Of cabbages and critiques
 

Asked whether the university stifles writers, Flannery O'Connor replied that, in her opinion, "they don't stifle enough of them."

That seems to be the thinking of the fellow with whom Robert Genn begins the latest installment of his newsletter. Genn's own perspective has evolved from the O'Connor/Oudendag take on the subject -- though he does not dismiss their approach. Critiques on this Forum partake of all these philosophies, over time.

I thought Genn's observations thought-provoking -- there is considerable merit and usefulness in articulating our practices and prejudices for closer scrutiny, and Genn does so perceptively and with surprising frequency -- and since he encourages in each letter the forwarding of it to friends, I'll take that as permission to reproduce part of this one, here, for whatever you wish to take from it. (If you're not familiar with Robert Genn and his newsletter, you can begin the search at www.painterskeys.com )

I totally agree , especially with this quote. I try to adhere to " If you have nothing nice/constructive to say, say nothing at all" . People who cross the line and tear into others to humiliate them into utter defeat, have no place to consider themselves teachers. A true teacher guides and if he/she feels the pupil is not responsive should withdraw his/her help
in a civilized manner.

Constant praise or in the setting of the forum, repeated praise just to join the chorus, is not fair either. Regardless of level of accomplishment, every artist should realize there is something to be learned by the observation of others. I find it refreshing when someone points to the need of a little correction or adds an opinion, which could push the artist's abilities just a tad more to give the work that extra " umph".

As the article pointed out, those who are not serious about learning, will soon drop out. Becoming a successful portrait artist is no easy task and my hat goes off for all those, who hang in there, no matter how cruel and insensitive others have been to them!

I am reading "The Art of Possibility" by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander and like to recommend it to those who love to teach and those who consider themselves students.

The book addresses the road blocks we create for ourselves and others, either through existing fears of failure, negativity or wrong perception of the way things are and offers ways to think outside the box and see the possibilities that are abound.

It teaches that even as accomplished professionals, rather than assuming a role of the "know it all" , the instructor can learn great insight from those waiting to be taught. Examples are given in the book.

Furthermore, by becoming a participant in the students growth, rather than a domineering leader, the teacher is able to break the wall of fear of failure that exists for almost every student. Once the student is no longer hampered by the need to conform to the teachers ideals, he/she is able to learn on their terms and experience what it means to be creative.

This does not mean there should not be expectations that have to be met in order to achieve a certain skill level, but rather a shift in the way the instructor teaches and relates to students.

The student in turn, when given too much freedom to pursue their studies tends to get lazy, but by being presented with a challenge such as " paint x number of paintings and show how you solve this problem" is more bound to learn from their mistakes. It allows the student to use his/her skill at the time and come up with new possibilities, thus allowing them to learn on their own accord and surprise us with new innovative ideas.

This book is also great for those who are looking for ways to market themselves, but I won't get into that subject on Steve's thread.

There is no impediment to success that is the equal of fear. Mastery of materials, sensitivity to line and composition, development of an aesthetic, selling your stuff -- all child's play compared to making our peace with the kinds of fears that most of us entertain in our lives. We see masters at work and imagine they are fearless -- and how we wish we could be -- but most often what we're witnessing is the way one behaves when fears have been deliberately approached, examined and understood, and thereby neutralized.

As often as not in the critique process, my experience has been that the alleviation of a student's fears produces results as quickly as a tutorial on some element of drawing or painting. (As with Robert Genn, above, I'm not talking about mindless affirmation without more.) Most fears the size of an SUV when approaching from behind are in reality pea-sized when faced full-on. We already know a lot more than we think we do. We are innately talented in measure far beyond what we will ever use. If only we can get out of our own way (mindful of the adage, "If you think you can't -- you're right.")

Those favorite teachers that we all remember from our past educational experiences knew how to draw us through those passages that were otherwise closed to us, for our own fears and failures of confidence, while making sure that the discovery was self-discovery. I still love every one of them to this day.

And there is no motivator TOWARD success that is the equal of fear either.

Fear of a dwindling bank account, fear of the possibility of an unveiling that might be received with a less than enthusiastic response, fear of one day finding out that substandard materials or processes may have doomed some project from the start, fear of having the quality/content/style of the work rejected outright, fear of overseas competition, fear of changing market conditions..... the list could go on and on.

Fears like those, and plenty others, catapult many artists out of bed every morning and into the studio. Fear is one of the motivators that presses them firmly from behind to create the very highest quality work they can and to work hard every day at getting better with each painting. (Of course, the joy of painting itself pulls artists into the studio day after day, too!)

Fear can be paralyzing if it gets out of control, but can be one heck of a motivator as well.

Yes, point taken. I was focusing on the kinds of debilitating things that keep us from achieving goals, rather than the sorts of practical considerations (mortgages, tuition, hunger pangs, vanity) that motivate us.

My "goal" is to be so impelled toward an end through desire and ardor and an appreciation of the pleasures of excellence, that I have no sense of being chased by fears that I'm not up to the task. If I could get there, I'm pretty sure that the mortgage would get paid and the unveilings would go well. I have never completely achieved this level of confidence or serenity (or success), but I'm under construction.

My experience is that long before the disappointing unveiling or the missed payment or the abrasive critique (which is usually spot on, at least technically), I have already disappointed myself in some way and I already knew it, by not being disciplined and true to the work. I can rarely feign surprise that I haven't worked up to my potential. Or if, on the other hand, I have done my work as well as I could, then others' critiques or disappointments aren't daggers that I feel I have to grasp and plunge into my own soul -- a tendency that young and vulnerable artists may have when faced with withering appraisals. There can be little satisfying progress in the dim light of such feelings, but we are in charge of disarming those fears.

And to come around to the point of the thread, the best instructors/critiquers guide us in that endeavor.

Aesthetic Jurisprudence
 

It seems that the philosophy of art criticism has been a topic of discussion for a while. In his 1921 essay "Aesthetic Jurisprudence" George Jean Nathan wrote some insightful musings on art and criticism:

"Yet criticism is itself an art. It might, indeed, be defined as an art within an art, since every work of art is the struggle between the heart that is the artist himself and his mind that is the critic."

"The little mind and its little criticism are the flattering foes of sound art. Such art demands for its training and triumph the countless preliminary body blows of muscular criticism guided by a muscular mind. Art and the artist cannot be developed by mere back-slapping. If art, according to Beule, is the intervention of the human mind in the elements furnished by experience, criticism is the intervention of the human mind in the elements furnished by aesthetic passion. Art and the artist are ever youthful lovers; criticism is their chaperon."

Simon

Michelle, I agree that fear can be a motivator, but doesn't it also place a noose around the artist's neck? People tend to stick to the familiar, "the thing that proved to work in the past " in order to assure that the bills get paid. I would call that the Kinkade phenomenon ( I'm in no way degrading his work). Those paintings work, they made him very wealthy, yet if he has not branched out, hasn't this also hindered him from exploring new ideas in his artistic growth?

Steven, being a perfectionist I have taken myself way too seriously over the years and I have gotten tired of living and conforming to the rules "within the box". I share your goal and I am also working on breaking negative ways of thinking.

I used to moan and groan, when things were not working the way I expected them to until I read this:

Things are the way the are, but there are endless ways we can make things turn around and work for us. The trick is to find them.

If I listened to the rejection of gallery owners that portraiture does not sell in southern California, I would be painting landscapes now. Instead I have marketed myself, attended shows, approached stores, did home parties, etc.

If I wanted to wait until I have mastered every aspect of traditional portraiture, I might be too old to see what I was painting or too weak to hit the pavement to market myself. Instead I have chosen to do the best given with the skills I have at the moment and to keep working at getting better with each painting.

If I wanted to pay the bills I would have had no choice, but to paint landscapes. Instead I chose to branch out and find things that still fall within the field of portraiture and paint those to pay for my expenses.

If I wanted to do things the conventional way, I would still be waiting for sales. I would never admit to doing "home parties", but they do work if you put on enough charm and are passionate enough about what it is you do.

I chose to overcome my fears and anxieties and adapted the 2nd marketing scout's way of thinking. I forced myself to think outside the box and look for the possibilities. The lack of a portrait market in my area is no longer a negative thing, but a golden opportunity. By the time I am done, if you don't know what I do, you must not live in my area!

Negativity , whether imposed by teachers, contemporaries, family members, etc. hinders our progress. As long as we can be truly honest about our shortcoming, we all know weather certain critiques about our work have basis and that's the time to evaluate and find ways to improve. By perfecting skills over time, listening to sincere advise and being open to new creative ideas, there is no other way but to succeed.

Simon, I love Why not add: "Endless possibilities the fuel of their love affair!"

And so the "dance" is perhaps not unlike that described by Sven Birkerts in The Gutenberg Elegies, regarding the steps taken by the writer, and the reader: The goal of critiques (and I'm distinguishing this from the role of art critic) is to speak to the kinds of balance and form that will make the dance as graceful and seemingly effortless as possible, so that through mastery over (including manipulation of) line and edges and value design and the like, the artist expresses his or her intentions in such a way that the patron or viewer can say, "Yes! You have helped me to see what it is that you saw. Thank you for that."

That would be a useful critique.

Steven, that is a marvellous use of metaphor. I guess there's a hope that even the work of an artistic equivalent of clog dancer like me can one day look graceful and effortless.

Enzie, your marketing story is inspirational.

Simon