I am disturbed by the media blitz trying to convince us that we all have an artist inside and therefore all we have to do is joining a casting to be discovered .
First, there is not an “Unique Artist” inside all of us. At least not an exceptional being, just for the meaning of the word. Creativity resides in anybody, but outstanding talent is scarce and badly distributed. People with incredible talent is, as I say, exceptional , and very few among them make it to stardom. Ephemeral or not , talent is always difficult to be appreciated.
Second, the casting is not enough. Many times the pop stars “discovered” in the casting have a long career behind them , studying music theory from two years old and hanging out with Mozart (or whatever ) from fifteen. Work, work and work.
Third, even with talent and hard work , there are other filters . The “children of” and similar will always have it easier to be on the spot. Just for the network of “scene people ” around them.
Let me return to the topic. This overbooking of big brothers who fight , sing , take care of pigs , are lost on an island and then dance is creating a very dangerous parallel reality. With so much sixpenny glamour and glitter, values such as effort and empathy are lost. Nor do I know where it’s going to go my country (or my continent ) with only singers, commentators and presenters if nobody wants to become vocational doctors, teachers , firefighters and seamstresses.
But what really worries me is the sight of generations (mine included ) with an excessive ego and a very low tolerance for frustration. Not only do we suffer with pulpy tunes, coarse books or crap puppet dramas, but these so-called artists are tortured and depressed thinking that the world is unfair and that their art is not understood.
Some months ago, a Big Brother contestant committed suicide in France. He could not bear returning to normal life.
I have already turned off the TV. More than four years ago.