We’re discussing social media personas here on this blog. Each of us has one, like a sort of digital patronus. We control them and give them life, but they can take on a life of their own, too.
Clio Em, online, is me. This reflected self is creative, fun, and occasionally irreverent. She sings as well as I do but never hits any wrong notes, wears pretty dresses all the time and doesn’t lounge around the house composing at the piano in dance pants like I do. She is not a mobile photography enthusiast; she is a photographer.
Yet artists sometimes make the mistake of directly equating followers to fans and likes to true emotional connection. Of course this can be the case. But online, a like or follow can also indicate friendship, professional reciprocity, or it can be an efficient form of bookmarking. It’s helpful to understand who’s reading your posts, but also to realize that offline interaction is important, too.
The real value of social media, for me at least, is its use as a communications catalyst. Without Facebook or twitter, I could never have looked up and written to many musicians I very much admire and forged meaningful collaborations, which led to such opportunities as study, research, performances, and compositions. In all these cases, social media was the medium for communication. I used it as an initial contact point, and then jumped off from there to meaningful discussion, meeting in real life, and making music and art together. But there comes a point in my day when it becomes crucial to actually get offline and create, purely in the analogue world. To play an instrument or to sing, without distractions.
We digital natives no longer have the luxury, or the curse, of existing alone most of the time, and so when we do get this rare time alone offline, we tend to either value or reject it. At one point or another throughout our day, even during quiet moments, we are often in heavy and constant contact with others through our smartphones and computers. Others’ thoughts and feelings influence ours, and vice versa. For me as an artist, this means that I can work more easily with others. Sometimes it helps me get inspired. I can find performers to play my compositions at a moment’s notice, and I can seek out an ensemble to sing with just as easily. I can apply to festivals, grants, and other opportunities online. I can communicate with the people behind these opportunities faster and more easily. Yet it also means that at times, it is difficult to take the time to unplug and think things out without that online influence.
In certain situations, social media belongs in a concert setting, for example in digital and net art, or during live electronics performances and so on. But in the vast majority of cases, it’s probably a good idea to separate our online personas from our offline selves.
Photography by Georg Aufreiter
Clio Em is an award-winning musician, writer, and creative on a mission to discover new sound worlds. Drawing from her extensive classical piano, composition and voice training at institutions such as McGill University and the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna, Clio’s distinct crossover style fuses elements of pop, folk, classical, and electronic genres that blend together into an arresting whole. Her work with text complements her music. Clio Em’s instruments of choice include piano, various guitars and ukuleles, her own voice, electronics, found objects, and the occasional touch of cello, accordion, and small percussion instruments. Born and raised in Alberta, Clio Em now calls many places in the galaxy home, Canada and Europe among them. She writes at clio-em.com.