Impressionist painter Paul Cézanne’s childhood friend, Émile Zola, was aggressively against indecision. One of the letters Zola wrote to Cézanne encouraged him to move from his hometown of Aix-en-Provence and join him in Paris.
His friend struggled with making the trip since Cézanne’s father, a successful banker, had decided his son would have a future in law or banking, not art. 

“If I were in your position,” Zola wrote, “I would make a decision and stake your all, instead of continuing to drift back and forth undecided between two such different places as the studio and the courtroom.”

“It pains me that you suffer from this uncertainty, and I believe that would be another reason to give your all. Either one or the other--either become a proper lawyer, or become a serious painter, but do not become an undecided creature in a paint-splattered robe.”  

Paul Cézanne, a pioneer of post-impressionist painters, was encouraged by his mentor Camille Pissaro to follow no rules or principles when applying colors to canvas. 

“Do not be shy of nature,” Pissaro told him. “You must be bold, even at the risk of going wrong and making mistakes.” 

Cézanne understood, painted constantly, but still experienced artistic anxiety. 

Biographers have written at length about his struggles to be satisfied by what he painted. Going as far as destroying canvases when enraged by the inability to realize a vision. 

“Vision,” said minister Dr. Orpheus J. Heyward to the Renaissance Church of Christ on the last Sunday of 2021, “Is a dream that’s actualized.” 

Actualization is the manifestation of action addressing dreams. Without action, a dream stays a dream. 

Minister Orpheus, in his 8 a.m. service, encouraged his congregation to identify the needs that tug at their hearts. Then to dream about addressing that need. Followed by action. 

“You are wonderfully and fearfully made,” Orpheus preached, saying over and over how GOD built people for a personal mission and how you must find and believe in your mission to walk your unique path. 

Cézanne thought painting was his designated path but frustrations in his life jaded his judgment enough to make him critical of what he created. 

I think all artists, at some point in their lives, critique themselves harshly. Even the ones who actualize their dreams. André 3000 spoke at length about his experience as a contemplative artist when he was interviewed by Rick Rubin in 2020. 

I thought of Cézanne and André during a several week stay in Wilmington, North Carolina. I would spend afternoons sitting on the balcony, watching the water. Ideas would come in waves. How many of them were good became a common contemplation. 

The ideas started to pile up like boxes in a garage. More and more ideas began to linger as I assessed their value. At times I felt unsure what makes a story worth telling. Unsure of what makes a dream worth actualizing.

I don’t think I found an answer but as I studied Paul Cézanne, I discovered his childhood friend and famous art critic Émile Zola. 

The two artists grew up together, grew older together, but their correspondence famously ended after Zola published a book about a revolutionary painter who struggled to impress the public and never achieved the masterpiece he sought to make. 

The character, Claude Lantier, wasn’t solely based on Cézanne, but historians have stated Zola drew from his friend’s life to help create his fictionalized painter. 

Was it too realistic of a caricature? Could that really be the reason their friendship ended?

Sometimes I wonder how much of music journalism is creating caricatures of musicians. How many of the stories written reveal a real person? Or does the page distort their likeness into some unreal but accurately depicted parody? Are music publications the text version of a wax museum?

I enjoy the work Rap Portraits have done this year because we did our best to show people as their most natural selves. Creating moving portraits of wise big homies, captivating movie stars, independent artists, platinum-selling producers, GRAMMY-nominated engineers, and everyone in-between.

Addressing dreams with action is rewarding, but it’s also physically and mentally taxing. That’s why I relate to artists like Cézanne and André who like to work slowly and tinker obsessively. Refusing to sacrifice care for urgency. 

A slower work flow can easily affect completing work if the artist is too contemplative, a problem I want to fix by going into 2022 with no expectations to make anything masterful or meaningful. I have no intention of breaking new ground, inciting revolutions, or changing lives. Not even my own. 

I just want to create boldly, following no rule or principle. Able to look back on 2022 with more canvases displayed than destroyed. Selah. 

by Yoh.