Tacoma’s got talent. There is no question. You’ll have your chance to see the folks who have the talent, along with the courage to show up, this Saturday at The New Frontier. It’s called Raw Talent, and it’s the second installment. The show is boasting a line up of 20 hungry performers, says organizer Zachary Marvick, who will host the show along with Nightgowns frontman Trevor Dickson.

“My hope is to get a lot of people in Tacoma together,” says Marvick. “A lot of times there seems to be no center point. I just want to do a nice event with a lot of people participating.”

Raw Talent will showcase mostly local performers, many with little or no prior experience on stage. There are no requirements for an act. Performers are allowed to do whatever they want. So far people have done spoken word poetry, music, comedy, skits, puppet shows, dance, etc. Content will range from dramatic to heartfelt to wild and experimental.

But it takes a hell of a lot more than talent to become a successful performer, artist, or what have you. I’ve known plenty of immensely talented people that ended up working at 7-Eleven or Starbucks, only finding time to create in their chosen medium when they weren’t too exhausted to pick up a brush or a guitar pick.

Talent, for all its value, is only the beginning. What’s the old saying — 10 percent inspiration and 90 percent perspiration? Yeah, that sounds right.

I have an old friend who recently caught the eye of Jerry “Wonda” Duplessis during a talent showcase in Manhattan. Duplessis is probably best known for his work on the Fugees first album. If all the paperwork doesn’t bury him, my buddy will be working with Wonda on an album that will reach audiences in 20 countries. We caught up recently as he made a mad dash through his old hometown, and spent a good hour talking about what it means, and what it takes, to “make it.”

“Most people aren’t ready to ride the White Tiger,” he said. “People want the results, but don’t want to travel the road that will take them there.”

Like the child who watches Jet Li in action, and says, “I want to do that!” — until they realize it would take years and years of immense physical and mental rigor to do what Jet Li does.

We live in a quick fix culture where the artist’s chief reward becomes adoration — an audience, and all the self-satisfaction that goes with it. Many artists fall off because the ego rewards — big stage, bright lights, compliments and fans — aren’t enough to fuel the kind of work required to become a master at whatever they endeavor to do. The audience — and the rewards it offers — has become problematic insofar as artists have come to depend on them to fuel their work.

As the conversation continued, we decided that an audience is not enough. It never was. And the audience always recedes, leaving the performer on stage or in the gallery, wondering why the hell they showed up in the first place.
 
“If people want to get anywhere, they have to remember why they love what they do,” he said. “That love is the only thing that will carry you to where you want to go.”