One of the more valuable (to me) artworks in my studio is a linoleum print made by Dan Cautrell, a artist I admire a lot and know just a bit. The print reads
Statement of Purpose
I do the work because I want to.
I do the work because I like to.
I do the work because I know how.
I do the work to explore myself.
I do the work to engage others with thought, word, and deed.
I do the work because I have something to say.
I do the work because I have seen something beautiful.
I do the work because I have seen something ugly.
I do the work to be the kind of person I want to be.
I do the work to earn money.
I do the work to stay when I must go.=cautrell
The print hangs right by the studio door, so I can see it and be reminded by it every time I enter or leave the studio. One of the reasons this is a favorite of mine is that it so neatly captures how our reasons for making art can be different at different times. You don’t always have to be working on something for the same reason. I’ll bet I’ve done work for every single one of the reasons Dan has listed; lots of times, I’ve done work for several of these all at once.
I know that, for me, the act of writing things down seems to make them more real. I’ve often wondered what effect making these prints (mine is numbered 73 of 200) has had on Dan. It’s an interesting reminder that making art has concrete effects in both the lives of the art-makers and lives of the people who end up living with the art day to day.
Paul,
I am not sure if I remember exactly how you said it, but I know you mentioned how often the best posts in terms of interesting reading are the ones that are not necessarily easy to comment on, while the ones that seem to generate a lot of comments are the more contentious ones.
I know I’m translating your words into my thoughts, but this is one of those posts that makes for interesting reading, yet is difficult to comment on because it is so very agreeable.
In reading the Cautrell quotes, I wondered, “Is there anything there that shouldn’t be there?”
No.
“Is there anything missing?”
Maybe, if one considers joy, as in joy of creation as motivation enough. But that theme runs through.
So what to say but “Thanks?”
That photograph reminds me of SO many scenes from the Central California Valley though. It brings back a lot of memories of the quiet cold season beauty of the farm country. It’s not an obvious, garish beauty. You have to get to know it, but when you see it, it gets in your blood.
Maybe I’m just more argumentative than Rex, but for me there is one thing missing and one I’d omit. Though I think the list is probably meant to be taken as a whole, I find that any single one of the reasons could suffice except for #3. That’s an important ingredient, but simply knowing how to do something doesn’t seem enough motivation to do it. And the one I would add to replace it is “to explore the world.” That relates strongly to exploring oneself, but I think there’s a difference in attitude. And exploring is different from depicting something you’ve already decided is beautiful or ugly. Like Mondrian in the quote that’s also a favorite of Paul’s, “I’m trying to find things out.”
Steve, I see # 3: “I do the work because I know how” could be akin to sort of showing off one’s technical skill. I think artists do that sometimes. The “show off” side of ourselves. And there is “it is the only thing I know how to do” side of that one. Sometimes I feel that way.
I have a couple more (some more serious than others):
I do the work to piss off my parents.
I do the work to impress a girl/boy (your pick).
I do the work because it is imperative.
I do the work, because I love surprises.
I do the work because I want to feel alive.
Paul,
Thank you.
An interesting way to approach this list, of course, is to keep adding to it. I don’t read it as all-inclusive, but as a great way to start thinking about the many reasons artists do what they do.
Another way to approach the list is not only as a bunch of separate reasons, but, as Paul suggests, in possible combinations. For instance “I do the work because I want to explore myself and earn money”. Or, adding one of Leslie’s, “I do the work to piss off my parents, and I know how”.
I also relate to another of hers, “I do the work to impress a girl/boy”. If not for the fact that I wasn’t on the high school football team (and couldn’t think of any other way to meet girls), I probably would never have picked up the guitar. Of course at a certain point it took on a life of its own. I remember a girlfriend in college complaining that I was more interested in music than I was in her. Hopefully by now I’ve found a good balance :)
Though I think the list is probably meant to be taken as a whole, I find that any single one of the reasons could suffice except for #3. That’s an important ingredient, but simply knowing how to do something doesn’t seem enough motivation to do it.
This is an interesting point, Steve. My take on it is a bit different from yours, and this reason is one of the most important for me, so I’ll try to explain my view a bit.
One of the problems I have is ‘stopping’. Rather than go on at length here, I’ll just ask that you go read http://photo-musings.blogspot.com/2006/10/on-not-stopping.html
It’s not very directed to say “Well, crud. I don’t know what I’m doing (or how to do what I want). I’ll just do the stuff I know how to do and TRUST that eventually doing that will help me figure it out.” It seems like there OUGHT to be a better way, but for the life of me, in 47 years I haven’t yet figured it out.
I’m constantly fascinated by this idea that you can start out on something and not know how to do it, not know even what ‘it’ really is, but just start out anyway, and prevail in the end. That what look like insurmountable obstacles and impenetrable problems will yield to a simple act of faith never ceases to amaze me.
I thought that might be your interpretation of #3, but decided not to get into it too deeply. I think the key ingredient you add in your comment is about the faith, so that you are really saying “I do the work because I know how and I have faith that later I will enjoy the result or have discovered something about myself or will have something to engage others, etc.” A similar thing comes into other reasons, like my “exploring the world.” It’s not just that it’s fun in itself (though it usually is), but that I have faith that other good things will happen as a result of the exploration.
The following quote from John Cage is also about having that faith:
“If something is boring after two minutes, try it for four. If still boring, then eight. Then sixteen. Then thirty-two. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all.”
Steve,
Or it could just be boring……
I like doing things on the edge of what I know. A mixture of the known and the unknown. Get stuck into the act of doing the known stuff and throw in the odd experiment.
But boring stuff (like, for example, almost anything involving Photoshop) hits my tolerance threshold quickly. If I’m bored, I’m not in the flow. And if I’m not in the flow, then I’m unlikely to get any enjoyment, or any art, out of the occasion.
But boring stuff (like, for example, almost anything involving Photoshop)…
That pretty much sums up the difference between photographers and painters.
As a painter, I use photography to document my work and to shoot reference. I bring the images into P’shop to crop, sharpen and color-correct them. For me the photography and the Photoshop work involved are equally boring.
But when I use Photoshop as a creative tool, it’s just as satisfying in many ways as painting or cutting linoleum. There’s always an issue about the output, of course, as far as a printed image having the same presence as a painting (it’s different for photographers). But as a creative tool, Photoshop is a pleasure to use. I can spend hours working in it and never get bored.
I’m like David’s second case: when I’m processing an image, it’s an extension of the creative process, and I love seeing how different ways of handling an image give different effects. I may have a general idea going in, but I continue to explore what I want from the image. (I don’t use Photoshop, by the way, but a far cheaper program called Picture Window Pro.)
Colin,
I didn’t say I believed in or live by the Cage quote. I find it interesting, and sometimes it works. I take it to mean everything is potentially interesting. I bet I could make interesting art out of the period at the end of this sentence, given time. Alas, life is short. Feeling bored is telling us how not to spend our time.
It does seem “I do the work because I know how,” could go several ways, as many have observed. Like Paul, I like to keep my momentum. By doing the usual thing, I know that I can continue to do good, solid work.
I know that the very, very best stuff tends to just happen. But it happens more frequently when I just keep working.
Like Leslie, I think there is just showing off technical skill.
I’d like to take up wood carving, but I know I’m gonna have to go through that awkward beginner stage, so I’m not doing it because I don’t know how.
Unlike Steve, I don’t think #3 could get taken off the list because sometimes, that’s all there is.
And like David (and Paul) say, it’s usually or might be a combination.
Or as Colin suggests, if it’s boring, it really doesn’t matter if you know how. I’m that way with portraits now. I walked away from a real good living and a lot of community esteem because #1 is the ring that rules them all.
But, there IS one missing!
I do the work to get sex.
Hah!
Steve
Alas, life is short. Feeling bored is telling us how not to spend our time.
That’s pretty much the way I tell it too. It is sometimes worth working through something boring to open up new possibilities, but spotting those occasions is a real, um, art.
And, David and Steve,
Photoshop is a wonderfully flexible tool that can be used for creative purposes. I love the outcomes, I just hate the process. There is even a Photoshop tip on my blog today (a first…).
I use a patchwork of other programs instead of PS mostly. Usually something more immediately visual in the way it works.
Though I understand your point David. In fact, PS feels more like it is made for somebody creating from the ground up than somebody replacing a darkroom.
PS feels more like it is made for somebody creating from the ground up than somebody replacing a darkroom.
Colin, that’s mostly what I do, except for the mundane tasks mentioned above. I use it all day at my job too (along w/ other software), doing visual effects for films. We often start w/ photo sources (not always), but those are just starting points to paint from.
What software do you use for darkroom replacement?
What a gorgeous image!
Paul,
Could you say a bit about this wonderful landscape photograph, or point to a place where you discuss it further?
Fair enough… good words!
Could you say a bit about this wonderful landscape photograph, or point to a place where you discuss it further?
Um, sure.
I was down in the valley below my home; it was a cold morning and the tendency on mornings like that is that the cold air is trapped in the valley by the hills to the east and west, and the result is often a thick, wet fog like this. A light breeze was causing variations in the density of the fog, and the sun was alternately completely obscured and partly revealed. At the same time, the fog near the ground was more or less uniform density and caused the usual fog/contrast effects you see in the trees.
The goal at exposure time was to arrange those elements, along with the graphic elements of the shallow rise in the foreground and the paved pathway with puddles, into some cohesive composition. I would have liked to have the road start left of center of the lower edge of the frame, but there was no way to get that composition and preserve the relation of the sun to the trees; in the end, the sun position was more important. There were several compositions possible from a viewpoint to the right with the sun to the right of the tallest tree but there were balance problems and the shift in the position of the shallow rise also caused problems. As always, compromises were made. Bear in mind that the sun actually moves; I recall waiting a bit after making the big compositional decisions so that the sun would fall where it does in this frame.
The camera was a 4×5 view camera; I used rear tilt to emphasize the convergence of the edges of the path, since I couldn’t get the angular path I really wanted I was concerned about getting a sense of depth. Since the sun was varying in brightness due to changing fog densities, I made a series of exposures and picked the one that had the best separation of the sun’s disk from the background.
The 4×5 negative was scanned and the version of the photo you see was constructed in Photoshop. My recollection is that what you’re looking at is the result of about 3 days of making head sized dents in the walls, trying to a) get the sun to separate convincingly from the foggy sky, b) get the density of the sky to ‘read’ as fog, c) getting the contrast to fade the right way as a depth cue, d) adjusting the foreground shading to depth cue properly.
Most of the head banging was trying to get the sun to read as ‘bright’ without being forced to depress the sky values around it. A certain amount of jiggery-pokery was done with reversing the tonal gradient near the sun to get it to ‘pop’ a bit. This is less successful in this small version but much more persuasive in the much larger (e.g. 16″x20″) final print. There’s some minor fussing with the paved path to get it to separate from the wet grass and to make the puddle stand out a bit.
This was one of the first images I printed on a matte surface paper and the result was that it was a bit more of ‘yet another god-damn learning experience’ than might otherwise be the case, because I was learning to adjust to the new medium at the same time I was building the interpretation you see.
Paul,
Is it for sale? How much does it cost? Are there size options? Something in the price range an artist could afford?
Karl-
Sure it’s for sale. Prices are on my website at http://www.butzi.net/sales.htm.
Prices vary by size, from a 5″x6″ print for $40 to $2500 for a 40″x50″ print.
Okay, I’m heading on over to buy. See you there.
P.S. The link above doesn’t work now, but this one does: http://www.butzi.net/sales.htm
Hi Paul,
Wonderful image! You may be interested in knowing what the science behind your photo is about. The fog you see is actually radiation being scattered by water molecules in the air. The most amount of scattering will happen in the sun’s direct path. That is why the sun didn’t pop out in your image. Scattering makes it hazy. In my field, it is called path radiance. This can be removed from your image by something called Dark Object Subtraction. Essentially, you take the lowest DN value in your image (or in this case part of it) and you make that value equal to 0. What that does is stretch out the values of light in your image and give it more contrast. You can do it in Photoshop using a histogram. Great work, thanks for sharing it.