Interviews by Emma Warren
Design by Jake Simmonds
Photography by Suliyman Stokes, Steve Piper, Cheryl Dunn, Ricardo Adame, Steve Piper, Ryosuke Tanzawa and Roxanna De La Torre
Introduction by Theo Fabunmi - Stone
In 2014 Makaya McCraven was interviewed for the politically progressive Chicago based publication, In These Times, where he discussed with Jeremy Gantz, what it is to be a working artist in the current climate. Honestly delving into topics of navigating the financial and social landscape of the industry, the misconceptions of being a musician, the wide range of work within performing arts, concluding “The dream of all jazz artists is to have enough time to think about their work and play and to develop”. Eight years on, this print material seeks to further explore the question: what does it mean to be a working artist in these times? Opening up the dialogue to Makaya’s community of artists he has collaborated with or admired from afar; each offering different perspectives to add to this necessary conversation. These illuminating interviews were conducted by author, journalist and broadcaster, Emma Warren.
The interviews seek to help us understand the discipline required to foster musical creativity , the general frustrations and administrative responsibilities, the resolute nature of artists to follow their dreams and ultimately the reality of what it means to be a working artist in 2022. This material is provided alongside Makaya’s latest album aptly named, In These Times, a time refined songbook of poly- temporal compositions collapsing past, present and future into bold & manifold arrangements of orchestral progressive music.
AYANA CONTRERAS
What’s your contribution to Makaya’s new album?
I wrote his most recent bio for International Anthem.
You do many different kinds of creative work. Does that spread come from choice or practical necessity?
I think of creativity as being from energy that is discipline agnostic, meaning that I’m open to being a conduit to the energy using any manner of expression to be born: writing, radio production, music making, etc. I don’t think of it as a choice or practical necessity. It’s really about focusing on the purity of the expression, and considering the mode to be a secondary trait.
What kind of other jobs or gigs have you had to take on to make your creative life work financially (if that’s the case)?
I’ve been lucky in that since my time at university, I’ve only had to work on creative endeavors to support myself financially. And believe me, I recognize that isn’t always the case, the chips happened to have fallen in my favor. That could also be because as a multidisciplinary creative, I always have a few income streams to draw from. Can you tell I’m a Capricorn?
What motivates you to do what you do?
I want to bring upliftment, affirmation and joy to people (especially Black people). I want to illuminate stories of people that might not otherwise be celebrated.
BEN LAMAR GAY
How important is community to your work as an artist?
The concept of community was instilled in me as something to have or to create. That message came through sound and music or the voice of elders, you know? That whole concept of community. As everything progresses, as I got older, you see things continuing on. Each of us are connected to so many different communities, and even if it’s just a group of people searching for something using a similar theme or object or instrument to project themselves within their search. It’s all about seeing how your ideas exist in the wild, how they live in the wild. Community gives that reflection. It’s just people gathering and sharing responsibilities. Of course that varies, but that projection and reflection and all that movement creates certain patterns and links and bridges and truths and light and darkness. It deals with all the bits: the good bits, the bad bits. You just understand that everything is inside a certain equation that grows, realising that we’re part of this whole thing, together. Receiving that vibe is empowering. It helps with the heart and it amplifies the good bits. Word.
How do you cultivate community?
My cultivation of community is really on the personal level. It can be seen and felt on a personal level. Whenever I’m invited into a community I try to let it be known, non-verbally, just with my presence, my ‘there-ness’, that I believe in the magic. All of that magic, all their magic, all of my magic, all of our magic. And that’s done by just being there in the centre of the moment with that person. The moment may be brief or it may be a lifetime you’re like, alright, I’m all the way here with you. Then after that comes inclusion, when you just introduce one person to the next. Create the networks and bridges that are forever. I think that’s how I assist in cultivating a community, or existing in it, even if it’s just for a brief time.
Can you tell me about practical and ambient ways you do this?
All the ways count, especially when you’re searching for something with each other. Practical? A conversation, anything that will help you move on and evolve on your journey. Ambient ways... I guess I can say that crossing an obstacle, crossing something and moving on, is an old wonderful ancient tradition. Helping each other do that, to know that you’re part of that tradition is very encouraging.
DAMON LOCKS
What’s your contribution to Makaya’s new album?
I didn’t work on this newest record. I did the art for the wonderful Makaya record, Universal Beings.
How have you made it work, being a working artist?
I don’t think you can make it work. You can hope it works and you can work with what comes. For me focusing on the work that feels right for me for where I am and working with intention has served me well. I trust my gut when to say no and when to say yes. Put the positive experience for the band and the audience first to create more engaging experiences.
How do you see this working for people you know – how do other people make it work?
Different people have different creative DNA. You have to locate your drive and purpose and find solutions to navigate the world through that lens.
What motivates you to do what you do?
I believe it is my desire to communicate ideas. I teach, make visual art, make music, DJ, give lectures – all of these things put me in rooms to have conversations (of a sort) and communicate. I have made all of my jobs in pursuit of this communication/collaboration, so in so many ways all the things I am doing for work connects to all the other aspects and push me forward with more questions to pose and sit with.
What advice do you have for someone whose creative work doesn’t yet sustain them?
Don’t try to become popular. Just figure out ways to survive and make work that stimulates and inspires you, always.
HORSEGIRL
It's hard to make it work financially as an artist. How have you supported yourselves with your art?
Horsegirl: We started out as a high school band playing the Chicago youth DIY show circuit. As you would expect, we played nearly all of those shows for free and never expected that Horsegirl could be a source of income for us. The band has become more serious since, and we are still learning how to make it work financially as artists. Thinking of Horsegirl as something that could make money was a strange transition for us, and adjusting to this idea was both empowering and uncomfortable.
When you think about the people around you, how do you see them make it work?
Penelope: All the musicians we are close with either have day jobs or are still in school! The people around us are always making time to create within their busy family, work, and school lives. My dad, for example, was very interested in photography when I was young. I have a distinct childhood memory of driving back from school together and my dad pulling the car over because he saw light bouncing off a car windshield in an interesting way. My brother and I stayed in the car while he ran out to take a photo. He showed it to us months later when it was developed. Watching artists find inspiration in normal life, like picking your kids up from school, is a reminder of how I want to approach creating art in my life.
Why do you all continue to make it work – what motivates you to be an artist?
Horsegirl: Coming from a small DIY community puts things in perspective. Some of the most special shows we have played and been to have tiny shows in unconventional spaces. Our most immediate and urgent motivation comes from watching our friends play live. Watching those around us make it work and continue to innovate is a constant source of creative energy for us. We would not be as devoted to making this work if it weren’t for the other kids around us also making art.
Have you got any advice for people who are at a point where their art isn't sustaining them?
Horsegirl: You can be serious about art without it being a job. Some of our greatest artistic role models are people who create on the side (friends who are in school, family members). It can be frustrating having a financial obligation when you’d rather channel all your time and effort into your art, but creating independently from work is also a very liberating thing. We often feel that doing Horsegirl on the side when we were all in high school allowed us to gain inspiration from our work life and put that into what we were creating. Your art can serve as an escape from a more hectic work life.
JEFF PARKER
How have you supported yourself with your art?
I’ve supported myself and my family as a freelance musician as my full-time profession since 1992. I’m currently a performing and recording artist and a teacher on the adjunct faculty in the Jazz Department at California Institute of the Arts in Santa Clarita, California.
What's your perception of how this works for other artists you know?
Most working musicians that I know in the US have to teach in addition to performing to have enough income to support themselves. In the US, with regard to creative music (jazz, etc.), the communities are very intertwined with universities. As performance opportunities have dried up, the financial support comes from the institutions. Also, as technology has advanced to allow musicians to record and produce their own music so easily, we’ve seen musicians taking on many other roles in addition to just being instrumentalists or vocalists - producers, promoters (through social media), and engineers.
Do you have anything else to add on that, particularly with relation to young artists and to older artists?
I’ve seen the musical landscape change in many ways since I started my career, and I’ll see it change a lot more. It always changes and artists always have to adapt.
How positive or negative do you feel about the landscape now? How easy or difficult is it to be a working artist?
I always feel that art and technology are moving forward, and I see that as a positive thing. I think it’s harder to be a recording artist right now, because the industry doesn’t quite know how to deal with the streaming platforms. I encourage all musicians to get involved with activist movements to fight for economic justice in the digital era.
JUNIUS PAUL
What’s your contribution to Makaya’s record?
Played double bass and electric bass on the record – I’m not sure how many tracks. I also supplied some percussion.
What kind of other jobs have you had to take on?
I’m a touring musician, internationally, with Makaya, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Marquis Hill as well as performing with my group or other people’s bands. That’s my main source of income. I also DJ and produce, and I have a tights company that I just started, which is another source of income. It’s called The Tights Room, you’re the first publication to hear about it. Touring, writing, DJing, songwriting and my tights company.
What motivates you to do what you do?
That’s changed over the years. When I first started playing music professionally, when I was 19 or 20, it was just to learn as much as I could, hang out with people that knew more than me. The first thing was the love of music, that’s been the motivation since as long as I can remember being alive. That has sustained throughout these years. When you’re younger you want to get gigs, you want to try to be the best. Now my motivation is to try and inspire other people to find their voice as an artist, a musician and a person. Hopefully my music can inspire all those things, to make things better for themselves as people or artists and to make the world better. I hope that everything I do can have a positive effect, to inspire people to do even better things. Experiencing life - failures, accomplishments - help build that perspective. To fulfil my assignment as a human being on this earth. To try and operate in spirit, and be led by spirit.
What do you consider success for a working artist?
It’s individual. For me, personally, success is really just being able to do what I do as a profession. It’s an honour and a privilege to do music as a career, and to be able to sustain my life with that, to have a platform to reach people and hopefully affect lives positively. Those are successes to me, for sure. Generally, it depends on the artist and what they view to be success.
MACIE STEWART
How long did it take you to support yourself as an artist?
Honestly it’s off and on. I’ve been working in music for 15 years, since I was fifteen, working gigs and getting paid for music. I often supplement my income with teaching. I’ve always done work related to music, whether it’s playing a gig in a restaurant, piano bar style - my mom is a piano bar musician - doing that kind of work or teaching. It’s only been in the last five years, minus the pandemic, where I’ve been able to support myself without teaching.
What did you teach? And what did the teaching bring to your practice – positive and negative?
I love teaching. I was teaching a lot of younger children, aged 3 to 15. I was teaching violin and piano, sometimes classical music and sometimes coaching rock bands. I loved teaching because it required me to examine my personal practice and how I interact with my instrument and music in general. It made me ask all sorts of questions so that I could accurately convey information and teach my students. I was a huge boon to teaching music – it taught me a lot about myself and how I like to learn. The hard part is that it’s an emotional career. It takes a lot of social and emotional energy to teach in a way that’s meaningful. After teaching for five hours I wouldn’t be able to communicate at a gig. I could play music - but then I’d have to go home.
If you think about the composers and instrumentalists around you – how are they managing being an artist work financially?
I think people are hustling, working really hard. To be able to live off playing music you need to say yes to a lot of things. A lot of people are just working constantly. It’s work they love but it’s hard to find break time. It’s hard as a freelancer to figure out – is this a smart thing to turn down? Do I have the means to turn down something? You might not have the energy for it but you don’t know what’s going to come next. It’s inspiring too, witnessing people trying to make it work and staying creative. My mom is a musician and she taught me to keep the door open, keep room for opportunities and say yes to a lot of things. But you also have to make time for yourself.
Can you think of examples of how people are doing it? What jobs are they doing?
I know people who have three or four different freelance jobs in order to be able to go on tour for two weeks. You need four different things you’re juggling so you don’t totally lose your footing if one thing goes away. You have to make sure you have all of your bases covered. I’ve been very lucky in this career path but I know a lot of people who work in a restaurant but also work as a dog walker, and work in a bar, and go on tour. You have to work out how to keep the ball moving forward. It’s not great, but that’s how the world is at the moment.
How important is it for working artists to have a community of people for mutual support?
It is of the utmost importance. I think it’s the most important thing. That’s a big reason why Chicago is such a special place, because there’s such a great community. You need people to bounce ideas off, who support you if you’re having trouble or if you feel like you can’t figure out what the next move is. Having people that understand the background of what you’re trying to do. Community is important to keep venues open, and to keep places to play, to keep music happening and circulating. In the US, there’s never a small venue that’s open for more than 5-7 years – that seems to be the life cycle. In Chicago we have places like ‘The Hideout’ which has been open for my entire music career. ‘Constellation’ is newer but has been an incredible community. It’s where I met so many of the improvisers I get to play with and witness their creativity. It keeps you inspired to have community, it gives you people you want to be like, work with, support. It all feeds into itself and makes it stronger.
Can you give me some examples of how you and your community have supported each other?
There are endless examples. [Chicago venue] ‘Constellation’ had a series called 3-On-3, where they’d bring three people who’d never played together and play a set of music. I lived a block away. Someone had dropped off the bill so they called me up and I was able to play and I’d never really improvised in that context before. They supported me as a new person on the scene to continue doing these kinds of things. I can’t say thank you enough. In other ways, I have a Wurlitzer keyboard that’s just been out on loan because I’m not using it. My friend Sima [Cunningham] has a studio, Foxhall, that people are always circulating through. ESS is another amazing community space that was able to bring this kind of music to people across the world through streaming, and actually paying people for streaming things. I could go on and on.
How positive or negative do you feel about the current climate, in terms of being a working artist?
I feel like it is pretty hard because you have to be on your toes constantly, making sure you’re taking care of yourself in the process of saying yes to all these things. Making sure you have time to feed yourself and pay your rent. On a larger scale it’s the same for a lot of different careers. It’s a larger issue with the state of the world. Is it possible to exist doing these things when rent is so high and when the price of food has gone up exponentially in the last two years? I feel negative but it’s not just about being a working musician, it’s about being a living human being.
I’m guessing this might not be a relevant question for you, but did you ever have an idea of what you’d do if music didn’t sustain you?
No. I did not. I think I was lucky because my mom is a musician so I knew it was possible. I wanted to be a doctor until I was 15 or 16 when I volunteered at a hospital. I was like ‘Who am I kidding?’ Music is the thing. I don’t know what else I would do. I’d probably teach, which is also a music career.
NIK ARTHUR
What did you do on Makaya’s record?
We’re about to start on the third animation. For the first two I worked directly with his artistic director Caroline [Waxse].
Are you a full time artist or animator?
I am now. I just finished my undergrad, I took a long time finishing it. In the last year I’ve just about been full-time.
How, in other moments, have your supported yourself as an artist?
Sometimes it’s taking on work that you find less artistically fulfilling. I started in animation working for corporates. Very different from the stuff I’m doing now. It led me to what I’m doing now, but when there’s fewer jobs like the one for Makaya, which is very rewarding and fulfilling, I can look for jobs in that sector. They feel more like clocking in, but I still learn some things. I’ve been lucky to have a fall-back that’s relatively related, and still on my own time. It’s freelance.
Worst gigs?
At one point I told myself I was never going to do animation again. When I rediscovered it I was able to come back at it fresh. Worst gig? I made a series of training videos for a car oil company. It took me a whole summer. It was gruelling, miserable work.
What about your peers – how do they manage? What’s the financial reality?
It’s really all over the map. I have friends that are able to get income somewhat regularly and other friends who can’t get paid for months, get a fairly big sum of money, then it’ll be a year ‘til they see
any money like that again. My partner makes gallery artworks and she doesn’t love to sell her work because it’s very personal but when you’re in the gallery world that is your income, it has to be. There’s always some sacrifice when it comes to being an artist at this level - part of your creativity of having to wait a long time to get paid.
How important is a community to making life as an artist work? Practically and emotionally?
Very important. I really think it’s important to everyone. My partner likes to work more in isolation but even for her, the community aspect when you feel it, makes everything feel a lot easier. I have a very strong immediate comment and they’re so supportive. I don’t think I would have gotten anywhere without that.
Is there a practical element of sharing kit?
On a very literal level, there’s a lot of trading equipment, trading skills. It’ve very impromptu, “Can you sit with me for 20 minutes and show me how to do this?” or “Can you lend me something?” I wanted to do some gold leafing but I didn’t have the tools. There’s a lot of sharing.
I live with friends that are artists and being able to go into the common area, “Can you guys watch this?” having that so immediate is so valuable. In a vacuum you could churn stuff out but when I look at the input my comment has had with my work, it’s so evident. It would be fraction of what it is now without the community.
What advice would you pass on to other artists who are in the period where being an artist isn’t financially viable?
It was really only in the last six months that what I see as my artistic practice overtook what I saw as my freelance work that was stabilising my income. The only reason I was able to keep going to get to that point was being so excited by it. What can happen a lot is that your artistic practice can feel stale. I realised with my own work that I needed to conduct experiments, to explore. I work with a lot of physical materials. I’ll print frames out on paper and work with them on paper. When I started doing that I started getting job opportunities to do that same thing over and over again.
I took one of those jobs and then realised that it sucked out all the passion. I ensured for myself that there would be exploration and experimentation happening every time so that I don’t feel that when I am being hired it’s to do something that isn't exciting for me any more.
So enthusiasm is a tool to manage those down periods?
That’s a great way to put it.
How do you define success as an artist?
Really I just want to have the means or opportunities to try all the ideas I want to try. Some of them are kind of extra, but it would be really nice to self-invest and to just craft something to be the way I want it. I want to be able to make a living but I really want to keep trying things, on a bigger scale as well.
Do you call yourself an artist?
I do call myself an artist. I consider myself an artist but I’m interested in blurring the boundaries between making things that feel like fine art, that belong in gallery space and things that end up on YouTube or Vimeo, or working with Makaya, or a fashion brand. I think there are a lot of connotations with ‘artist’. I consider my practice to be a little more fluid, at least right now. I’m still figuring it all out.
What motivates you to be an artist?
I think what motivates me on a day to do is I call myself an experimental animator, not to be pretentious, but because I really think that everything I do is an experiment.I don’t know what’s going to happen – sometimes it doesn’t turn out well at all – and that’s so exciting. I think it’s the same reasons people are returning back to film photography. The immediacy of knowing is nice but going through something, pouring yourself into something when you don’t know what you’ll get it is invigorating. Right now, it’s curiosity.
How positive or negative do you feel about the current landscape for working artists? People who want to do something creative but also want to pay the bills?
One thing I talk about with peers of mine is the myth of the middle class artist. There’s a lot of talk of the middle-class artist becoming more of a possibility. I do think industries aren’t really set up to give artists stability. Generally I’m optimistic about being an artist right now. I think that despite NFTs and AI entering the arts, all these things that feel confusing and scary for artists. [pauses] I think there are unique pressures right now, with the way social media is constructed. My livelihood is based around work I get through instagram. There’s a lot of pressure to tailor your work towards these platforms. There are other pressures around NFTs, because it became a very viable way to make money as an artist, and there are all these politics around it. It is a tough time to be an artist but because of that people have their eyes peeled for things that are really interesting and different because we’re all so oversaturated with sameness. I think if you’re in love with trying things and you really put value into your unique creativity – I don’t think there’s ever been a better time for that. People like that stand out so much. When things get tough, community just comes together.
When you say middle-class artist, what do you mean? In the UK there’s a debate about middle-class artists taking up too much space, at the cost of working-class artists, but I don’t think that’s what you mean...
What I was saying is that it feels like people are suggesting more and more that you can have a profession as an artist and live comfortably. My friends and I, we call it a myth. It feels like all the people who claim that there’s a new middle class for artists aren’t actually artists, they’re business people who profit a lot off people trying to be artists. It feels like there are a million boundaries to getting there.
Did you ever have a Plan B?
The generation of emerging artists and emerging adults, mid-20s, early 20s, we’ve been told from a very young age that our career paths are going to be a lot different to our parents. It got to a point where I didn’t imagine myself ever finding a singular stable job. Getting to a point where I call myself an artist, it happened very naturally. I didn’t decide I wanted to be an artist until I already was an artist. The language of a Plan B makes everything feel so rigid. Everything is so fluid now. I would like to do a lot more woodworking, to make beautiful wooden objects and furniture. If I started doing that it wouldn’t feel like a deviation from my path, it would feel like a natural progression of my career path.
It feels like going wherever the wind takes me, which is how I got here in the first place. I’d be curious to hear what other people say, and what people from different ages. I feel that the Plan B concept isn’t really compatible with my generation.
RON TRENT
How do you define success as an artist?
"Impact." Art has multiple definitions and means different things to many people. For me I am aligned with the fact that art has the ability to inform, evoke, and change the community where it is presented. As an artist when I have achieved at least one of these criteria, if not all, then the impact of my artistry has done its job. To keep it short this is success.
What motivated you in the beginning, to be someone who made a living from creative work?
There were a confluence of moments in my life that brought me to realizing that music and art would be my life's work. Waking up everyday to do something I am passionate about, I would say is the singular factor of it all. Doing what comes naturally and is constantly evolving at the same time. Spirituality is at the core of my motivation that launches my creativity and enforces my emotives.
What motivates you now?
The basis of my motivations are still the same as when I began this journey. Discovery, study of the greats, and the unlimited possibilities is what immediately comes to mind. This has never changed. I have learned more along the way and sharpened my focus but the foundations of my motivational core remains the same for me.
What advice do you have for someone who is at a point where their artform isn't sustaining them?
I don't want to be blunt but – "find a way". If you believe in what you are doing then you must figure or reconfigure your strategy to sustain the result you want to see. Obviously one needs to be realist in their approach to anything. You have to eat and be able to have a foundation to be able to create, but never get off-focus. Be humble to the process. If this is your destiny you find what you need if you work hard enough to look for it.
Why do we need artists?
Artists bring a perspective and the colors of imagination into reality that science and other pragmatic systems can not. It is a spiritual language manifested into mediums, forms, and sonics as translated by artists, that makes artistry a serious profession. Art is in everything. Most systems of management involve some form of creativity in order for them to work. Imagination to manifestation. This is what artists do. The world needs this constantly.
RYOSUKE TANZAWA
Hello! [miaow sound off-camera]. OK, you have a cat there.
Yes. He responds to the Zoom call. It’s interesting behaviour – he was fine with me ignoring right before the Zoom call.
What’s your relationship with Makaya and what exactly did you do on Makaya’s new album?
I haven’t made the video yet. We’re ready to go but we haven’t shot yet. I don’t know him that well. I’m a fan of his music but we talked on a Zoom for like ten minutes.
How long did it take you to be able to support yourself through editing and directing? Are you able to survive off your art?
I make money by editing commercial work, ad agency stuff. Very straightforward. It doesn’t really cross over with the work I do for rappers and musicians. I think there’s not that many cases like me: stick on editing for money and make music videos strictly for musicians I like. To answer your question, how long did it take me to be comfortable? Five, six years. I used to be in a company, Mass Appeal. I was the in- house editor there.
Would you say you have a day job that subsidised your creative work?
I have no shame in saying. I treat it like I work in a restaurant during the day and I make music videos at night. My day job happened to be really similar to what I do for passion. It helps. Advertising has so many people involved. You know how crazy those people are. Musicians are crazy in their own way but I have almost 100% creative freedom.
Have you created a community of artists around you? If so, why is it important?
It was there already. Earl Sweatshirt, MIKE, Navy Blue, Wiki, Sideshow and so many more. Somehow I got involved and ended up being their video guy.
They’re roughly a decade younger than me. I used to think I was helping them but now I think I’m part of it. That’s what Naavin (MIKE’s manager) says. OK, cool, that’s sweet. MIKE calls me uncle sometimes which is a bit offensive - I’m still 35 [laughs].
Do you think musicians need visual artists in their community and vice versa?
I think it’s mutual. In my particular case, we happen to have the same aesthetic. It’s mutual. Each rapper or musician is very different but they have something common in their aesthetic which I like. They tend to not like overly- produced commercial stuff. They need me to get their music properly conveyed to people. I’m not the type of person to have a message always. I’m borrowing the message a lot of times. It’s a mutual need.
I wonder if you’ve had any other roles within your field – Makaya ran parties, for example. Is there anything else you’ve dabbled in around visual art or something else?
I’ve been taking photos. I released a zine, a behind-the-scenes of all the video shoots we’ve been doing. I put it out with Full Court Press. It’s a small shop. They make these t-shirts inspired by mostly basketball players. They have an association with the subjects I took photos
of so it made sense to do it with them. Before I started working as an editor I was a production co-ordinator slash translator, because I’m from Japan. TV production, I absolutely hated it. More or less I’m always involved advertising, media, visual stuff.
What was the zine called?
First Thought, Best Thought. One thing that’s really consistent with the artists I work with - they’re very decisive. They’re very intuitive. I send an edit and they’re like - ‘this is good, done, let’s drop it’. It’s completely the opposite to advertising where eight people have to watch something for three days. I really like working with them. Most of the time it’s the first edit. That’s the beauty of what they do: They don’t need anyone’s approval.
What motivates you to be a working artist?
Hmm. I particularly enjoy editing videos, really. I don’t enjoy going out to shoot videos that much. It’s hot outside and the equipment is heavy. I like cooking too. I put things on my table or laptop or cooking bowl and mix things up to see how it turns out. I don’t want anyone to watch me doing it. I just do it for myself and everything that comes after is extra, to me. Of course I like how people react to it but really I like things happening on my editing sequence. I’m the first one to witness the chemistry. I enjoy it.
Did you ever have a Plan B? Do you sometimes wonder what your Plan B might be?
There were so many things I didn’t want to do. Plan A was not to do the thing I don’t want to do. That doesn’t sound inspirational [laughs]. My mother is a teacher. I respect them a lot. It would have been cool to teach kids. I love watching movies and listening to music. I didn’t want my job to be typing numbers or talking to your boss all the time. I didn’t have that much Plan B but I had my Plan A option quite wide.
Makaya McCraven portrait by Sulyiman Stokes
SULYIMAN STOKES
Do you consider yourself a full time artist and can you support yourself through your art?
I do, although I use the term ‘interdisciplinary artist’ or ‘cultural worker’ to discuss what I do. The reason I do anything I do is to aid in the struggle towards liberation of all oppressed folk. My sole purpose for crafting anything is to tell stories about Black folks. It’s become my ultimate fight and my ultimate purpose on earth. For the second part of the question, just the concept of getting paid for my work is relatively new. I’ve been doing this for well over a decade and made absolutely no progress, so was in no situation where I was getting paid. So I was working 9-5 jobs to sustain. Since then I’ve been making photographic prints, I get hired as a photographer and I’ve been doing things on the music side. I’m scoring and composing three short films. That’s how I support myself. Everything is in alignment with the purpose, which is telling stories about Black folks or aiding folks in the struggle towards liberation. I’m very discerning about the work I take.
Which forms of art are you involved with?
Mainly now, my mediums I work with are music and photography. Also I do some film. I’m about to dive deeper into film. I want to do some short films for my album. I think these things pull on the same strings: being able to capture a moment in time with a camera is the same as being able to capture a moment of expression as a musical creation: a sound, a frequency. They inform each other. When I do self-portraits I like attaching them to compositional sketches. There’s a lot of overlap.
When there’s a strong sense of purpose – aiding the struggle towards liberation for all oppressed folks – there’s a common thing that rears its head in all the work. It doesn’t matter what medium. Everything is going to have a shared meaning or vibe. All of this work comes from the same place.
What does success look like for you, as an artist?
I don’t know. Things have taken off on the photo side. I’ve been chiseling away at the music thing for so long. Now people see me in these spaces, they consider me as a photographer. Some of that is on me, being afraid to put the music out. I saw this interview recently with Toni Morrison where she was talking about freedom being the ability to choose one’s responsibility. That lends itself to the concept of success. As it stands today, that does not exist. I’m not able
to get up every day and choose what I want to be preoccupied by, because the resources aren’t there. Success would be creating spaces where all of these things I’m discussing would be able to happen in real time, with tangible results. Literally building out spaces in my community where folks could come in. That’s my end goal. Children in the neighbourhood can have arts education or learn how to do anything that lends itself to self-expression. Children, especially in these impoverished communities, they experience all these things and they don’t know how to express them, they don’t have an outlet to get it out. Being able to pick up a musical instrument, or a paintbrush or a camera and learn from adults who’ve done similar things or their peers – a place where folks can come and eat, have a community garden, distribute free fruits and veggies, a space where bands can come and perform for free. That would be my idea of success. I want to go further, into the material needs of people, truly being able to impact the lives of folks. Art is not always accessible and there are barriers to entry. There will be people who engage with my photographs or music, but a single mom with three kids, 47 years old, she may not be looking to go to an exhibit and see
a photograph. She might be figuring out what her kids are going to eat tonight. Success is being able to develop resources to truly address material needs of the folks I’m talking to.
ZARA ZAHARIEVA
Do you consider yourself a full-time artist?
Yes, I do, because I’m creating each and every day. I have many opportunities to create with different musicians, constantly. This is really my only source of making a living. In a city like Chicago, with all the different people I’m involved with, being able to play jazz, flamenco, R&B, gospel music, classical – I get called for different opportunities.
What’s the financial reality that you see of people around you? Are they able to survive off their art?
Not only survive, but thrive. I believe that it comes from the inner peace you experience when you do something you really love, and everything else falls into place. The people you’re on the road with are your best friends. You get to draw from your heart, soul, belly. When you have that in your life, you’re rich. It might take a minute for you to be able to pay your rent but I think it will happen. As long as you keep dreaming, it will fall into place. That’s what I witness, and see, in the community I have around me in Chicago.
What advice do you have for people who are trying to make it work?
Just concentrate on the creative process. Keep on keeping on. I think anybody that has the honour – the unreal honour of waking up every day – to do what they love, I believe from the bottom of my heart there will be something that will give you want you need. Another answer would be: create, create, create. Study your heroes, the people that pump your heart, make you smile. Figure out the sound, the way of expression. Music is the most extraordinarily fast way to reach people’s hearts. I am a firm believer that opportunity meets preparation. You do you, you grind, you do it with love – and opportunities are going to start falling into your lap.
What different gigs have you had to do, yourself?
It’s always been music. I’m classically trained. I’m Bulgarian. I came to Chicago because I love Michael Jordan and I love basketball so much and then I find myself in the heart of the blues and jazz. All of a sudden I’m graduating in classical music and performance and there it is, an amazing jazz programme.I dip into church, into gospel, R&B and then the different players. Then start really hanging with people that play R&B and just listen, listen, listen. Monday I’ll play with a flamenco trio in a tapas restaurant or a concert hall and it’s dope as hell. Tuesday, Prokofiev. Wednesday, I play in a club with a DJ and an electric violin and I’ll be walking on the bar. On Thursday I go and play with some of the best cats, play some R&B in the club. Friday, my bread and butter – weddings and corporate events. Sunday I’ll go play a church. I do arranging, too.
Community - how do you make it and how important is it?
I really do believe it comes down to being honest and open – no miscommunication. I address everyone the same, with dignity. Even if there’s a lot of confrontation, it’s always going to be resolved peacefully. Honesty, being respectful and being super down with love. It’s so great, when you finish a gig and no-one wants to go home. You hang out for hours. It’s the best feeling. You feel alive, welcome. You cultivate community through respect, by playing well.
What is success for you as an artist?
For me, success as an artist means waking up, appreciate the day. You love each and every moment whether it’s deeply sad or euphoria. Whether it’s playing for one elderly person or a stadium of people. It means to have a heart
that is alive and beating and feeling things. To be successful means you don’t really compromise how you spend your time or the quality of the music you create. You become very selective in how you want to spend your time and what you invest in. You have friends, records and music. You got inner peace and health. Success is being able to express yourself through your music, man. That’s amazing.
What motivates you to be an artist?
What motivates me, period, is not just to create. It’s to live an optimistic and hopeful and loving full- dream and promise life – it’s just the gift of life. It’s grace. I can’t take it for granted. I can’t waste it, man. I love the feeling when you wake up and you have a chance to breathe. Through art you can make a real difference. You can express everything – all the sorrow, all the joy, all the love. Art can shift so many layers. It can really save this planet. We’re in trouble and we need artists to put everything they got and elevate the vibration of this earth. What motivates me? The colours of nature and the gift of another day.
