“Imitation is not just the sincerest form of flattery – it’s the sincerest form of learning.”
George Bernard Shaw
My creative journey began colouring in other people’s drawings at around age 5. Then followed colouring books, after which I progressed to copying pictures of Santa, Scooby Doo, Garfield and illustrations from a variety of books. I was constantly shifting and building on my skills, learning about the colour wheel, the relationships and meaning between colours, perspective, and focussing on line art (as shading was never of any interest to me). Fast forward to high school, I began putting all that practice into art projects influenced by the likes of Rodin, William Morris, Indigenous artists, Bridget Riley, and sometimes, stills from the movie Terminator 2, Judgement Day. Other creatives fuelled my passion. I thrived on it.
At some point, though, with the new wave of social media (Yes! I am that old), doubts started to creep in. I began to see myself not as a student but as a copycat. I felt the pressure of not being ‘original’. I was constantly watching ‘real’ artists sharing their work on Instagram. I didn’t know them or their stories and made assumptions their work was fresh and new (as opposed to my own).
My insecurities had become so crippling that I instigated an ongoing debate with my sister that Raphael had plagiarised Michelangelo. Being an historian and Renaissance scholar, this drove her crazy! She would quote Newton: “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants,” her argument being that Michelangelo’s mastery was Raphael’s inspiration. My counter-argument was that Raphael was shameful in copying Michelangelo, such that he even mocked him in The School of Athens by representing him as Heraclitus, ‘the weeping philosopher’ (basically a grumpy old man).
My sister’s outrage was so apparent that she even blogged about it: https://gksihat.com/raphael-homage-or-theft/
What I didn’t know at the time, but I now know, is my feelings of shame and inadequacy were deeply affecting my perspective. Those inner voices, both mine and the opinion of others in my life, were destroying my sense of self-worth. For a long time, I didn’t create anything. I wouldn’t even draw scenes from nature or still life – I even considered that plagiarism! I became envious of the social media likes and attention, I actively discouraged my sisters’ desire to enrol in art and photography classes, and I was being a real ‘Michelangelo’ to the point where I was isolating myself.
My world became very small.
It’s only been in the last couple of years that I found my creative soul again. It came by connecting with other artists, listening to them about their creative journeys, reading about creatives I most admire and learning new skills shared by artists online. I realised it was okay to be inspired and influenced by others. I’m not plagiarising. I’m honouring their work and memory.
I have inadvertently become an homage portrait artist. Not to insult, comment, or improve upon the work of the artists I admire most but to acknowledge their genius and celebrate them in my own small way. My accusations towards Raphael have not escaped me, and this revelation will blow my sister’s mind (perhaps rendering her completely speechless!) I have, after all, finally succumbed to her argument.
Raphael wasn’t mocking Michelangelo in The School of Athens. He painted him in the forefront of the painting, within the same triangular composition as the great Plato and Aristotle. He positioned Michelangelo in his own space honouring how Michelangelo preferred to live and taking care not to “pollute” the air around him. According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, Heraclitus ‘asserted that the world exists as a coherent system in which a change in one direction is ultimately balanced by a corresponding change in another. Between all things, there is a hidden connection, so that those that are apparently “tending apart” are actually “being brought together’. With this in mind, it must have been Raphael’s intention to represent Michelangelo as Heraclitus. I see this now as a show of respect, a nod to the great. They were connected.
I’ll end on this, from the great Salvador Dalí who also borrowed from the Greats himself:
“Those who do not want to imitate anything, produce nothing.”
The moral of this story? Imitate but do not take another artist’s work and claim it as your own. Share the path, the journey, and acknowledge your muses and influences. Learn. Create. Celebrate.