Penn’s Tim
The wife and I saw Tim’s Vermeer last night (for the well-worth-it price of $1 through Amazon streaming). The documentary is narrated by Penn Jillette and directed by Teller of Penn & Teller.
While the film focuses on the Johannes Vermeer painting whose secret Tim Jenison is trying to reveal, Tim himself was the primary artifact of our interest.
Tim is a successful entrepreneur, as communicated by the short introductory sequence. What the sequence (and indeed the whole film) grazes by is how Tim’s entrepreneurial success seems to come from the same type personality that might obsess over a dead Dutch painter.
Per the story, Tim parlayed his experience fixing broken electronic keyboards in his music band into a business fixing broken video games. And from this to a business writing software for the Commodore Amiga that now has a lineup of video production and visual imaging tools.
And then he made a lip-synching duck. You can see Tim tapping along attentively in the background. He is seemingly oblivious to how stupid this thing he probably sunk an inordinate amount of time into is because he is busy tracking the accuracy of the lip synching. Apparently you really can be successful and insane.
The Vermeer project is striking in the amount of work it required. Much, if not most of the work, seems to have gone into reconstructing the scene in the painting he was trying to replicate–not actually painting. Tim, while doing some woodwork that far surpasses anything I’ve dreamed of taking on myself, said that he took no joy in woodworking. He was doing it purely to get the objects right for his painting. “Dedication” sounds too weak a term for that.
Most of the documentary focuses on what everything Tim discovers tells us about Vermeer, but my interest is in what this tells us about Tim. My wife and I spent much of the viewing interrupting each other to exclaim how we’d never have the patience to do that, and we are both already in the upper half of the population for patience. Tim took on a high-effort, high-return, high-uncertainty, low-social-support project. People rarely do this. He seems to have done it several times.
It’s not only that Tim is patient and works hard. He works on what he wants to work on. It seems he always has. Music, games, flying, art. These are his interests, and you get the sense it doesn’t matter much to him if the work is paid or unpaid, embarrassing or sublime. Tim’s compass has no outside factors working on it. His story seems to be what happens when someone follows his ambition, wherever it may lead.
Thanks. I hadn’t heard of this until now, but it looks like I’ll be watching it soon.Report
Sounds interesting; reminds me of my younger sprout and sweetie, honestly. They’d rather live modestly and follow their experimental natures.
But in all honestly, the trust fund helps. Money is a facilitator, all the patience in the world won’t help if all your time is drained away worrying about stuff like the rent and putting food on the table. Money buys you the luxury of time to devote.Report
The film makes it very clear that this is all enabled by money earned through his company.
I know you didn’t contradict this, but I think it’s worth pointing out that money is certainly not sufficient. Most of my life that I have had free time and could do anything with it, I watched Gilligan’s Island reruns. I think most people would react similarly uselessly with a trust fund. Some fraction would, of course, do something useful. And a smaller fraction would do something that might be called ambitious, like learn Mandarin. I would submit that even among those with the capability, very few are willing to pursue projects where the outcome is truly uncertain and the path has not been illuminated by another.Report
“Useful” can be defined in many ways.Report
I saw Vermeer’s Girl With A Pearl Earring when it came to my city. A thrill!Report
For those who don’t know, the “Penn” in the title is Penn Jillette of Penn & Teller, who produced and wrote the movie.Report
Ah, nice catch. I’ll update the post.Report