Please join me in welcoming our friend, our fellow alum, your Patriots fan, Michael Chiklis.
Thank you.
Thank you Dean Young.
Thank you faculty, parents, students, friends and welcome Class of 2018.
It’s a wicked beautiful day here in Boston, isn’t it?
Or at least it was when I wrote this speech in LA.
I am deeply honored to be here with all of you today, and this is a bit surreal if I’m
being honest, as Harvey, do they call you Harvey?
As Harvey said, I graduated from Boston University’s College of Fine Arts 33 years ago.
33 years.
So yeah I know, I know you’re wondering how I maintained all of this so well.
I’m sorry guys, but my beauty regime will remain a tightly guarded secret.
I can’t tell you everything in 15 minutes.
However, I will tell you that a whole lot has changed since I sat out there in my cap and gown.
First of all, the weed today is just off the chain
and it’s legal.
Not that I know anything about getting, uh, high-tech back then was, meant getting a new pager.
For us, social media was posting a keg party invite on the corkboard at the quad.
But today, today is literally a brave new world.
Technology has changed everything simultaneously for the worst, and for the better.
In all seriousness, 33 years ago, it was considered risky but courageous to pursue a life in the arts.
Now it might just be thought of as straight up crazy.
I mean think about it.
You’re all embarking on the most uncertain career paths imaginable.
Careers that, even in success, might not provide the kind of stable consistency of a normal job.
Insane, right?
But brave nonetheless.
And more important and necessary than ever.
Now let me explain before I give your parents a heart attack.
All of you here today are this generations visual artists, musicians, actors, directors, storytellers.
You and your respective roles in our society could not be more crucial than they are today.
Why?
Why is being an artist so important?
Because you are the arbiters of empathy and compassion in this world.
I’m going to say that again.
Artists are the arbiters, the purveyors if you will, of empathy and compassion in this world.
True, we entertain and amuse.
But much more importantly, we evoke people to think and feel, to discuss and debate,
to understand what it’s like to walk a mile in another person’s shoes, to speak truth
to power, to cast light on injustices, and truthfully reflect the state of our society.
These are the artists’ most profound contributions to mankind.
At a time where politics, mass media and social media often serve to overwhelm, distract,
desensitize, divide, and dehumanize us, it is vitally important that you create and propagate
art in all of its forms that enlightens and enriches the lives of the people it touches.
That’s why art is so critically important.
Because it puts you, it puts people in touch with their own humanity.
If artists don’t do this, who will?
I mean, nothing against bankers, but do you think a banker is going to put people in touch
with their humanity?
It’s not their job.
That’s our job.
That’s what we do.
And perhaps, I know kid, I’ll be done soon.
Perhaps, and this is serious, if we do it really well, the banker will bring humanity
to his work.
The politician will bring empathy to their policy decisions.
The police officer will bring compassion to a confrontation, and the CEO will bring thoughtful
consideration to the corporate board room.
Music, art, dance, theatre, film, television, all of these art forms make the world a far better place.
That’s just a fact.
Can you imagine our world without them?
Sounds like a particularly depressing episode of the "Handmaid’s Tale" to me.
Art is extremely powerful.
It has the power to change hearts and minds, to change how we view the world.
It’s been a catalyst for progress throughout the history of humankind.
When I was a kid I used to see pictures of The Mona Lisa, and wonder what the big deal was.
Until I saw her at The Louvre.
I wept like a child, standing there in a room full of strangers.
I know we all see the news, and it’s pretty bleak out there sometimes.
But the truth is, and this is the truth.
There has never been a better time in the history of the world to be alive, and to be
an artist, than right now.
Technology has created multiple platforms enabling any artist anywhere to make their
work available to the entire planet.
33 years ago, if I wanted to make a feature film or a TV show, I just couldn’t do it.
It was impossible.
You needed millions of dollars and a studio or a network to back you.
Now, mounting a theatrical production was a little less daunting, but you still needed
the space and a good deal of financial backing as well to get the job done right.
But now?
Now, you’re only limited by your own creativity, focus, drive and determination to deliver
your work to the whole world.
No matter what your art form, now you can get it out there to a potential audience.
Ay, but there’s the rub.
If an orchestra plays in the forest, and there’s no one there to hear it, did they still make music?
Or, more appropriately, if a singer sings a song in the city and there’s simply too much sound to hear it,
should the singer still sing it or should she just sell seashells by the sea shore?
Thank you days at McKelvey.
Look, my point is, that’s a plosive.
My point is, my point is it’s loud out there.
33 years ago, we only had a handful of TV and radio stations, a handful of movie studios
and record labels, a handful of art galleries and professional theaters in any given city,
and there was virtually no diversity.
Now, there’s so much content coming from so many voices with so many places to consume it,
it’s no longer a matter of being able to use your voice as an artist, it’s how
to be heard when you do.
Okay, so how do you do that?
How does your work cut through the noise and make an impression on an audience?
Now I’ve been thinking about this a lot myself recently because of all the changes
I see happening in the business and in the world.
Now, for some the answer is sensationalism, the art of the provocateur.
And in recent years, some have exploited this to great effect, using social platforms
to shock and outrage their audience.
But for me, the answer remains the same as it was 33 years ago, and 300 years ago, and 3,000 years ago.
Authenticity, truth, passion, humanity, virtuosity, quality, craft,
craft.
That’s what you’ve all been doing here.
Learning your craft in an environment that has allowed you to fail with impunity and
flourish in self-discovery.
The fact is, authenticity has never been more celebrated than it is today.
33 years ago, opportunities were simply not available to everyone.
Stereotypes were pervasive in our art and in or culture.
Now, those stereotypes are being shattered.
The old molds are cracking, giving way to you.
A new generation of culturally, spiritually and racially diverse artists reaching out
to a massive global audience.
There’s a lot more progress to be made, but the tides have definitely turned.
You all offer a unique perspective on the world.
So chances are, if something resonates deeply within you, it will connect with someone else.
People respond to authenticity.
When something is genuine it just smacks of the truth and becomes undeniable.
So express your truth with passion, love, and grace, and your work will attract an audience.
To do that, you need to believe in yourself.
Believe in your instincts, and your training, and ply your craft everyday.
Now I know this all sounds well and good and it may seem much easier said than done.
So, let me give you a real world example of how your training, your craft, will be the
foundation that you will rely upon and build your career upon for the rest of your lives.
I for one, never would have thought that my classical conservatory actor training from BU CFA would
save my ass in the context of a Marvel superhero movie.
But it did.
When I played the role of Ben Grimm, aka The Thing, in the Fantastic Four films, I was
literally buried alive in 60 pounds of latest rubber that was glued to my face and body.
It was suffocating and hotter than the 7th circle of hell.
When they first put it on me, it took 5 hours, and I felt a fear I had never known before
rising inside me.
For the first time in my career, in my life, I wanted to quit something that I had worked
very very hard to get.
Talk about careful what you wish for.
I had never been claustrophobic, but suddenly I understood the irrational panic of wanting
to get out of something and not being able to.
I actually spoke to a psychiatrist that very evening, and she told me to try to get to
of my head and find ways to be present and in the moment.
Well, I know how to do that I thought.
I’ve been being trained to be present and to live in the moment my whole life.
So I started to apply some breathing and relaxation techniques, some sense memory work.
Lo and behold, I was a lot calmer in the suit the next day.
Well, that was a great breakthrough, but now I actually had to play the scenes and impart
the character’s thoughts and feelings through this wall of rubber.
How was I supposed to do that?
Then I remembered studying the ancient Greek tragedies, the work we had done with masks
to convey or characters’ emotional life through physicality, and boom, it was clobbering time.
It worked.
Now I had been in a lot of shows over the last 33 years, and I know those films are
light family fare, but seriously, I consider that experience to be one of the greatest
triumphs of my life and career because I was able to use my craft to master my fears and
overcome a tremendous physical and emotional challenge.
Who’d have thought?
So many of the lessons you’ve learned here at BU will serve you throughout your life
and career, and sometimes, under the most unexpected of circumstances.
They say that if you spend 10,000 hours doing anything, you become an expert at it.
33 years ago, we called that paying your dues.
That’s still true today.
You’ve done the work.
You’ve earned your degrees.
You are all authentic originals, and you have skills.
Be proud of yourselves, and bring what you’ve learned here into practice, and your voices
will change our world for the better.
I suggest you live your lives that way too.
Travel, read, speak to people from all walks of life about everything, speak to the banker,
understand his point of view.
Don’t unfriend someone because you disagree.
Then the dialogue ends, and nobody wins.
Preach to the flock, not to the choir.
Create empathy and compassion.
Be curious, ask questions, and never stop learning and growing.
Your work will be better for it.
Deeper, soulful, more complex.
More importantly, you will be better for it.
There’s so much more I’d like to tell you, starting with my beauty regime.
So many things I wish someone had said to me when I was one of you sitting out there,
but there simply isn’t time.
So just know this.
You are part of a family.
You are now graduates of the Boston University College of Fine Arts.
And that immediately earns you a level of respect among your peers.
I wish for all of you an incredible journey filled with exciting adventures, health, success,
and happiness.
Laugh, cry, sing, dance, fall, get up, try again, live.
Work hard, and enjoy the fruits of your labor with family and friends and oh, yes, love.
Love each other.
Love is all you need, some artist once said.
Congratulations Class of 2018, and thank you all very very much.