“The Beatles: Get Back” and the Creative Process

Dear Reader,

Who would want to spend seven hours and forty-eight minutes watching a group of musicians and their staff of technicians, managers and family participating in or observing a month-long struggle/dance with creativity? I did.

This is not a review of Peter Jackson’s documentary, “The Beatles: Get Back,” but my personal reaction to it. I love music – all kinds – and given the fact that I was born in 1942, my experience with this art form encompasses a wide range of styles and genres. When I read about this series, it became important to plunk myself in front of the television for three nights.

It did not take long to see that “The Beatles: Get Back” was a masterpiece. The struggles, the stops and starts, the exhaustion of making art are captured with this documentarian’s patience. I witnessed the brilliance and relief of finally hearing a sequence of right notes or words that almost made sense, then knowing enough to forge ahead and build on those strengths. The sessions culminated in what would become the Beatles final in-person concert, held on the roof of Apple Studios on Savile Road in London. George Harrison said, “I don’t want to go on the roof” but was outvoted.

Imagine walking to work and hearing “Get Back” blasting from somewhere above and finding yourself in a crowd trying to figure out what was going on. It was a chilly January day in 1969 - just another day in music history - complete with bobbies responding to multiple “disturbing the peace” complaints and John Lennon complaining that it was so cold, his fingers couldn’t play the chords he needed.

To make art is not always comfortable but there is enough joy in the moments when something works, and you know it. It’s what made me sit through almost eight hours of Peter Jackson’s documentary.

Stops and starts, that’s what artmaking is. Here’s a sequence showing what that means.

1. This painting from 2000, “The Dentelles, “was inspired by the mountain range in Provence, France.

2. I determined that it was ready to be made over (see 2019 September Judy’s Journal). I got my box of 48 Crayolas and went to work. It felt good to play with crayons again. I was satisfied.

3. Until I wasn’t satisfied. I began making cutouts in a large piece art tissue and laid it on top. While bringing it into another room, the breeze folded the tissue onto itself. I liked the effect, took gel medium and glued it down. I was satisfied and even named it “Last Chance” because it was the end of the month, and I have promised myself to create one finished piece a month.

4. I was satisfied until I wasn’t. Out came oil pastels. I thought I was finished (again) and asked my husband John to look at it. I left the room and several minutes later, he called out, “Can I turn it upside down?” When I returned to look, he showed me the knight on the left who had destroyed the monster by cutting off its head. “Of course,” I cried, “I see it, too!”