Full review will be live on The Wingback July 8, 2024. https://kristenhallgeisler.com/blog/2024/review-the-long-run-a-creative-inquiry/

D’Erasmo has instead created the clearest example of the old writing saw “show, don’t tell” for a book about sustaining one’s creativity when the demands of family, the necessity of paid work, and the maintenance of friendships drain the energy you would otherwise put into art. She interviews a variety of artists—composers, dancers, actors, writers—who have been at their work for decades. The interviews are interspersed with memoir sections of the evolution and struggle to maintain her own creative practices. As she says in the prologue: “How do we keep doing this—making art?”

What a gift of a book! The author began with interviews with artists in different media-- like music, landscape design, dance, writing, sculpture-- asking the question, "How do we artists keep doing this-- making art?" But quickly, D'Erasmo brings her life into conversation with what she hears, and the reader finds themselves drawn in, too. All of us can find wisdom in this slim volume, but artists will find particularly apt gems here.

Many thanks to Graywolf and NetGalley for a free copy for review.

Thanks to NetGalley and Graywolf Press for the ARC!

Stacey D’Erasmo’s "The Long Run" is an engaging—albeit cluttered—collection of essays about what sustains artists in the twilight of their careers.

The premise of the book is simple: D’Erasmo asks successful artists to share what keeps them going. It’s the kind of question that many aspiring artists would love to ask their heroes, so there’s a pulsing momentum throughout the book, even in its weaker moments. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the answer to the question is also simple—it’s almost always some form of intimacy, whether that is with other people, nature, or the work itself. It’s a testament to the author’s skill that this feels like a robust theme to explore rather than a trite simplification. It might be the kind of cliché refrain that appears in artist talkbacks, but in D’Erasmo’s hands, it feels like an earth-shifting revelation worthy of prolonged attention.

Thematically, this is a gorgeous book; structurally, though, it’s a little muddled. Each chapter begins as if it’s about a particular late-career artist, but as soon as they share what sustains them, D’Erasmo makes a grinding shift from biography to autobiography. Her personal reflections are wonderful and insightful in their own right, but they constantly obscure the ostensible subject of each chapter. In a stronger book, it might feel conversational, but here it reads like a competition between two separate books. The issue is compounded by almost too much intertextuality, where it starts to feel like the author is listing everything she’s read on a subject, rather than forming a focused argument.

It’s like watching someone run through a museum, shouting disordered facts across the galleries.

That said, even when it doesn’t quite work, "The Long Run" is still exciting, sustained by Stacey D’Erasmo’s energetic voice and passion for art—it’s impossible to not share her enthusiasm.

"The Long Run" shares conversations with a broad spectrum of artists across disciplines to examine what has sustained their careers and creative practices over time. The interview subjects have been practicing for decades, and while the short answer seems to be that they simply did not quit, this book goes much deeper than that. Each interviewee faced individual personal and professional challenges, and many had careers that pivoted, evolved, ebbed and flowed. Some names are more recognizable than others, but they and the author all have compelling stories to share and much to be inspired by.

Thanks Graywolf and NetGalley for providing a reader copy in exchange for my honest review.