Let's talk about genius, Rosalía

There are artists who, when they find a formula that works, cling to it like a lifeline. The market rewards repetition and punishes risk. It's easier to copy yourself than to try to break new ground. That's why Rosalía's new album, LuxIt has a value that goes beyond the specific work, far beyond itself. The Catalan singer could have continued exploiting the path that has brought her fame, recognition, and a windfall of millions. But she has decided to do the opposite: embrace uncertainty, take time disconnecting from the record label's dictatorship, explore unknown languages and registers, expose herself to making mistakes.

You may like it more or less; it may be a more or less accomplished work. It could even be—and I'm not saying it is—an uneven album. Or quite the opposite, a perfect one from beginning to end. We're not talking about that. The important thing here is that to truly create, and even more so to become great, you need the courage to make mistakes. All great artists screw up. Creation doesn't progress without the willingness to tear it apart.

But risk alone doesn't make an artist. Nor is risk a naive act. Rosalía doesn't improvise; she works from a place of experience. And this brings us to an idea we should champion much more often, especially after so many years of confusing spontaneity with talent and distancing young people from all tradition. We're talking about training, about craft. In this regard, the late, great writer Guillem Frontera transcribed a conversation with the painter Ramon Canet that it's almost a duty to recall here: "Without a good command of the craft, you end up going down paths you probably didn't want to take. Craft is essential." sine qua non to achieve creative freedom." And the artist added: "Mastery of the craft should not be confused with skill or ease in doing things, which so often leads to superficial work. It means professional training, of an artisanal nature, to get where you want to be. Without that, you must cede too much ground to a poor substitute for creative freedom, which is improvisation."

Rosalía, with the super work that is Lux, This perfectly exemplifies this idea. His classical—and diverse—training is not a biographical anecdote, but a central tool of his creative freedom. He knows tradition and respects it, keenly aware that no one starts from scratch. And it is with this knowledge that he can transform the aces he holds into wild cards to use wherever he wants, wherever he needs them. Every creative decision, every deviation, every break has a solid foundation, because there is craftsmanship that underpins it.

That is why the question is not whether the destination is flawless or whether it could have been better. What is important is that the artist advances along the path he chooses, not along the one imposed by the market, inertia, fear, or his own limitations. And it is from this point that, more often than not, genius is found.