The growth of an artist—whether it be a musician, a painter, a writer, or something different altogether—is often measurable. It is often a visible reflection of the artist’s growth as a person, a vivid exploration of art reflecting life. With this year being such a monumental year for music, the very essence of this “growth” that many artists seek has been questioned. While there have been amazing musical strides this year, beautiful combinations of jazz, soul, hip-hop, and R&B, there has also been very visible evidence of stagnancy in some musicians.
The progression of a musician’s artistry is one that is sometimes hard to define. This is not to say a new release of a musician will be your favorite album because it is artistically more developed, but the musician is evolving even further, recreating their music and themselves. To be quite honest, you may utterly hate the new music your favorite artist is releasing, you may hate their new sound, but assuming they are not musically inept, that they are not selling faux versions of themselves to make money, their evolution is just a process that will have to be endured. Take Kanye West for example. "The Life of Pablo" was extremely different from "Yeezus" which was extremely different from "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy" which was extremely different from "808s and Heartbreaks" or "College Dropout" and the like. Ignoring Kanye’s mistaken views of racism—does racism exist or not, Ye? Pick a side—or his controversial antics (was that model call really only to exclude white people, Mr. West?), it can’t be ignored that Kanye West has been at the forefront of musical ingenuity. Many people hated Yeezus. It was too much noise, too many hard beats, the rock and electronic influences were too heavy. Yeezus isn’t my personal favorite of Kanye by any means, but I respect his growth as an artist. We all “miss the old Kanye.” We miss the “All Falls Down,” “Slow Jamz,” backpack rapper with the smooth beats and spoken word flow. But 2004 Kanye has had over a decade to grow and 2016 Kanye is riding an entirely different wave. If Kanye stayed his 2004 self, we may not have gotten "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy," which some argue is his most ingenious creation.
Some artists have continued to grow and develop as artists without completely changing their sound. Just look at Beyoncé’s "Lemonade." Beyoncé went from "Dangerously in Love" to creating an entire visual for "Lemonade," a powerful testament to black women. Her growth is immeasurable with references to powerful West African deities (called orishas), and the equally powerful story of the enslaved peoples of Igbo Landing (an act of mass resistance against slavery in which the enslaved Igbo people chose suicide over enslavement). Dripping with femininity, Beyoncé even spotlights the mothers of black men who were unjustly murdered by the very people enlisted to “protect us,” black men who were unjustly murdered by a system of inequality. As a Bey fanatic, her evolution as an artist and a performer is vividly observable.
Recently, rapper Mac Miller dropped his album "The Divine Feminine." The kid who rapped on peppy beats, rapping about Donald Trump is very different than the smooth rapper who glides on beats heavily influenced by jazz and neo-soul in this latest album. Of course, Mac Miller has grown a long way from his K.I.D.S days. His project "Watching Movies With The Sounds Off" (WMWTSO), was dark and heavy, capturing a dark mood and a mind filled with depression and mourning. I can recall playing “Red Dot Music” for quite a few people and I remember their shocked expressions when they found out it was Mac Miller who was rapping alongside Action Bronson. Not only is The Divine Feminine a growth from Miller’s early rap career, it shows the growth of his mental state. Art and life are both intersections and reflections of each other. So profound is this linkage that listening to certain songs like “REMember” with lyrics vividly describing grief and mourning (“it’s a dark science, when your friends start dying”) it’s not hard to reflect on the mental state Mac Miller was in when he was in his WMWTSO era. Compare that to the silky piano melody on the first song on "The Divine Feminine": Congratulations, a love song featuring neo-soul great Bilal, that features lyrics such as “This sun don't shine when I'm alone, I lose my mind and I lose control, I see your eyes look through my soul…I felt the highs and they felt like you.” 
I like Mac Miller’s personal growth as seen through his music to the growth of Chance the Rapper. Chance has always made feel good music, but "Coloring Book," his latest release, shows his growth as a person as well as a musician. "Acid Rap" is still my favorite project of his, but I can see his growth as a rapper; I can see his evolution as a person overcoming the demons he was trying to battle in "Acid Rap."
This comparison of musicians who have grown would last forever—and that’s just with 2016 releases. I could talk about Isaiah Rashad’s "The Sun’s Tirade" compared to "Cilvia Demo," or Frank Ocean’s "Blonde" compared to "Channel Orange," or even his releases pre-name change (back when he was still Lonny Breaux), or any of the other amazing albums from amazing artists that dropped this year. But, like I said, that would take forever. I could even discuss the musicians who have remained stagnant: yes, I’m talking about Drake. But deciphering the many artists who have shown little growth would also last forever. Growth as an individual is crucial: we all should be constantly molding ourselves to be better versions of ourselves. With that being said, growing as an artist should be no different. True artistry takes place when normalcy is pushed through, when the grain is worked against, when we struggle while battling ourselves to be better than the person we were and work towards the person we could become.
