Originality, copying and inspiration

[Steve Klc]

Jaybee--when you say that "it makes little difference whether I am eating a dish prepared by its original creator or a fifth generation copy by a acolyte or opportunist chef, as long as what I am eating is the best that dish could taste" that operates on one immediate level--as a diner immune from larger issues and context.

My question to you is--would you then have no problem reading puff pieces on said accolyte or opportunist chef, written by a misinformed, unaware food writer, touting such culinary genius?

Otherwise--I'm with you completely, especially when you write: "I think people often confuse 'different' from 'innovative.' Uncreative people are often satisfied by being different rather than striving for truly creative innovation."  You could substitute "new" for "different" and indict some of the glossy mainstream food media in the process.

[jaybee]

My question to you is--would you then have no problem reading puff pieces on said accolyte or opportunist chef, written by a misinformed, unaware food writer, touting such culinary genius?

Wow, Steve, a reply before I had even finished editing my post!  Good morning to you.  My answer is yes I would have a big problem with that, and would hope that the uninformed writer would be embarrased by exposure of his/her ignorance.  Sometimes this takes a long time to happen, and it isn't "fair."  

On a larger scale of "theft" of credit for creativity, the current New Yorker has a review of two new books about the invention of television.  Both make it clear how David Sarnoff usurped (stole?) the innovations of Farnsworth to take for his own the financial rewards and acolades as the "father" of television.

BTW, this book review contains one of the most cogent descriptions of the creative process I've ever read.

[Steve Klc]

Cogent enough to quote and excerpt here under "fair use?"  If it were a paragraph or two within a larger essay--pull it out and paste it in here Jaybee.

[jaybee]

Here's a link to the whole article.

http://www.newyorker.com/critics/atlarge/?020527crat_atlarge

(Farnsworth) was a romantic, and in the romance of invention the creative process consists of two discrete, euphoric episodes, linked by long years of grit and hard work. First is the magic moment of conception: Farnsworth in the potato field. Second is the moment of execution: the day in the lab. If you had the first of those moments and not the second, you were a visionary. But if you had both you were in a wholly different category. Farnsworth must have known the story of King Gillette, the bottle-cap salesman, who woke up one morning in the summer of 1895 to find his razor dull. Gillette had a sudden vision: if all he wanted was a sharp edge, then why should he have to refashion the whole razor? Gillette later recalled:

As I stood there with the razor in my hand, my eyes resting on it as lightly as a bird settling down on its nest, the Gillette razor was born—more with the rapidity of a dream than by a process of reasoning. In a moment I saw it all: the way the blade could be held in a holder; the idea of sharpening the two opposite edges on the thin piece of steel; the clamping plates for the blade, with a handle halfway between the two edges of the blade . . . I stood there before the mirror in a trance of joy. My wife was visiting Ohio and I hurriedly wrote to her: "I've got it! Our fortune is made!"

If you had the vision and you made the vision work, then the invention was yours—that was what Farnsworth believed. It belonged to you, just as the safety razor belonged to King Gillette.

But this was Farnsworth's mistake, because television wasn't at all like the safety razor. It didn't belong to one person. May and Smith stumbled across photoconductivity, and inspired LeBlanc, who, in turn, inspired Swinton, and Swinton's idea inspired inventors around the world. Then there was Zworykin, of course, and his mentor Boris Rosing, and the team of Max Dieckmann and Rudolf hell, in Germany, who tried to patent something in the mid-twenties that was virtually identical to the image dissector. In 1931, when Zworykin perfected his own version of the television camera, called the Iconoscope, RCA did a worldwide patent search and found very similar patent applications from a Hungarian named Kolomon Tihany, a Canadian named François Henrouteau, a Japanese inventor named Kenjiro Takayanagi, two Englishmen, and a Russian. Everyone was working on television and everyone was reading everyone else's patent applications, and, because television was such a complex technology, nearly everyone had something new to add. Farnsworth came up with the first camera. Zworykin had the best early picture tube. And when Zworykin finally came up with his own camera it was not as good as Farnsworth's camera in some respects, but it was better in others. In September of 1939, when RCA finally licensed the rights to Farnsworth's essential patents, it didn't replace the Iconoscope with Farnsworth's image dissector. It took the best parts of both.

[Steve Plotnicki]

The writer of the article really oversimplifies things when he says "This is the reason that so many of us work for big companies,". Farnsworth is really just the typical inventor/creative person who places too much value on their creations and not enough value on having sufficient working capital to get the job done right. It's quite common to see a creator taking this type of self-righteous stance because they do not want to ackowledge the role that money plays in their success. Here as soon as I read that Farnsworth misgauged the amount of working capital he needed, I know he is doomed, especially since we are talking about something as capital intensive as the media business. But even though the writer doesn't say so, the implication is that Farnsworth doesn't want to (read need to) share the proceeds of his invention with too many investors. I'm not sure how much more working capital he needed, but there is some number that would have allowed him to corner Sarnoff, instead of vice-versa. But given the circumstances, I don't think it's fair to say Sarnoff took credit he wasn't entitled to. That is only true if you narrowly define creating TV as inventing the patents for it. But as the writer of the article makes clear, there's a lot more to it. And in reality, Sarnoff got credit because Farnsworth was a screwup as a businessman.

As for eating dishes that chefs copied, I much prefer to eat the original creation from the hand that made it. Although food and painting are not analagous, I don't really want to view a copied Van Gogh. I want to see the real thing. Experiencing food is the same though not really as individualized a discipline as painting. But even simple dishes like Robuchon's mashed potatoes are best enjoyed from his own hand. It is only in the environment of Robuchon's restaurant that we can experience them as part of a complete experience, as part of a package of flavors that will give them secondary and tertiary meaning.

[jaybee]

I agree with your comment about the value of having the business acumen and capital to make an invention into a business. But Sarnoff did more than that.  He ruthlessly usurped Farnsworth's ideas and denied him even fair compensation for his contribution.  You might say "all fair..." and that's capitalism, but it is also reprehensible, in my opinion.  The author makes a very strong point that television had many fathers, each contributing to the answer.  He says that Farnsworth's part was just that, a part of the ultimate solution.

You're more a purist than I when it comes to eating the "copy."

The analogy of painting copies to mimicing food recipes, though seductive,  is totally inappropriate.  To say that Robuchon is the Van Gogh of mashed potatoes may make good copy but to say that no one else's mashed potatoes, made after his method, can stand up to comparison doesn't work for me.  Sure when you throw in the "experience" of eating in his restuarant and knowing his own hand prepared them, you are mashing more than potatoes in the dish.

I'm sure seeing Van Gogh's work in St. Remy or Autueil would have more power than seeing it at the Met.  And maybe even one's interpretation and understanding would be enhanced greatly.  But mashed potatoes?  C'mon Steve.

[Andy Lynes]

my regret that chefs either want to, or feel pressurised to, devise menus of new and innovative dishes rather than perfect the preparation of the established repertoire.

Many chefs do not have the courage of their convictions or confidence in their own preferences and tastes.

In the UK, the nervousness is palpable : http://www.Caterer.com/archive....D=42552

[Steve Plotnicki]

"I agree with your comment about the value of having the business acumen and capital to make an invention into a business."

How Farnsworth lost his idea is insignificant compared to why he lost it. That it happened to be Sarnoff and that Sarnoff had a particluar style in business is just how it happened. Farnsworth could have lost it just as easily to somebody scrupulous. The fact that Sarnoff might have been unscrupulous (and the article hasn't convinced he was, only that he was hard nosed,) only means that Farnsworth needed that much more capital and acumen to accomplish what he set out to do. Look at what Sarnoff did at the 1939 Worlds Fair when he introduced television. There is no way Farnsworth ever would have figured out how to launch TV on that scale. If we had to rely on the Farnsworths of the world, TV might not exist to this day. But it is a romantic notion for readers that creative people get screwed. It sells lots of books. Unfortuntely the writer's pitch usually depends on having someone be the bad guy, even when most of the blame should be placed on bad business judgment.

As for the mashed potatoes, you have misunderstood what I wrote. I haven't said that the mashed potatoes can't stand alone. What I said is that Robuchon's mashed potatoes are better experienced as part of a meal he designed. It is only in that environment that one can fully understand the context of how the potatoes are supposed to blend in with the other dishes. How the spicing might be part of a larger palate and how the texture of the potatoes at the time they are served mesh with the other dishes as well as compliment the ones that preceded it. And of course I can go to a restaurant in NYC and eat mashed potatoes from the same recipe. But that misses the point entirely. Robuchon's potatoes are designed around the use of a certain type of potato that comes from a certain location, that are hand picked to his specifications, and where he uses a certain type of butter and a certain type of cream to get the consistancy and flavor right. In fact, all of those things might be custom grown/produced for him. Now how can that be recreated in NYC? And of course this doesn't even address the fact that he buys a certain type of Bresse Chicken to roast, and prepares it in a way that is intended to go perfectly with the potatoes!

You see where I think this is analagous to painting is that it is similar to how a painter organizes his work. The light he chooses to work in, the surface he paints on, the colors he chooses, how he mixes the paint, darker, lighter, thicker, thinner, all natural things that he manipulates to create an aesthetic. The reason that paintings are unique is that a painting  is really a series of choices as to how an artist decided to deal with all of those variables. I don't find the craft of cooking to be much different. The Robuchons of the world are always adjusting and tinkering to make their aesthetic work. This years crop of potatoes are more watery, too much rain in Britanny this year and the cows didn't pasture the same way as in past years and the butter is off. Truffles aren't aromatic this year for some reason. Weather in some growing region was too hot and things are overripe. Salt marsh lamb are perfect. Not to make it too cliched but, a meal at Robuchon is more than a highly expert chef cooking a great meal. It's about a craftsman who knows how to express

the terroir of the ingredients he has chosen to create something original that will have his signature on it.

[Steve Klc]

Steve--tie your comment "but it is a romantic notion for readers that creative people get screwed" back to the Trama example given by Lizziee, courtesy of cabrales.  Is there a correlation?

And, when you conclude with "Not to make it too cliched but, a meal at Robuchon is more than a highly expert chef cooking a great meal. It's about a craftsman who knows how to express the terroir of the ingredients he has chosen to create something original that will have his signature on it" aren't you actually making the case that another chef--even copying Robuchon's recipes, techniques and presentation--would in fact be making a wholly different dish--factored through his own unique aesthetic--with a different yet still "original" result?

Neither the Robuchon nor the copy would be inherently better, more creative or more original--and it would, hypothetically, be possible that the emulator/copier's dish would be a superior experience?

[Steve Plotnicki]

Steve -There is no such thing as authorship when it comes to recipes unless one makes sure that their stamp on a recipe is indelible. Most of the chefs who have managed to accomplish an imprimateur on a dish have done so because they are tireless self-promoters. People like Trama, who I find to be less than a good marketer of his talents are ripe to have their "creations" stolen from them. Of course it is possible that what he has created isn't a large enough advancement in cooking for it to be credited to anyone.

Some people are just magnets for public relations (Thomas Keller). Some are wallflowers who prosper but in relative obscurity from the public (Michel Bras.) But if you and I were to study why one is reknown and the other's reknown is limited to food fanatics, we would conclude that it's a funny combination of originality, personality and promotion. I mean look at the Robuchon mashed potatoes as an example. They are just mashed potatoes for god's sake. But everyone is willing to attach the Robuchon name to them because they have been so well publicized that way. On the contrary, I don't know of a single dish that Michel Trama is responsible for creating.

[Andy Lynes]

To say that Robuchon is the Van Gogh of mashed potatoes may make good copy but to say that no one else's mashed potatoes, made after his method, can stand up to comparison doesn't work for me.  

Perhaps the finest use of mashed potatoes I have come across in any artistic endeavour is in the children's TV series "Bodger and Badger" where it forms a central thematic motif. It's presence is threaded through the narrative of each episode so that it becomes almost a character itself, just as New York architecture became an integral part of the cast of players in Woody Allen's masterpiece "Manhatten".

However, to really appreciate the dramatic potential of mash, one must experience the live Bodger and Badger show which resonates with the power of early 1970's performance art. Here, one can draw comparisons to the use of mashed potato to the manner in which bodily fluids (semen, urine, vomit etc) were central to the work of Coum Transmissions.  

Although nominally a children's entertainment, Bodger and Badger offers a great deal to the adult viewer, using the crushed tuber as a metaphor, a cipher, a symbol if you will for the eternal struggle of life over death, truth over lies, eggs over easy.

Andy Cunnigham, creator of B&B, will I'm sure be recognised for his genius one day, and for his work in putting mashed potatoes where they belong. He truly is the Van Gogh of mashed potatoes.

[Gavin Jones]

Ouch!

I nearly cut my ear off then. V. poor knife technique.

[Wilfrid]

Bodger & Badger, eh?  Whatever happened to Sooty and Sweep?  They'd have known what to do with mashed potatoes.

And Andy, one phrase from that article struck me:  "Now, all the dishes here are my own..." says twenty-eight year old Daniel Clifford.  Well, good luck to him.  If he has created a menu-full of original dishes worth eating by his age, is doing better than Escoffier.  The point I was trying to make earlier, perhaps clumsily, is that I would first like to know if Daniel Clifford can make some of the dishes which are not his own, but which millions have enjoyed, before I embark on his slamon with chocolate (or whatever it was).  

[jaybee]

Some of what you (Steve P) are referring to as far as Robuchon and chef's reputations are concerned is a form of branding.  Branding, as it has become the fashion to call it, is as old as the hills.  People were willing to pay more or stay loyal to one brand of product over another because 1)  it reduced risk, 2)  it had a certain caché, 3) it provided benefits that were unavailable elsewhere.  So Robuchon became a brand once his reputation became established among more than just the people who actually ate his food.  The media are in part responsible for this, and in many cases, a skilled or charismatic personality does it, or professionals engineer it.  If someone has a lot of money to invest, he has an advantage over someone who doesn't as far as branding is concerned.  Others do it by force of personality.

I agree with your point that in the case of someone like Robuchon the total "package" (potatoes, chicken, veggies or whatever) was conceived as a coherent eating experience.  I also agree that the creative "artist" and craftsman" makes hundreds of choices, some conscious, others unconscious, on the way to the finished product.  The greater the skill, experience and talent, the more innovative those choices and combinations are, and the more startling is the end result.  

As for Sarnoff vs Farnsworth, it is true that Sarnoff had the where-with-all and drive to make Tv a mass success.  The inventive maverick or lonely creative genius is a romantic figure who makes a good hero for movies or books.  The movie released several years ago about Tucker, who created a new car company and ultimately failed despite a superior car, is a good example of this theme.  But you say it makes little difference whether a scrupulous or unscrupulous person takes the invention.  I get the feeling that you are arguing that might makes right, and too bad for people who don't understand that.  I know you well enough (I think) to believe you really don't believe that philosophy carried to it's extreme (then again, maybe you do?). I believe a "scrupulous" person or the law should see to it that the interests of inventors of technology are protected from strong predators who would profit from exploiting the technology.  Law suits are a poor remedy, as they take a lifetime and cost an arm and a leg.

[Lord Michael Lewis]

Farnsworth is really just the typical inventor/creative person who places too much value on their creations and not enough value on having sufficient working capital to get the job done right. It's quite common to see a creator taking this type of self-righteous stance because they do not want to ackowledge the role that money plays in their success. Here as soon as I read that Farnsworth misgauged the amount of working capital he needed, I know he is doomed, especially since we are talking about something as capital intensive as the media business.

This kind of reasoning is the standard money-man excuse for shafting creative talent.

Marc Thorpe where are you?

[Steve Plotnicki]

"aren't you actually making the case that another chef--even copying Robuchon's recipes, techniques and presentation--would in fact be making a wholly different dish--factored through his own unique aesthetic--with a different yet still "original" result?"

Steve Klc - The answer to that question is yes. But the problem is that the level of originality someone else brings to a dish usually has little meaning. Let's take a simple example of something with a unique taste where the chef has to apply only the slightest bit of technique. Let's take a steak from Peter Luger's. It's uniqueness derives from how they choose the meat and the environment they age it in. The cooking technique applied to it takes little effort. It's mostly based on the type of gas grill they use and at what temperature it cooks at. I'm sure that anyone on this board could learn the art of how to cook a steak ala Luger's in a matter of days. And with all the Luger's copycat restaurants out there, nobody has managed to improve on the original.

But I think it would take someone quite a bit longer to be able to learn how to prepare the Robuchon mashed potatoes from scratch and get them perfect. The level of subtlety needed in adjusting the recipe based on variations in things like how watery the potatoes are is quite demanding in my opinion, and the kind of thing that takes years and years of experience in kitchens perfecting. And there is evidence to back up my theory. Think of how long people have been making mashed potatoes. Why did it take until the 1980's for someone to perfect the dish so there was a commonly help opinion as to where you could get the best mashed potatoes? And to keep the analogy to painting, how many painters stood in the fields of Provence and painted the sky? Hundreds, thousands? If it was so easy, why does Starry Night stand so far above those other paintings?

Unfortunately, too little food has the unique qualities I have described. But places that have managed to capture a certain taste or a flavor thrive. And that is true whether we are talking about a simple Tuna Filet Mignon at Union Square Cafe a Salmon with Sorrel at Troisgros or a Chile Con Queso con Choriso with home made Tortillas at La Super Rica in Santa Barbera. They know something at those places that others don't.

This is why I can't find myself sympathizing with the writer of the article that we are responding to here. Creativity boils down to a series of choices one makes based on a combination of skills and environment. Sometimes those choices work out and sometimes they don't. But whatever the result, we are fortunate that others are the judges of what we create, something the writer of this article seems to have forgotten.

[robert brown]

My going to Restaurant Alain Ducasse New York recently for a birthday dinner occasioned me to reflect on the man, what it is that he does, and how best to describe him and his livelihood. I eventually came up with the conclusion that not only is Ducasse not an artist (I'm not even sure how artistic he is), but rather what he resembles most is a couturier. Like Giorgio Armani or Yves St. Laurent, Ducasse oversees, supervises, employs surrogates, licenses and leases his name, franchises, builds and renovates properties and once in a while creates something. He epitomizes more than anyone (with the possible exception of Wolfgang Puck) what cuisine has become, and continues to become, as a growing number of chefs try play the same game. Because so many of them, including the chefs just starting out, have taken on the couturier’s mentality even if they are not aware of it (and I would guess most of them are not), this is why they do not want to be seen making the culinary equivalent of a Balenciaga gown and why the so-called classic dishes of today are pizza with "crème fraiche" and salmon or a lobster club sandwich instead of those in the spirit of "saumon a l’oseille" (salmon in sorrel sauce) or "loup en croute". It is also why the unambitious or highly-principled (take your pick) fellows like Michel Trama become the cooking world’s answer, at least in terms of mentality, of those designers who are constantly screaming “copy cat” and launching (usually without success) copyright infringement suits against their colleagues.

I am sorry Wilfrid, but those "canards a l’oranges", "vols au vents" and "quenelles de brochette au sauce Nantua" have all but gone the way of black and white TV. Classic cuisine went and got stuck in the closet and mothballed; "demonetized" out of existence.

[Lord Michael Lewis]

Here's an interesting link that details Plotinki's actual attitude to the creative process, creative rights and their subordination in the face of greed.

http://www.robotcombat.com/history.html

[Andy Lynes]

I don't know why I bother sometimes, I really don't. I'm going to have to change tactics, I can see that. Has anybody got any ideas? Perhaps you'd like to send me a Private Message, you can do that by clicking "Your Messenger" at the top of the screen. Just send it to Andy Lynes, it'll get through. Maybe your doing something interesting this weekend, or read a good book recently. Whatever. I'm reading Carter Beats The Devil at the moment. On page 150, and really enjoying it. You should read it, really. I'm going to the circus with the family on Saturday, then on Sunday we've got to go to Ikea for a few things. Keeps you busy though doesn't it? Weathers awful for this time of year, can't believe it. Windy and cold. In May! Who'd have thought it! Did you see Big Brother tonight. Didn't like that gobby cow from South London, you know, whats her name. I'm going to vote her off. We had roast chicken tonight. Lovely. Hmm. Well. Must dash.

[Lord Michael Lewis]

I eventually came up with the conclusion that not only is Ducasse not an artist (I'm not even sure how artistic he is), but rather what he resembles most is a couturier. Like Giorgio Armani or Yves St. Laurent, Ducasse oversees, supervises, employs surrogates, licenses and leases his name, franchises, builds and renovates properties and once in a while creates something.

I would rather Ducasse profits from his own success than have his talent hijacked by some wise-guy with an army of lawyers.

[Steve Plotnicki]

Robert - Do you think that Duck a l'Orange and Quenelles de Brochette shouldn't have been demonetized? What is the argument for them having continuing value? And I am not making any value judgements when I ask that. Either of those dishes can be good when made really well. But why should they appear on menus?

As for Ducasse and your assessment of his role in his business, not every chef has found it necessary to become a brand in order to make themselves famous. Look at Ferran Adria. He isn't a tireless self promoter who has licensed himself out to third parties. His fame has come as a result of the unique technique he created. Unfortunately Michel Trama while being an accomplished chef hasn't managed to add anything as compelling to the culinary repetoire as Adria's foaming. Ducasse on the other hand is at the other end of the spectrum. I don't think he has created anything but how to franchise the 3 star experience.

[robert brown]

LML, it took me about 15 seconds to get what you mean. Irrespective of that, I do not mean to give the impression that I think Alain Ducasse is not a good or great chef. I have had some wonderful dishes of his, including some this week in New York. I also think that Wolfgang Puck has changed the face of American cuisine and also provided me a wonderful meal at Spago. However, Ducasse at the top end, and Puck somewhat below that, epitimize to me most what has been happening in the high-profile segment of cuisine. It is major change that some people find vexing and others exciting or rewarding. I wrote what I wrote in the post because I think it illuminates some, but hardly all, of the matters people raised in this thread.

[jaybee]

I don't think he has created anything but how to franchise the 3 star experience.

That's called "marketing" and it does have its rewards, however ignoble. Ask Ray Kroc's heirs.

[John Whiting]

I just love those few remaining rural French bistros where the chefs are anonymous!

[lizziee]

"If Trama is quoted accurately and not out of a much larger context, it's one of the dumbest things I've read--on several levels--attributed to an elite chef in a while.  Those "who worry about being copied" are as misguided as those who see copying as some sort of sin of commission and aren't able to talk about it honestly."

Steve,

Sorry for the long wait to reply to your question. I purposely did not comment at first because I was interested in how others viewed "copying." Also, this was just a small part of a long article that covered many topics - his cuisine, his influences, "Le terroir," the seven senses etc.

The reason Trama was so angry at Rostang is not only did Rostang outright copy The Double Corona dessert, a signature dish, but that he also did a "poor imitation." Steve, you hinted at this several times - bad, poorly executed copies drive a chef wild. Also, Rostang has implied that this is "his" creation or at least he has never given credit to Trama. Also, it took Trama ten years to perfect his Double Corona. There is no doubt that Trama is somewhat "the bad" boy of the French establishment, but I think this is more than just a whine.

By the way,  for the Double Corona, "Trama fashions a cigar - with billows of smoke and tobacco leaf --- by blending nougat,honey, whiskey, coffee cream, and Szechuan pepper. The likeness is uncanny and his juxtaposition of flavors even suggests the perfume of a fine Havana."