This week, I drove to my old house in Pennsylvania to pick up some old art supplies and canvas I had left there when I moved out. My hope had been to assess what was there and potentially use some of it back in my New Jersey studio– art supplies can be expensive, at time, and I am no stranger to using what I have or gesso-ing over an old or failed painting so as not to waste the canvas. When I got there, I found three or four old, painted and half-painted pieces, including a huge 60″x48″ canvas. The date at the bottom of the painting read August, 2005.
And it was terrible. Really terrible.
I loaded them up and drove them to my home in NJ with plans to get each into the studio and painted white immediately. I didn’t want anyone to see them– as far as I was concerned, they didn’t represent my passion, talent, or potential and I didn’t want anyone judging my current work based on this old, awful stuff. Frankly, I was a little embarrassed of them. Continue reading
I have struggled with the idea of an artist’s statement for just about as long as I’ve considered myself an artist. As a painter/illustrator, I was sure my visual pieces were capable of speaking on their own– in fact, I figured that if they didn’t, I had failed at what I consider the primary goal of all art, to communicate. Regardless, I kept coming across all the reasons I needed an artist’s statement, all the reasons I “should” have one, all the situations I would come across as a professional that would require it. And so, I struggled. I like to think that I am pretty handy with the written word, but writing about yourself and your work is an entirely different game altogether. There’s so much pressure there. Ultimately, in the years I have spent as a professional artist, I have never successfully written and artist’s statement, and, frankly, I have never needed one– but I’ve recently learned a few things about this elusive beast, and now I’m going to share them with you. Perhaps you will spend a few less years writing terrible things about yourself than I have.
Among those in the art world– and by “art world” I don’t mean you and I, I mean the galleries, dealers, and agents running this business– there are mixed feelings about artist’s statements and whether they’re necessary at all. It turns out, far less of these people require them than you may think, though some still look for a statement in introduction or even use them in shows. The problem is, most artist’s statements are just plain bad. In theory, they should offer some limited insight into the art itself– who the artist is, the technical process, the artist’s belief system of philosophy, or how the piece fits into a larger body of work, and the like– without stepping all over what the art is able to say for itself. The artist’s statement should be demure and totally okay with playing in the background, while the art remains the focus. The artist’s statement should offer insight and information without being required when it comes to actually viewing the painting (as a side note, if your visual art piece is not accessible to the viewer in some way outside of a lengthy and elaborate statement, perhaps you should consider becoming a writer instead…). And the artist’s statement should add to and compliment the work is accompanies, not distract from it.
Unfortunately, the increase in artist’s statements has come along with an increase in awful. Continue reading
Once you become an artist– in any capacity– I can guarantee you that someone, somewhere is going to ask you to work for free. It might be a doodle, a drawing, a “quick” design, a piece that comes along with “tons of exposure for you,” or a “great addition to your portfolio,” and the person asking for it would like to use it without paying for it. For every artist who gets roped into doing unpaid work at one point or another, there is an online rant about why you shouldn’t be working for free; and for every online rant about why artist’s shouldn’t work for free, there’s a post or snippet about how artists have become “money obsessed” and have forgotten how to make art for the love of making art. And every once in a while, some huge company will have to deal with a bunch of angry creatives for trying to offer the “opportunity” for artists to let them use their work, again, without having to pay for it. It happened to Google in 2009, when the mega-company offered dozens of prominent and up-and-coming artists the chance to contribute their work to their newest web project and be paid in “exposure to millions.”
The artists were unimpressed, and even insulted, by Google’s offer. Thousands rallied, albeit digitally, against the company, who reported profits in the range of 1.5 billion that year and still refused to compensate the artists it was asking to participate. Still, despite the artists who refused the offer on principle, Google still found those who were willing to work for exposure alone. You can read the NY Times article here.
So where does the line exist for we creatives? Should we do work without getting paid for it? I would like to suggest that the answer is yes… and no.
First and foremost, as a creative, you are providing a service to society. You are exploring and answering questions of imagination, boundaries, and culture. You are making a visual record of the time and place in which you live. This service that you are providing– whether you are a painter, and illustrator, a graphic designer, a photographer, etc.– is immensely important. As such, you time, your talent, and your services are valuable. That means they’re worth something, and in this day and age, “something” is most often monetary compensation. At the same time, I am not of the belief that a a lack of active payment, clients, or commissions should stop anyone from creating and producing art. There is something to be said for creating for the sake of creating and for the love of what you do. Only by practicing our craft do we get better, and if you are a creative and you do not create, you open yourself up to experiencing great frustration and dissatisfaction in life. I don’t think that the argument of whether a creative should work for free is really asking- “Should you do work unless it is paid for by someone else;” and to approach it as if there is any suggestion that one should not create for the pure love of their craft or for their own sake is to misinterpret the issue.
Inevitably, though, you will be asked by someone to do something for free. Whether or not you choose to take the job without any compensation is entirely up to you and your own professional guidelines, however, here are some general suggestions I would like to offer as a result of my experience over the years… Continue reading
Saying it’s been a while would be a massive understatement. I’m pretty sure I haven’t legitimately blogged since August. To be fair, I spent September through December finally finishing my last semester of graduate school, and am now the proud owner of a very fancy and very expensive piece of paper.
In all seriousness, my degree is in urban studies and community arts, and I am endlessly proud of myself for actually working through this and finishing, regardless of how long it took me; and I’m endlessly grateful for those people in my life who have supported me and encouraged me throughout the process. I am also pretty grateful that it’s over. Don’t get me wrong – I have always loved school, and I have always been a good student, but I was ready to be done this particular phase of my life.
I spent January and February recovering from the process. I know, that seems totally dramatic, but it felt like I worked nonstop for months and months and kept promising myself a break that never came. When January arrived and I had actually graduated, all the breaks I promised had added up! The last two months have seen me functioning. Not really reaching out and doing anything huge or worthwhile, but maintaining. Keeping the house, keeping my standard clients, doing a few small artistic projects, getting dinner on the table most nights, and not much else. For the first two or three weeks, I felt intensely guilty about this. Intensely guilty about not doing enough, taking advantage of my new skills, doing something that justified having this new degree, and, frankly, not blogging.
Guilt is a funny subject for most creatives– we all seem to feel it much more intensely than others because, many times, our creative productivity (and sometimes our jobs) rely solely on our own internal motivation. Most of the people in our lives don’t eve recognize our art as anything more than a hobby, and if we’re lucky they may classify it as a “side job,” let alone do they realize the work, effort, and constant self-motivation it takes to do something because you love it, and not simply because you get paid for it. No one pushes you to be a creative– it’s something you’re born with, and it often has to begin and end with the resources we have on the inside as individuals. There is no boss pushing and motivating, no company offering incentives and raises, and sometimes, there aren’t even parents and loved one pushing and hoping for your success as a creative. If I had a dollar for every time someone in my family asked, “Are you working yet?” I wouldn’t worry about promoting myself as an artist. Continue reading
Just a quick post tonight – it’s Sunday evening and I was thrilled to spend most of the day locked away in my studio sketching in a brand new sketchbook. As a rule, I don’t usually change sketchbooks in the middle of the year unless the initial one is full (not the case with the moleskine I posted about a while back), but I couldn’t resist a couple of little 5.5″x8″ Strathmore mixed media sketchbooks I stumbled across in Michael’s clearance section the other day (only $3.00 each!) The paper is much heavier than my other sketch books and suitable for all kinds of wet and dry media. Below are a few of today’s finished products! Enjoy and let me know what you think!
There has been a lot going on here in my little home studio!
As you may have seen in my last post, my birthday was at the beginning of the month – I turned 28. Twenty eight marks 16 years since my grandfather taught me to paint with oils. Twelve years since I marched myself down to the guidance office at school and demanded that they replace all of my math and science classes with art and music classes. Ten years since I graduated high school and decided to attend The Art Institute of Philadelphia. Seven years since I graduated with a Bachelor’s in Graphic Design. Four years since I started painting again after having given up on the art after college. And, I decided while reflecting on my 28th birthday over a glass of wine and sushi with a friend, high time I started taking myself as seriously as I wanted others to.
It’s confession time – I have always relied on others to value me and my talents more than I value them myself, because placing real value on the things that I chose to do made me uncomfortable. It made me uncomfortable because if I grabbed on to something – like art – and threw myself into it and failed, I would be devastated; but if other people insisted I should throw myself into it and I kind of did, I couldn’t be blamed if it went terribly awry. I have grappled for years with art not being a serious enough endeavor, but more so with not believing I was good enough to make it one. Continue reading
When I first saw the work of Michael Mapes, I was immediately fascinated. A mix of photography, sculpture, and science fair project – albeit a really, really, beautiful science project, Michael Mapes dissects his already-stunning photos and then reassembles the pieces using specimen pins, plastic bags, vials, magnifying glasses, gelatin capsules, and the like. The results are beautiful, compartmentalized sculptures that appear endlessly complex and function as portraits, collage, and intriguing forays into organization and disorganization.
You can see more of his work at Parlor Gallery.
I have always heard people say, either to myself or any other ‘obviously’ artistic person in the room at the time, “OMG, you are sooo creative. I could never do that!” or, “I wish I could be as creative as you are!” or, even better, “How do you come up with that stuff? It’s amazing how it just comes from no where…”
I’ve learned to recognize these as comments in passing, for the most part. I don’t take the time to explain to them that I believe that we are all creative beings, and that our creativity comes from our spirit – that which makes us human, the “infinite intelligence” that Deepak Chopra writes about. The only variations, I believe, are the level to which each of us has allowed creativity to be cultivated within us, and the form of expression we choose to use. Even those of us who have taken on the title “artist”, “musician”, or the like, have moments that the creativity stream seems to run dry – the ideas seem to disappear, and with them go the motivation and any clue of what to do next.
We’re living in the era of creativity. No longer is it only artists, musicians, and writers who are expected to be creative – everyone is. Businesses and corporations want increasingly creative solutions. Creative ‘giants’ like Google, Behance, and Apple are at the top of the economic ladder. More and more people are employed in a creative capacity, and more and more people have taken their employment into their own hands. So, if creativity is in all of us – even those who make no claims at being an “artist” – and we all need it, how do we get to it? Continue reading
“Jason Thielkeʼs figurative drawings explore the constellation of human experience. Yet this exhibition marks a departure for the artist, away from technical perfection. Previous works involved laser etching and many hours digitally recreating his original, hand-drawn sketches. For Zero-zero, the artist is hand-drawing directly on wooden panel. “
Since stumbling across one of his drawings on Pinterest, I must admit that I’ve been a tad obsessed with the artwork of Jason Thielke. A mixture of female and animal figures, his latest series of drawings are complex; the subject matter are broken up into linear patterns and planes – almost like architectural drawings, while still remaining soft and fluid. They remind me of maps of stars and constellations, and the movement in these two dimensional pieces is undeniable. The color is subtle and takes a backseat to line and form. I think these are strikingly unique and beautiful, and I have the feeling that my obsession isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I also appreciate that, even as an established artist, he is actively exploring new forms of art and expression, still taking “departures”, as it were, and challenging himself to continue to make new and beautiful things.
“Iʼm thinking about the messiness of life and how we are trying to figure things out,” Thielke said. Perhaps itʼs maturity, a level of understanding that comes with being in his mid-thirties, a growing into the full complexities of understanding that life is inherently messy, that is pushing this growth.
