I was a competitive violinist as a teenager, and during those years I watched a lot of lessons and masterclasses that attempted to show students how to feel a piece of music — how to play emotionally, how to express oneself through the notes, how to be “authentic” in playing. Sometimes, this opened up the student, freeing a sense of nervousness or properness, and the music flowed all the easier; many times, however, did it feel forced. The student, often forced to play their instrument by their parents, clearly considered the violin a technical endeavor rather than a creative one, or at least had forgotten the creative aspect in the hours of scales and etudes they so studiously practiced. And in these scenarios did I get an unshakeable ick — the ick when someone is trying to turn art into a checklist, passion into something commodifiable. An uncanny valley of sorts. If authenticity is taught, is it authenticity anymore?
Similarly did I get that ick during the college app application. Peers chose their extracurriculars to pad their resumes, manipulated and exaggerated stories in their college apps, and paid exorbitant amounts of money to have college advisors make their stories worthy of an admission. For many, actually “loving what you do” was meant for what little free time you might have, or relegated to once you have your big-paying tech job 10 years from now — but you had to sell what you had.
Today, being in Silicon Valley, the ick reprises often. Doing hours of interview prep and Leetcode practice problems disgusted and confused me. Even the idea of studying product management and interpersonal skills for the sole purpose of getting a tech job left a bad taste in my mouth. And case studies like IDEO’s failures showed how the ick could create real consequences. Not truly believing why you’re doing something, forgetting the meaning behind your checklists, forcing authenticity — it brings problems for people who really need you to be authentic, whether that be in a musical performance or a mission to revive an underserved community.
And yet I’m guilty of following these checklists — doing interview prep, taking the help of college advisors, being told to be “authentic” in my violin playing. I do believe they’re useful, in that they may open up the right minds, just in the way it can for the right violin students. While creativity isn’t something that can be done in a sequence, it is something a sequence can enable.
And in the end, the audience can always tell if you’re faking it or not.
-Nathan Sariowan
