Make Art Make Money: Lessons From Jim Henson on Fueling Your Creative Career by Elizabeth Hyde Stevens
Authors: Elizabeth Hyde Stevens
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projects.… We were shooting the jogging scene in Central Park and there were a few
camera problems which caused a delay. Before Jim’s assistant could whisk him
away to the awaiting car a little boy walked up, his mouth agape at the sight
of Kermit the Frog. The little boy started talking to Kermit, totally oblivious
to Jim’s arm coming out one side, wide eyed to the wonder of the moment. It was
so memorable to me because time just stopped; Jim started interacting with the
little boy oblivious to all the commotion around him. Before long other kids
walked up and soon Jim was entertaining an entire group of kids. It was a
wonderfully magical moment where you experience someone’s true joy with their
work.” [5]
This idea that “time just stopped” would feel
familiar to artists who often lose track of time when they work. In truth, they
lose track of much more than time—they often forget hunger, cleanliness, money,
and other worldly preoccupations while “in the zone,” the saying goes, or in
what Hyde might call the “protected gift-sphere where the work is created.” [6]
The scene in Central Park might lead us to
believe that Henson’s “true” self was a children’s performer. Though he could
certainly put on that hat, it was just another extension of Henson’s career—not
the real core of him. In fact, even though Sesame Street made Henson
famous beyond belief, he reportedly called up the show’s co-creator, Joan Ganz
Cooney, and told her, “You have ruined my life. Why did you have to be so
successful? I am now living my worst nightmare.” [7]
Though Sesame Street jump-started
Henson’s career, he was now pigeonholed as a children’s entertainer. Henson did
not want to be stuck working for just one group of people. Just as his
true calling was not commercials, neither was it educational TV. Henson wanted
to entertain everyone .
Jim Henson clearly understood how to talk to
different audiences, whether it was a group of kids in the park or a group of
IBM salesmen in Nassau. He spoke each’s language. For the businessmen, he spoke
business-ese. The pitch reel for The Muppet Show explained to CBS executives
that the show’s great ratings were going to make everyone rich. Henson’s
character promised it would be
[a] show that will be loved and adored by every Nielson
home in the country. Small children will love the cute, cuddly characters.
Young people will love the fresh and innovative comedy. College kids and
intellectual eggheads will love the underlying symbolism of everything. Freaky,
longhaired, dirty, cynical hippies will love our freaky, longhaired, dirty,
cynical Muppets. Because that’s what show business is all about! [8]
Was Henson “on the side” of the CBS executives
who wanted Nielson ratings or “on the side of” the longhaired, dirty, cynical
hippies? Like a double-agent movie, do we know where Henson’s loyalties really
lay? The answer requires us to do away with this concept of being on one side. Henson
said in 1979 that the Muppets “transcend all age groups. Their satiric comment
on society seems to delight all ages.” [9] Henson’s satire—like the gentle mockery of Don Quixote—parodied everyone. He
didn’t just parody the businessmen for the artists or the artists for the
businessmen. He parodied all of us for all of us.
Henson wasn’t lying to the executives when he
said he wanted his new show to be a hit across all demographics. He truly wanted
the ratings that they wanted, but for a different reason. In Street Gang ,
Michael Davis explains that Henson and Sesame Street director Jon Stone
had a very specific idea about entertainment, one that many of us today do not:
Because Henson and Stone were children of radio’s
golden age, in adulthood they sought ways to provide contemporary families with
a reason to sit around and be entertained, just as many once had in front of a
full-throated Philco floor model. [10]
This calls to mind that image of
camera problems which caused a delay. Before Jim’s assistant could whisk him
away to the awaiting car a little boy walked up, his mouth agape at the sight
of Kermit the Frog. The little boy started talking to Kermit, totally oblivious
to Jim’s arm coming out one side, wide eyed to the wonder of the moment. It was
so memorable to me because time just stopped; Jim started interacting with the
little boy oblivious to all the commotion around him. Before long other kids
walked up and soon Jim was entertaining an entire group of kids. It was a
wonderfully magical moment where you experience someone’s true joy with their
work.” [5]
This idea that “time just stopped” would feel
familiar to artists who often lose track of time when they work. In truth, they
lose track of much more than time—they often forget hunger, cleanliness, money,
and other worldly preoccupations while “in the zone,” the saying goes, or in
what Hyde might call the “protected gift-sphere where the work is created.” [6]
The scene in Central Park might lead us to
believe that Henson’s “true” self was a children’s performer. Though he could
certainly put on that hat, it was just another extension of Henson’s career—not
the real core of him. In fact, even though Sesame Street made Henson
famous beyond belief, he reportedly called up the show’s co-creator, Joan Ganz
Cooney, and told her, “You have ruined my life. Why did you have to be so
successful? I am now living my worst nightmare.” [7]
Though Sesame Street jump-started
Henson’s career, he was now pigeonholed as a children’s entertainer. Henson did
not want to be stuck working for just one group of people. Just as his
true calling was not commercials, neither was it educational TV. Henson wanted
to entertain everyone .
Jim Henson clearly understood how to talk to
different audiences, whether it was a group of kids in the park or a group of
IBM salesmen in Nassau. He spoke each’s language. For the businessmen, he spoke
business-ese. The pitch reel for The Muppet Show explained to CBS executives
that the show’s great ratings were going to make everyone rich. Henson’s
character promised it would be
[a] show that will be loved and adored by every Nielson
home in the country. Small children will love the cute, cuddly characters.
Young people will love the fresh and innovative comedy. College kids and
intellectual eggheads will love the underlying symbolism of everything. Freaky,
longhaired, dirty, cynical hippies will love our freaky, longhaired, dirty,
cynical Muppets. Because that’s what show business is all about! [8]
Was Henson “on the side” of the CBS executives
who wanted Nielson ratings or “on the side of” the longhaired, dirty, cynical
hippies? Like a double-agent movie, do we know where Henson’s loyalties really
lay? The answer requires us to do away with this concept of being on one side. Henson
said in 1979 that the Muppets “transcend all age groups. Their satiric comment
on society seems to delight all ages.” [9] Henson’s satire—like the gentle mockery of Don Quixote—parodied everyone. He
didn’t just parody the businessmen for the artists or the artists for the
businessmen. He parodied all of us for all of us.
Henson wasn’t lying to the executives when he
said he wanted his new show to be a hit across all demographics. He truly wanted
the ratings that they wanted, but for a different reason. In Street Gang ,
Michael Davis explains that Henson and Sesame Street director Jon Stone
had a very specific idea about entertainment, one that many of us today do not:
Because Henson and Stone were children of radio’s
golden age, in adulthood they sought ways to provide contemporary families with
a reason to sit around and be entertained, just as many once had in front of a
full-throated Philco floor model. [10]
This calls to mind that image of
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