“It was the perfect moment (to stop). The most important word in art is ‘proportion.’ How much? How long is this joke going to be? How many words? How many minutes? And getting that right is what makes it art or what makes it mediocre.”
— Jerry Seinfeld, when asked about why he ended Seinfeld.
One of the world’s greatest sprinters, Usain Bolt, was once asked in an interview why he decided to retire at age 31, when he could have gone on for at least few more years.
He shared a conversation he once had with a fellow sprinter, Michael Johnson. He asked Michael a similar question, “Why did you retire? You were at the top of your game.”
Michael replied, “I had done everything I wanted to do.”
For Usain, he felt the same way after the Rio Olympics. His goal was to win three Olympics. And after he did that, he had no more motivation to go on.
“If you have no motivation to do anything, it doesn’t make any sense,” he explained. “You’re not gonna put your 100% into it.”
A similar sentiment has been expressed by Deryck Whibley, the lead singer and songwriter behind Sum 41, who are currently on their final tour.
It seems inconceivable that Deryck would break up his band after nearly 30 years, when the band recently rebounded from rock bottom, and are now at their peak. Their relationship is at their strongest, their performances are tighter than ever, and they collectively feel that their latest album Heaven and Hell is the best they’ve made.
But that’s exactly why they need to end.
As Deryck explains in his memoir Walking Disaster, “I didn’t want to bring this band down. If my passion and enthusiasm started to wane, then I would pull Sum 41 down. I can’t fake anything I do.
“I didn’t want to drag a burn-out, lesser-than version of Sum 41. We’d done that. I didn’t want to just go through the motions, putting on boring shows and making mediocre music, just for a paycheck. I’d made a decision a long time ago to never to do anything for money, and I’d stuck to it. I refused to be the miserable rock star sitting backstage in a sold-out arena dreading to go out on stage.”
Sum 41 set out into the music industry on their terms, championing their blend of pop punk and heavy metal, before it was cool. And now, they are ending on their terms, too.
It’s rare to see this level of integrity nowadays. For many of us, “quiet quitting” is the norm, whereby we would put in the bare minimum into our work just to get through the day, when we already feel emotionally and mentally checked-out. We don’t know what our goals are in the first place, so we just keep going, because we don’t know when to stop.
The effect of quiet quitting is especially noticeable in art. Because your canvas doesn’t lie. When you’re tired, or when you no longer have anything honest or substantial to say, or when you’re just doing it for a paycheck, it really shows in your work.
This is also about the legacy that you want to leave for your art, too.
Not every piece of art needs a sequel. There’s no point in putting out one tired continuation or spin-off after another, when you’re just adding to the noise, when you know you’ve said everything you’ve had to say. You’re ruining your own art by stretching it beyond its means.
It’s worth thinking hard about what you’re trying to accomplish for yourself, and for your art. What kind of impact do you really want to have, and how do you know when you’ve gotten there? Also, what’s the point of creating art, if your heart isn’t in it?
Your art deserves to end, at some point. So honor it by letting it end on a high note.
Izzat Zailan 