How we can burn down what's old and build something new, but still honor the past?
Yesterday, I watched the new Bob Dylan biopic, "A Complete Unknown." The movie takes you from his first day in New York City, 19 years old and fresh from Duluth, Minnesota, to his infamous last appearance at the Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island where he plays an electrified rock'n'roll set that enrages the audience. The dramatized movie rendition of the event shows an otherwise peaceful folk concert on the verge of becoming a riot. After this, Dylan puts out Highway 61 Revisited, becomes an even bigger star, and the rest is history. He may have angered some of his folk fans with his new direction, but he had so many fans to gain by continuing to evolve as an artist.
The punk rocker in me always wanted to burn it down and start again; Part of me delights in watching a folk festival devolve into chaos. Dylan's musical rebellion reflected the larger social rebellion of the 1960s. He told everyone that the times they were a-changing and everyone loved the song, but didn't like it when things actually changed, including his music style. The thing is, audiences don't get to tell artists what kind of art to make. Artists make what they think their audience should see, hear, or experience. That's the way it has to work because artists are visionaries who help move society forward.
On the other hand, as a potter, I've always wanted to study the past and learn from it, and also show gratitude and connection to those who came before me. So, there's another part of me that felt Bob could have just done what Pete Seeger asked, which was to play a simple, acoustic folk set. Seeger had been so nurturing and supportive of Dylan and helped his career immensely. It would have been a show of respect and gratitude to acquiesce to Seeger's request. Bob could have played his rock'n'roll set later at a different venue. That doesn't make good movie fodder, though.
"A Complete Unknown" spent a lot of time portraying Dylan's friendship and gratitude to Woody Guthrie. Dylan obviously had mountains of respect for the musicians who came before him and must have appeared as a torch bearer to Guthrie, Seeger and the older generation of folk songwriters. It reminds me of the title of a book by Nick Estes, an American indigenous writer, "Our History is the Future." The title refers to the ways that we can benefit from learning indigenous histories of organizing and resistance and also how indigenous sovereignty and environmental stewardship can protect nature and culture for future generations. In Dylan's case, I see the older generation of folk musicians as his familial elders, in a sense. That's his lineage to stand on. Their history was his future, the future of folk music, the future of American music. We can't just bury the past.
We're at an exciting point in human history where we can choose to combine old wisdom with the new knowledge and innovations we've developed over time. We have so much information and innovation at our fingertips--all of the tools we need to build a futuristic society. I still want change, radical change, but I no longer want to rip it up and start again (to reference yet another book title.) In fact, as someone of African descent who is a child of immigrants, the facts I have about my ancestral past are so spotty, that my actual duty in this lifetime is not to deconstruct it, but to piece it together. That's one of the missions of my pottery.
As I move into 2025, I ask myself how my creative work can embody these lessons. How can my pots continue to honor the past and also offer futuristic solutions based in ancient wisdom, in both symbolic and practical ways? I've always wanted to plant an olla garden but haven't done it yet. Ollas are low-fired earthenware pots that save water because they hydrate plant roots through osmosis. It's cheaper and simpler to install than a conventional irrigation system. Clay is both an ancient and futuristic material that designers and engineers all over the world are using to create innovative environmental solutions.
The path to innovation and progress doesn’t require us to sever ties with our past. Instead, it invites us to weave together the threads of history and modernity, creating a richer and more vibrant tapestry. Whether through the rebellious spirit of Bob Dylan's electric guitar or the timeless wisdom embedded in an olla pot, we honor those who came before us while forging new paths. By blending ancient techniques with contemporary insights, we can cultivate a future that respects and preserves our heritage, while also embracing the endless possibilities that lie ahead. In doing so, we not only build something new but also ensure that the legacy of our predecessors continues to illuminate and guide our journey.