?

Those with nothing to prove prove nothing.

Pope Benedict XI’s courtier required proof that Giotto was the greatest painter in Italy.

The artist swatted him away with a sheet of paper.

On it, he had inscribed a single unbroken line.

A perfect circle.

Similarly, creators who’ve offered culture’s courtiers round proof of their genius believe that providing further evidence is unnecessary.

THE SPORT OF WHEN WE WERE KINGS

The greatest sportsman of all time won his first gold medal in 1960.

And the World Heavyweight Championship belt for the third time in 1978.

It’s common to trashtalk boxers –

All sportspeople –

For the shortness of their greatness.

To contend that even the best can knock it out of the park for a limited time only.

Before getting knocked out of it.

But even if you’re not punched in the head for fifteen rounds –

And if fate doesn’t ding the bell first –

There may be an inside ringside trainer who throws in the towel after you’ve beaten yourself up for fifteen years.

Though you continue to land the odd left hook, then –

Rope-a-dope –

Scrape through on points –

You know you’re going through the motions body and soul.

THERE ARE SIMPLY TOO MANY NOTEBOOKS OR HEARTBEATS

The life span of a mammal is set by its heart.

Great or small, it banks a billion beats.

The hearts of small mammals pump faster.

As a consequence, they live shorter.

There is a social correlative.

Those who manufacture interesting times for themselves expend a greater portion of their beat ration early.

This has a correspondent in creativity.

The human brain can process only so many thoughts.

Heroic or quotidian.

Brainstorm a constricted number of scenarios for its host to realise them in.

Whether the creator’s life is intense or interminable, then, it will –

Barring other factors –

Bash out only so many creative heartstoppers.

STAY HUNGRY LITERALLY MAKES ME ANGRY

Falling away is caused by comfort.

Financial.

Reputational.

Most creators cease being hungry after fifteen years of success.

Consequently, life must be hard for all.

This claim was first proposed by Nietzsche.

Seconded by Rand.

(And may explain why both persisted in being difficult.

Turned on friends.

Twisted about themselves.

In an attempt to hot-house their own hunger.)

Overlay this with their reservations about socialism and a manifesto manifests itself.

One canvassed by bad Samaritans.

Who were playing Beggar My Neighbour long before they marked either advocate.

Nonetheless, they insist their works provide philosophical vindication for what they wanted to do –

Didn’t want to do –

In the first place.

Prove that meanness has a justifying end.

This is based on an error.

One that Nietzsche and Rand –

Dependant on the kindness of strangers at the ends of their lives –

Showed-up personally.

Nevertheless, some persist in insisting that the reason they eschew welfare is that it hamstrings creativity.

Let the destitute stay that way, they say, so I may continue to enjoy the latest Apple Watch upgrade.

Unsurprisingly, these Lilliputians of the spirit exclude themselves from this irrationalisation.

Wealthy individuals all, they suffer no form of hunger recognised by the World Health Organisation.

Most were never ravenous –

Literally –

Figuratively –

At any time in their lives.

Using their own logic, then, they must have reached their transit altitude of creativity long ago.

So, should tender their resignations immediately.

Slip their batons to leaner runners.

They don’t.

Proving that, dancing to the beat of terminally bad hearts, they act in bad faith.

History shouts down their stay hungry rally cry comprehensively.

If it were true, most –

All –

Invention would issue from those in direst poverty.

Out of cultures with hopeless economies.

But the destitute create little.

Comfortable societies bigly.

Why?

Deprivation proper inspires nothing but hunger.

Literal.

Wretched.

Resourcefulness is required to remain alive, yes.

But this form of ingenuity foxes out gobbets of basic sustenance.

Not tisane and madeleine and time to write À La Recherche Du Temps Perdu.

Creative hunger is a psychological condition.

Those who advocate for its continuation may rest assured it’ll persist however much a creator’s corporeal needs are fed.

Oddly, this interpretation of the injunction is heard most often in America.

Though its African and Jewish citizens give the lie to it.

Take away their contributions to the culture over the last century and half and what remains?

However, neither flourished when suffering abject hunger.

From starvation of opportunity.

While wasting away in slavery.

Disenfranchisement.

But a gradual easing of oppression –

Financial –

Societal –

Political –

Worked miracles.

LONG ROOM SYNDROME

Unfortunately, we can’t throw money at the problem either.

Or confer station.

Kenneth Clarke said of the Gallery of Maps in the Vatican:

‘I wonder if a single thought that has helped forward the human spirit has ever been conceived or written down in an enormous room.’

Settle a million on a council estate Dante and they won’t father a Divine Comedy necessarily.

However, a modicum of comfort is sufficiently necessary.

ECONOMY OF STALE

Some careers are cut-off inexplicably.

Others elongated incomprehensibly.

Here, it’s not a question of:

Why did they fade away?

More: they’re still here?

Having committed a single act of genius, they’re given license to perpetrate mediocrity ever after.

The condition has an identifiable cause:

Laziness.

On behalf of their producers/agents/bookers/advertisers.

Rather than source fresh talent, these find it simpler to push what they know.

What we know.

Easier to obtain funding to do so, too.

Hence, the mediocrity economy.

Wherein Lovecraftian zombies are reanimated against their –

Our –

Wills to murder our patience.

ENERGY CERTAINLY

Nietzsche spoke of bodying forth a work.

Intimating that –

Though many have the know-how –

Most lack the physical do-now to release it.

Michelangelo’s, say.

A uomo terribile continued to carve the Rondanini Pietà until six days before his death –

At age eighty-eight.

CULTURAL APPROPRIATION

Perhaps the biosphere is responsible?

The transit of genius applies to cultures too.

Classical Greece.

Rome.

Only, here, it’s not a fabulous fifteen –

But one hundred and fifty years.

And when empires fall –

Fail –

Their subjects do too.

THINGS FALL APART

Entropy, simply.

MYSTICAL LAWLESSNESS

Is any of this true?

No more than Warhol’s claim for our futures probably.

As often, a chance observation acquires ambition.

Mush-balloons into a theory.

And grows emptier for having puffed-up.

Perhaps the transit doesn’t require explanation.

Is merely a description of how things tend to behave.

Obey the dictates of a mystical force.

So, is as handy as Smith’s Invisible Hand.

As absurd.