Fade to black…
Recently, I became aware of the plight of a student who created a painting that included a naked woman as a component of the content. It’s important to note that the painting wasn’t finished.
The student met with the professor teaching the class for an in-process critique. The professor objected to the portrayal of a female nude in the painting, stating that the student was objectifying women and strongly suggesting changes in content. The student reported informing the professor that the painting was not finished and also stating that it was not the student’s intention to objectify women. The student also reported that the professor rejected the student’s reasoning and, especially, the student’s stated intentions. Reportedly, the exchange went on for some time, leaving the student feeling defeated before the painting was even finished. As a result, the student painted over the entire painting with black paint. None of the original content of the painting remained visible—it was simply solid black paint. The student reported wanting to leave the painting completely black, or perhaps to sand certain sections to reveal portions of the content hidden beneath; however, none of the nudity would be revealed if this technique were utilized.
Many things come to mind….
First, I think it would be inappropriate for the student to present the now all-black painting at critique. It smacks of bitterness and anger and would be an unwise and disproportionate reaction. Moreover, I think the strategic sanding in order to reveal certain content, but not other, is ridiculous.
Second, no matter what the professor’s reasoning may have been, I believe that it was inappropriate for the professor to judge the student’s intentionalism for anything other than that which the student stated. Given that both parties understood that the painting was not finished, it was inappropriate for the professor to strongly suggest a change in content to prevent the painting from appearing to the professor as though women were being objectified.
At this point I feel the need to interject a disclaimer: I am not a proponent of the objectification of women. However, I am a card-carrying member of the ACLU (yes, I can produce the card), and as such, I support every First Amendment right to freedom of expression. That said, presuming that the student is telling the truth, the student stated that it was NOT the student’s intention to objectify women; rather, to specifically incorporate a naked female form in the execution of the painting’s content, which was unfinished.
Third, every person who comes in contact with this painting—or any other work of art—is entitled to his or her own interpretive embrace. Every person who comes in contact with this painting—or any other work of art—is entitled to his or her own judgment of its success, including judging the success of the student’s own stated intentionalism. However, prescribing, suggesting, or otherwise enforcing a change in content or subject matter is simply wrong, no matter what the teacher’s social critique or the offense that may be taken. If an individual has such a critique—that women are objectified by the production of such imagery—that’s fine. It’s valid criticism. Nevertheless, it can also be wrong. Not all [nude] female imagery is created to objectify women, although some definitely is. Not all [nude] female imagery objectifies women, although some absolutely does. It is, however, the student’s right to make this choice. And we must remember, what we have here is a student who has stated clearly that this was not the student’s intention.
The opportunities missed here are enormous!
1. The professor—despite an obvious personal social agenda—could have let the student finish the painting and then provided relevant critique—including social critique about the objectification of women—i.e., other ways in which the painting might be interpreted. By insisting on the change of content, the professor decimated the opportunity for genuine teaching and learning in this situation.
2. After completion, the professor could have experienced the student’s intentionalism and interpreted the painting in the manner in which the student intended—keeping an open mind. This is not impossible.
3. The success and value of the painting—based upon personal taste—could have been assessed. It may have been a success—it may also have failed—but we will never know.
4. The student could have learned that “the idea” behind the painting—no matter the intentionalism—didn’t work. On the other hand, it might have. Again, we will never know.
Although another student witnessed this incident, I hope to treat this critique as a philosophical example, fully taking into account the fact that the professor has not commented. If the events in this story have been related truthfully, then I believe my critique of the situation is accurate.
Throughout my experience in art education I have come to believe that there is simply nothing that can ruin a developing artist like bad critique. Those who undertake the responsibility to be teachers of art hold the aspirations and talents of their students in trust, and their words of praise or condemnation carry immense weight. This is certainly not to say that students should be treated with kid gloves, showered with empty praise, and insulated from harsh appraisals when these might be appropriate. If a work of art is truly a failure, the instructor should say so.
But, negative criticism is not the same as bad critique. Bad critique attacks the artist rather than the artwork. It imposes someone else’s values on the artist’s work. It destroys the artist’s sense of self, kills creativity, and thwarts ambition. The student in this story was harmed by the professor’s bad critique—frustrated, angry, discouraged, and now contemplating an action that could result in a low grade, possibly jeopardizing the student’s academic future, or capitulating to demands that would undermine the student’s artistic integrity. This is, in my opinion, a vile position for the student to be forced to occupy, but such is the result of bad critique.
Let all who teach or study the arts take heed.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Whose is it?
Whose is it?
The academy… Oh how I struggle with the academy! But I also love, appreciate and love to criticize the academy. The academy keeps me thinking, which is the academy’s greatest gift! Of course, I am a product of the academy. I’m an ardent supporter of higher education and most especially education in the arts. Nevertheless, I hear so many common complaints about the academy, and chief among those complaints: “They want me to make my art their way.” Or similarly: “They force me to make the art they want.”
Ah yes, the “ol’ stamp of approval” is alive, well and prevalent in the academy no matter whether you’re a Freshman or Doctoral student. And I must state at the outset that I don’t disagree with it entirely—only in principle, especially when it’s misapplied.
Speaking specifically of the visual arts, students often complain that professors prescribe or suggest how art should be made, how it is accomplished and even go so far as to require aesthetic and subject matter changes. I once witnessed a professor take a brush out of a student’s hand, paint upon the student’s painting and say, “There, that’s better.” I was horrified! But, I’ve seen this twice. I’ve watched as professors not only suggest aesthetics changes, but also demanded or strongly suggested changes in subject matter and style. And recently I read some comments from a professor who wrote to a student wherein the professor urged the student to completely abandon a specific (successful) style to include vastly different content, which the professor judged more contemporary and informed. The suggestions, in my opinion, were indicative of that professor’s personal style and taste, which—in that professor’s art—includes content that I personally judge as strange, disconnected, ugly and dissonant. Is it “Art”? Of course! But if I’m being honest, that professor’s art is bad, worthless, dumpster art. And a professor’s individual taste should never interfere with a student’s desired practice.
Nevertheless is it wrong for a professor to say these things, to challenge a student or prescribe experimentation? Here’s a hint: yes and no, but I’ll get back to this in a moment.
Now in my opinion the academy—at large—is stuck in the past and also in the predominant rut of challenging students to experiment and thereby inspire growth. It’s a “one size fits all” static, stale and rigid pedagogical concept rampantly misapplied. And for too many professors it’s the only arrow in their quiver—it’s all they know, it’s what they’ve been taught, what’s been passed down to them, their business-as-usual model. I’m belaboring the point on purpose. Why, you might ask? While art itself isn't stuck—thankfully ever evolving, pedagogy and curriculum development in studio art has largely experienced little evolutionary growth or transformation since after World War II.
Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic at New York Magazine, recently wrote, “I get mad at the art world too:… …at tenured academics who can’t turn the page from 1968…” (10/13/2011 at 01:00 AM, Blog / New York Magazine / Work of Art Recap: Jerry Saltz Is Back Recapping His Own Reality Show).
I agree [although I’d venture to say it might be even earlier than 1968]. I’d add to that the current crop of tenure-track academics have carried forth that tradition of not turning the page into their own academic careers or who are themselves narrowed by adherence to static, stale, rigid pedagogical concepts rampantly misapplied. (Yes, it bears repeating).
In certain academies like the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, there is a veritable buffet of classes from which to choose in every visual art discipline. If you take a painting class in, say, impressionism, as a student you shouldn’t be surprised to be expected to paint like an impressionist. However, at academies where class offerings are less profuse, students can—I think—expect to experience the “ol’ stamp of approval—by this way you shall pass—paint what I tell you to paint” dictum.
Okay, I’ll answer the question… At academies that cannot offer the wide range of classes available at more prolific programs like SAIC, is it wrong to ask or direct a student to experiment in their studio practice? No, it’s not wrong. Experimentation can and does inspire growth. I really believe this. However, professors, themselves, must never force a student into performing “only by this way shall you pass—stamp of approval” art in lieu of creating their own art and style. The challenge for the professor is to be knowledgeable enough, skilled enough and flexible enough to steward a student—especially those in their junior and senior years—to grow in their (the student’s) practice, to refine and to improve the practice students will either work in after graduation or use to gain acceptance to graduate school. In my opinion, at such academies, curriculum should be changed, developed and pedagogical practice evolved to promote and direct experimentation only in the freshman and sophomore years (as in those institutions with First-Year Programs), leaving the junior year to coalesce a student’s practice, to see if their ideas are working, to mentor refinements and to prepare the student for the later part of their junior year and the beginning of the senior year—before an undergraduate must consider a career trajectory or graduate school applications—to accomplishing/making cohesive art.
I owe a great deal to my professors and others who once suggested a change or two, especially when writing my dissertation! I’m quite fond of quoting something a professor once told me: “You’re not here for my approval, you’re here to see if your ideas work.” For the most part, I can gladly report that the difference in my experience—with only three painfully notable exceptions—is that almost all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received were constructive, guiding and helpful. Additionally, with the exception of the same three painfully notable exceptions, all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received dealt with my ideas and subject matter. What is/was the difference in my experience versus so many others? My professors! My professors respected my ideas, addressed my style—even my writing, though in my dissertation I naturally had to conform to a more scholarly standard—and they stewarded me on to greater accomplishment and success. But, I’m lucky! I’m in the minority.
When I’m fortunate enough to teach—and I do consider it a privilege each and every time—I try and pay forward the support and professionalism I experienced and received when I was a student. If more of those entrusted with the task of nurturing developing artists would consider their jobs in this light, perhaps academia might be a better place. And, perhaps, it is time for instructors and professors in the academy to be held accountable to the standards of professional development that have long been in place in other departments. It is laughable to think that, say, a professor of medicine or computer science would still be teaching theories prevalent in 1968, yet art department faculty are expected to simply continue producing and exhibiting their own artworks. Ongoing discussions of relevant theory and criticism should also be expected of faculty members in art departments, and their personal art practice should perhaps be evaluated in terms of individual growth and development as well, lest professors produce the same kinds of works decade after decade.
Radical ideas, to be sure. But, as Jerry Saltz’s comment cited earlier illustrates, it is time for the academy to re-evaluate its business model, to advance past 1968, and to join with other academic disciplines in the 21st century university.
The academy… Oh how I struggle with the academy! But I also love, appreciate and love to criticize the academy. The academy keeps me thinking, which is the academy’s greatest gift! Of course, I am a product of the academy. I’m an ardent supporter of higher education and most especially education in the arts. Nevertheless, I hear so many common complaints about the academy, and chief among those complaints: “They want me to make my art their way.” Or similarly: “They force me to make the art they want.”
Ah yes, the “ol’ stamp of approval” is alive, well and prevalent in the academy no matter whether you’re a Freshman or Doctoral student. And I must state at the outset that I don’t disagree with it entirely—only in principle, especially when it’s misapplied.
Speaking specifically of the visual arts, students often complain that professors prescribe or suggest how art should be made, how it is accomplished and even go so far as to require aesthetic and subject matter changes. I once witnessed a professor take a brush out of a student’s hand, paint upon the student’s painting and say, “There, that’s better.” I was horrified! But, I’ve seen this twice. I’ve watched as professors not only suggest aesthetics changes, but also demanded or strongly suggested changes in subject matter and style. And recently I read some comments from a professor who wrote to a student wherein the professor urged the student to completely abandon a specific (successful) style to include vastly different content, which the professor judged more contemporary and informed. The suggestions, in my opinion, were indicative of that professor’s personal style and taste, which—in that professor’s art—includes content that I personally judge as strange, disconnected, ugly and dissonant. Is it “Art”? Of course! But if I’m being honest, that professor’s art is bad, worthless, dumpster art. And a professor’s individual taste should never interfere with a student’s desired practice.
Nevertheless is it wrong for a professor to say these things, to challenge a student or prescribe experimentation? Here’s a hint: yes and no, but I’ll get back to this in a moment.
Now in my opinion the academy—at large—is stuck in the past and also in the predominant rut of challenging students to experiment and thereby inspire growth. It’s a “one size fits all” static, stale and rigid pedagogical concept rampantly misapplied. And for too many professors it’s the only arrow in their quiver—it’s all they know, it’s what they’ve been taught, what’s been passed down to them, their business-as-usual model. I’m belaboring the point on purpose. Why, you might ask? While art itself isn't stuck—thankfully ever evolving, pedagogy and curriculum development in studio art has largely experienced little evolutionary growth or transformation since after World War II.
Jerry Saltz, Senior Art Critic at New York Magazine, recently wrote, “I get mad at the art world too:… …at tenured academics who can’t turn the page from 1968…” (10/13/2011 at 01:00 AM, Blog / New York Magazine / Work of Art Recap: Jerry Saltz Is Back Recapping His Own Reality Show).
I agree [although I’d venture to say it might be even earlier than 1968]. I’d add to that the current crop of tenure-track academics have carried forth that tradition of not turning the page into their own academic careers or who are themselves narrowed by adherence to static, stale, rigid pedagogical concepts rampantly misapplied. (Yes, it bears repeating).
In certain academies like the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, there is a veritable buffet of classes from which to choose in every visual art discipline. If you take a painting class in, say, impressionism, as a student you shouldn’t be surprised to be expected to paint like an impressionist. However, at academies where class offerings are less profuse, students can—I think—expect to experience the “ol’ stamp of approval—by this way you shall pass—paint what I tell you to paint” dictum.
Okay, I’ll answer the question… At academies that cannot offer the wide range of classes available at more prolific programs like SAIC, is it wrong to ask or direct a student to experiment in their studio practice? No, it’s not wrong. Experimentation can and does inspire growth. I really believe this. However, professors, themselves, must never force a student into performing “only by this way shall you pass—stamp of approval” art in lieu of creating their own art and style. The challenge for the professor is to be knowledgeable enough, skilled enough and flexible enough to steward a student—especially those in their junior and senior years—to grow in their (the student’s) practice, to refine and to improve the practice students will either work in after graduation or use to gain acceptance to graduate school. In my opinion, at such academies, curriculum should be changed, developed and pedagogical practice evolved to promote and direct experimentation only in the freshman and sophomore years (as in those institutions with First-Year Programs), leaving the junior year to coalesce a student’s practice, to see if their ideas are working, to mentor refinements and to prepare the student for the later part of their junior year and the beginning of the senior year—before an undergraduate must consider a career trajectory or graduate school applications—to accomplishing/making cohesive art.
I owe a great deal to my professors and others who once suggested a change or two, especially when writing my dissertation! I’m quite fond of quoting something a professor once told me: “You’re not here for my approval, you’re here to see if your ideas work.” For the most part, I can gladly report that the difference in my experience—with only three painfully notable exceptions—is that almost all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received were constructive, guiding and helpful. Additionally, with the exception of the same three painfully notable exceptions, all of the suggestions and criticism I’ve received dealt with my ideas and subject matter. What is/was the difference in my experience versus so many others? My professors! My professors respected my ideas, addressed my style—even my writing, though in my dissertation I naturally had to conform to a more scholarly standard—and they stewarded me on to greater accomplishment and success. But, I’m lucky! I’m in the minority.
When I’m fortunate enough to teach—and I do consider it a privilege each and every time—I try and pay forward the support and professionalism I experienced and received when I was a student. If more of those entrusted with the task of nurturing developing artists would consider their jobs in this light, perhaps academia might be a better place. And, perhaps, it is time for instructors and professors in the academy to be held accountable to the standards of professional development that have long been in place in other departments. It is laughable to think that, say, a professor of medicine or computer science would still be teaching theories prevalent in 1968, yet art department faculty are expected to simply continue producing and exhibiting their own artworks. Ongoing discussions of relevant theory and criticism should also be expected of faculty members in art departments, and their personal art practice should perhaps be evaluated in terms of individual growth and development as well, lest professors produce the same kinds of works decade after decade.
Radical ideas, to be sure. But, as Jerry Saltz’s comment cited earlier illustrates, it is time for the academy to re-evaluate its business model, to advance past 1968, and to join with other academic disciplines in the 21st century university.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Work of Art – Season 2 / Episode
Work of Art – Season 2 / Episode 1
What a difference a day makes—not to mention an entire year!
Work of Art is back and, if I’m being honest, I’m not disappointed. Actually, I’m rather pleased and optimistic…mostly…although it’s still early.
The Challenge…
Good God, I hated the idea of that challenge. Kitsch? Really? Kitsch? Kitsch is horrible enough all by itself, and then the contestants had to use it as source material? Who comes up with these challenges, anyway? It failed miserably, but maybe that’s just because it was Kitsch. (Have I said I dislike Kitsch? I do!) I thought the challenge was to make “gallery-worthy” art out of kitsch, not kitschy-crap out kitsch. Thankfully there was one successful exception, in my opinion. But for that one exception, however, I thought the rest of it looked really awful. Crap. Just crap. And, save that one exception, the judges chose the best of the worst and a worst of the worst. Truthfully, in this challenge all but one contestant deserved to be sent home. But what fun would that be, right?
The Judges…
Did Bravo send the judges to art school? Did they have a criticism coach this season? Whatever happened, they were MUCH IMPROVED!!! Even the sound bite quips weren’t annoying. Most improved? (…Oh, my eyes are rolling, rolling, rolling as I write this)…China Chow! Eh, for the most part…thus far. Her comment at the crit in conjunction with Ugo’s piece as he removed the background was off-base—it was still crap—bad art—no matter the background. I made a point of watching the extended clips of the judges’ comments. Last season I have to think that really bad editing coupled with really bad cliché sound bite quips and regurgitated slogans made for even worse televised criticism. But, given the first episode of Season 2, maybe the first season’s criticism blunders were akin to labor pains. Now birthed, it’s going much better? Well, one can hope. One last thing… Jerry, well done!
The Artists…
Sarah, as I’ve said, save one example, I disliked every other piece of art made. Yours was the only piece I thought worthy. To me it did appear a bit more like an odd children’s book illustration, but it certainly was done well. Yes, good skill, craft, execution, balance and harmony. Well done!
Ugo, your piece was “art,” but—at least on TV—it left me feeling absolutely nothing—no aesthetic experience, no desire, nothing. Ugo, of all the contestants who deserved to go home, you deserved it the most. So, I guess the judges got that one right.
The Sucklord, I didn’t dislike your piece more than certain others, so I wouldn’t have put you in the bottom three. Nevertheless, your piece looked like a cheap, smarmy, suck-ey version of a KB Toys display with no edge to it at all. And this from a guy who’s all about edge? It was boring. What happened? Never mind. I don’t really want to know.
As for the rest of you, collectively, none of your efforts even registered as a blip on the aesthetic radar screen, so there’s nothing worth writing about or mentioning. Hopefully, the next challenge will have been a better task from which to judge your talent and skill.
Wrapping up…
I’m really excited by the first episode, despite the awful, worthless, crappy art made by everyone but Sarah. It’s fantastic the series is back. The judges nailed the critique! China’s outfits weren’t ridiculous, her criticism was—with one minor exception—spot on (← Geez, did I say that?), as was Jerry Saltz. Simon and Bill, well they always did anchor the show’s professionalism, which was a welcome, familiar and reassuring component.
Can’t wait for Episode 2!
Best, Bruce Mackh, Ph.D. (aka L’Art)
What a difference a day makes—not to mention an entire year!
Work of Art is back and, if I’m being honest, I’m not disappointed. Actually, I’m rather pleased and optimistic…mostly…although it’s still early.
The Challenge…
Good God, I hated the idea of that challenge. Kitsch? Really? Kitsch? Kitsch is horrible enough all by itself, and then the contestants had to use it as source material? Who comes up with these challenges, anyway? It failed miserably, but maybe that’s just because it was Kitsch. (Have I said I dislike Kitsch? I do!) I thought the challenge was to make “gallery-worthy” art out of kitsch, not kitschy-crap out kitsch. Thankfully there was one successful exception, in my opinion. But for that one exception, however, I thought the rest of it looked really awful. Crap. Just crap. And, save that one exception, the judges chose the best of the worst and a worst of the worst. Truthfully, in this challenge all but one contestant deserved to be sent home. But what fun would that be, right?
The Judges…
Did Bravo send the judges to art school? Did they have a criticism coach this season? Whatever happened, they were MUCH IMPROVED!!! Even the sound bite quips weren’t annoying. Most improved? (…Oh, my eyes are rolling, rolling, rolling as I write this)…China Chow! Eh, for the most part…thus far. Her comment at the crit in conjunction with Ugo’s piece as he removed the background was off-base—it was still crap—bad art—no matter the background. I made a point of watching the extended clips of the judges’ comments. Last season I have to think that really bad editing coupled with really bad cliché sound bite quips and regurgitated slogans made for even worse televised criticism. But, given the first episode of Season 2, maybe the first season’s criticism blunders were akin to labor pains. Now birthed, it’s going much better? Well, one can hope. One last thing… Jerry, well done!
The Artists…
Sarah, as I’ve said, save one example, I disliked every other piece of art made. Yours was the only piece I thought worthy. To me it did appear a bit more like an odd children’s book illustration, but it certainly was done well. Yes, good skill, craft, execution, balance and harmony. Well done!
Ugo, your piece was “art,” but—at least on TV—it left me feeling absolutely nothing—no aesthetic experience, no desire, nothing. Ugo, of all the contestants who deserved to go home, you deserved it the most. So, I guess the judges got that one right.
The Sucklord, I didn’t dislike your piece more than certain others, so I wouldn’t have put you in the bottom three. Nevertheless, your piece looked like a cheap, smarmy, suck-ey version of a KB Toys display with no edge to it at all. And this from a guy who’s all about edge? It was boring. What happened? Never mind. I don’t really want to know.
As for the rest of you, collectively, none of your efforts even registered as a blip on the aesthetic radar screen, so there’s nothing worth writing about or mentioning. Hopefully, the next challenge will have been a better task from which to judge your talent and skill.
Wrapping up…
I’m really excited by the first episode, despite the awful, worthless, crappy art made by everyone but Sarah. It’s fantastic the series is back. The judges nailed the critique! China’s outfits weren’t ridiculous, her criticism was—with one minor exception—spot on (← Geez, did I say that?), as was Jerry Saltz. Simon and Bill, well they always did anchor the show’s professionalism, which was a welcome, familiar and reassuring component.
Can’t wait for Episode 2!
Best, Bruce Mackh, Ph.D. (aka L’Art)
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