I once heard Steve Jobs recite the following quote by Pablo Picasso when explaining why Apple is so good at innovating:
Good artists copy; great artists steal.
At the time, I had only a general idea of what this means: copying differs from stealing in that copying leads to unoriginality whereas stealing means to take something and make it yours. However, I didn't yet have the concrete experience to solidify my certainty and ingrain it into my psyche. So, it was just a useful but purely intellectual concept.
However, this past semester, I've gained a real sense of what this quote means as I've revived my love for dancing (popping, to be specific). This semester I've attended every single practice, each of which is taught by dancers much more experienced than I am. I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to learn from the best, and it is quite humbling to say the least. Dancing, I've learned, is a form of art that is closely tied to Picasso's quote.
As any dancer (or artist) knows, mastering the fundamentals is a prerequisite for branching off into more advanced techniques. Much like constructing a tower, building upon a weak foundation leads to disaster. However, after learning the basics, I found it to be exceedingly difficult to develop my personal style. While I was told by my teachers and peers that I had great form, I knew that something was missing. I knew my dancing was lacking that spark, that style that makes it uniquely me.
Then, I tried something new. I searched YouTube for great poppers (e.g. Corbin, Radd Chad, Lady Lassen, JiGSTYLE) and tried to mimic their styles exactly. While I had (and still have) trouble pulling off some of their moves as they are much more advanced than I am, I realized that my personal style was beginning to blossom. Conan O'Brien, a famous comedian, nailed it exactly when he said this during a Dartmouth commencement speech:
It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique. It's not easy, but if you accept your misfortune and handle it right your perceived failure can become a catalyst for profound re-invention.
He pointed out that all of the most successful comedians of his generation tried to emulate David Letterman but, because of their own quirks and mannerisms, they were pulled in different directions. Yet, their failures to become Letterman made them some of the funniest people of their generation. Likewise, a much younger Letterman emulated Johnny Carson, the funniest comedian of his generation, but failed to hit the mark in a thousand different ways.
Put in the context of my dance life, I failed to mimic those great dancers exactly but, as a result, my style now uniquely defines me; I stole their moves as I made them mine. And, when they were beginners, I'm sure they also emulated their heroes and failed to become their perceived ideals, thus making them unique. However, I am in no way claiming that I am as great as they are, as I'm certainly not: nothing can replace their hard-earned years of experience. But I do believe that I've been improving, and I'm proud of that.
These past few months have made me realize that nothing is original, as creativity is simply a combination of emulating and making connections. So, be shameless about stealing (but not copying!) great ideas in not only dance, but in any competitive field.
Why reinvent the wheel when you can stand on the shoulders of giants?