It’s that hair-pulling but hopefully insightful time when I have to write an Artist’s Statement. I’ve done this before for particular projects or shows, but this is the first time I’ve tried to write a general statement about myself as an artist. The purpose is to provide information to interested visitors at the gallery I’ve recently joined. So my audience is the general public, or at least that part which would visit an art gallery. I feel that’s quite a different audience from other artists (like you all), in turn different from a narrower group, such as photographers working in black and white.
I take the statement very seriously as a way not only to communicate, but for me to consider what is really important, perhaps defining, about my artistic endeavor. The tone of it is critical. I don’t want to be too “artsy” or intellectual, nor do I want to condescend. I want it to be straightforward, but at the same time I want it to entice and suggest rather than answer all questions. It needs to have a personal voice, to sound like something I would say, and ideally not like something anyone else would say. This is what I’ve got so far:
The world is full of mystery and light, and photography is a way for me to explore all three. Most of my work involves ongoing discovery of a place–perhaps a woods, a mesa, or an abandoned building–through repeated encounters over time. Thus my photographs are in series that may span months or years–or as little as an afternoon. These studies of place and person are both windows and mirrors, and are well suited to the combination of realism and expression offered by black and white photography.
So what do you think? At the moment, it’s not quite long enough, though I don’t want it a great deal longer (at most twice as long). I’m concerned the first sentence is cutesy, though I do want to give make the reader think. Are there words or phrases you like or don’t like? Will “windows and mirrors” be opaque or intriguing to my audience? Should I say more about what expression in black and white photography might be? What have I left out that you’d like to see?
I look forward to comments, questions, or suggestions of all kinds. I’m especially interested in reactions to this particular statement, but ideas about such statements in general are very welcome.
UPDATE: Here’s a revision, only a little different from the version above:
The world is full of mystery and light, and photography is a way for me to explore all three. Most of my work involves ongoing discovery of a place–a patch of woods, a desert mesa, an abandoned building–through repeated encounters over time. My photographs are thus in series that sometimes span months or years as I come to understand more deeply a subject and my own response, my way of seeing it. I find the combination of realism and expression offered by black and white photography to be well suited to making images that can be at once windows on a world and reflections of the viewer of that world.
UPDATE 2: Here’s a new revision, I hope more personal. Still needs work.
What leads me to make photographs is most often the discovery of a place where I sense a mystery that I need to explore. It might be an abandoned hotel with lingering traces of memories, a desert mesa concealing remnants of previous inhabitants, or a patch of woods with an elusive feeling of wholeness and clarity. I tend to visit such sites repeatedly to immerse myself in the environment and deepen my understanding of it over time. To convey the actuality both of place and of personal experience, I harness not only the realism of black and white photography, but also its expressive power, its ability to influence perception and emotion via lighting and tonality. I define a successful photograph as one in which you not only see what I saw and grasp what I felt, but beyond that develop your own relationship with the place in question, based on your own intuitions and recollections.
UPDATE 3: Thanks for the comments! Here’s the latest, responding particularly to David’s challenge to do a better job explaining why black and white. The last two sentences are still longish, but I hope they flow better than before. True or false?
What leads me to make photographs is often discovery of a place where I sense the presence of a secret. It might be an abandoned hotel with lingering traces of memories, a desert mesa concealing remnants of earlier inhabitants, or a patch of woods with an elusive feeling of wholeness and clarity. I tend to visit such places repeatedly to immerse myself in the environment and explore it over time. I usually present photographs in black and white, which combines a strong sense of realism with an air of mystery and timelessness, while allowing adjustment of light and shadow to convey personal impressions and overall mood. As viewer of my photograph, I want you not only to grasp what I saw and felt, but also to develop your own relationship with the subject, based on your own perceptions, intuitions, and recollections.
FINAL UPDATE: For completeness, here’s the version I finally gave to the gallery. It’s about the length it needs to be for the back of a postcard to be handed out. But I’m working on a page-long statement that will provide more information to gallery staff so that they’ll be in a position to speak more knowledgeably about me and my work with anyone interested. Thanks again for your reactions and recommendations.
Making photographs is the way I explore a subject and what it means. Certain places draw me: an abandoned dwelling with traces of memories, a patch of woods with an elusive clarity. Immersing myself in the environment, returning often, I learn to see with fresh eyes. I work in black and white to create images whose realism is tempered by abstraction and mystery. My photographs allude as well as describe, inviting the viewer’s own associations, intuitions, and recollections.
Steve:
A few quick observations. This is not a critique but I notice that your statement employs a number of coupled nouns: mystery and light,windows and mirrors, etc. Just popped out at me.
You mention “ongoing discovery” as an m.o. and you seem to frame it in months and years. In that context the mention of “as little as an afternoon” might come across as jarring to some. A related item: the context of your work is described as “woods, mesas, or an abandoned building..” but then you introduce “place and person” later on. Will the gallery goer be rewarded with images of people in your work?
Hope these comments are of some value. I must say that I, for one, appreciate the rather explicit value that you place on the opinions of your fellows.
Steve,
I can tell you this definitively: I have no idea how to write an Artist’s Statement.
Since I’ve pretty much always run my own shows, and since the general public, per my observation, pretty much ignores them, I’ve never bothered, though I have printed quotes from reviews.
I think if I were to go about it, I’d just write down the things I say when I’m talking about my work with people looking to buy.
When I read Artist’s Statements, I usually get the eerie impression that the artist has written something for some mysterious Statement Police — rather like the person who years out of college still writes for his or her English professor.
There was here, a while back, a marvelous conversation on the topic. Unfortunately Paul and Colin no longer care to participate, but I thought that between the two of them, the Artist’s Statement was defined.
I’ll see if I can find that thread.
I like the statement in its concise fashion.
Probably, everybody will have a different opinions – too many cooks spoil the porridge.
I assume that with ‘place and person’ you meant yourself with ‘person’ – speaking of mirrors, you reflect yourself in the photo.
I like the ‘jarring’ effect of “as little as an afternoon” .
I like the ‘coupled nouns’.
I stumbled over ‘all three’ in the first sentence. Mystery and light are part of the world, why do you say three?
The only thing that I did not like was the word ‘perhaps’. Somehow it sound cutsey to me. Can’t you just leave it tangling?
Found it. Artist’s Statements.
There are a lot of tips there. Leslie has some great things to say on the topic. Hopefully she’ll jump in here.
Unfortunately, I pretty much hijacked that thread by arguing with Colin over something else. Sorry.
Jay,
Thanks for your comments, those are helpful. The place and person is meant to be what Birgit thought, the place in front of the camera and the person (me) behind. Discovery of a place is as much about the discoverer as the place. But I think this is not very clear in the present form of the statement, and I need to work on that.
Rex,
Thanks for the link, I’ll re-read that conversation with my current need in mind. I know what you mean about written for the Statement Police, and I don’t want mine to sound that way. That’s often how the first draft comes out, but I plan to go through several revisions before releasing this. It will not be up on the wall like at a typical show. Rather, I imagine that someone who asks about one of my photographs and wants to know a little more about me could be given a card with this on it (and, of course, a photo).
Birgit,
I appreciate your reactions, and I’m not worried about too many cooks. We’re not writing this by committee, I’m just looking for feedback like yours that will help me gauge my writing. And perhaps you’re right about perhaps.
The “all three” is to suggest that I’m not interested in mystery and light just for their own sake, but for the way light guides us in exploring those curious mysteries in the world around us — I am trying to understand the world and my relation to it, and photographs are a way of doing visually what writers do with writing.
Steve,
I’ve been thinking about this. One of the problems with Artist’s Statements is that we really can’t say the same things about our work that others might.
Example: If I were to write about your work, say, to do promo, there’d be two aspects I’d concentrate on.
One, you have your technique down. I see none of the fooling around that someone who is learning photography does. You approach each subject with the appropriate tools and techniques, and you seem to do so with instant intuition. This is the manner of the highly skilled.
Two, as a result of the former, you look outward upon the world, not inward upon your tools. Because you are not fussing with settings, you are alert to the exact moments when the light reveals the best scene to be had. The image you show on this post shows that — there were a perhaps three seconds where the light lit up the grass in the foreground, and you were ready.
If I were to add something else, I’d add something about your range. In showing others the photos I bought from you, I get that. “This guy really sees a lot of stuff, and he sees it well.”
Rex,
You’re absolutely right about the difference between writing about yourself and writing about someone else. I hate those statements you see that are written in third person, but you know it was written by the artist; they automatically sound pompous. I want mine to feel like a personal contact with me.
As for your point about range, I wanted to hint at that with the subject list including a region, as restricted landscape, and a building interior. Still, that doesn’t cover everything, but I think that’s OK.
interested in mystery and light just for their own sake, but for the way light guides us in exploring those curious mysteries in the world around us — I am trying to understand the world and my relation to it, and photographs are a way of doing visually what writers do with writing.
this is excellent Steve. I know what you mean about writing about ourselves and our work…ever so much easier to write about others
I don’t think your first sentence is too cutsy. I agree about coupled nouns popping out and yet that is part of trying to describe your range.
Steve,
Are we any closer?
D.,
I think I am, but I can’t speak for the rest of we. As for the statement itself, it’s slowly taking shape; I just posted a revision.
If you’re looking through a window, the reflection is only a small contribution to what you see. You have to look at quite a few before those contributions add up to a discernable result. Pictorial physics.
The artist’s statement is a total debbie downer for any artist to write. I spent countless days in art school sitting around reading my classmates’ umpteenth draft of their two sentence statements or ten page manifestos–absolutely awful. But the greatest thing was that they were all different.
Rex is exactly right—“we really can’t say the same things about our work that others might”.
The most important and obviously the most difficult thing is to be yourself. At Carnegie Mellon, I had a sophomore and senior year review at the end of those years. We had to provide a packet of all the necessary/default/professional artist stuff, like a CV and Statement. For my first statement, I structured my paragraphs like a billion other statements out there—media choice, inspirations, commentaries, influences, etc. Two years later, I wrote a statement that was completely different. It was very narrative and similar to my current statement today (two years since graduating). My work happens to be very narrative and so my storytelling (for now) seems like a perfect blend of my imagery into written prose.
The best advice for the Statement, aside from being your absolute most bestest realest self, is to really remember that it is a supplement to your artwork. People who don’t like Statements must have a lot of trust that a viewer will simply understand everything. The statement won’t answer every question a viewer has, but it will give them the necessary ‘vocabulary’ to ‘reading’ your work. I like to think that every artist speaks his/her own language. It’s important that the artist give the world something to decipher his/her work so that everyone can (at least) try to understand the artist’s original intentions.
Steve.
I am not trying to be snide; but I guess in a snide way I was asking does the statement move me-you-us any closer to understanding how you want me-you-us to view and think about your work. My comment was meant to suggest that I do not feel closer to entering your realm.
It is, for me, too general.
jeff,
I strongly agree with your idea that the statement should “give them the necessary ‘vocabulary’ to ‘reading’ your work.” I’ve tried to do that, in a simple way, by indicating that viewers should look for elements of mystery and/or light in these images, and that I consider them to be “about” places and my personal insights about being in those places. Hopefully they can go back to the images with these things in mind and get something more out of exploring them.
I guess I like writing more than most, but in any case I find the exercise of working on this statement very useful. I have loosely classified myself as a landscape photographer, which didn’t seem to fit so well with my ghost town interiors. Now I understand those also as being about place, and my interest in light and mystery is common to all of it.
D.,
I didn’t take your remark as snide at all, and I hope you didn’t take my reply as merely flippant. I did understand what you were asking. Your comment about being too general is very useful, though to some extent I’ve actually been striving for that in an attempt to encompass most of my work. Other statements I have written for various projects are much more specific, though they still might not satisfy you. I think we see the world and art quite differently, which is why I especially value your comments. I will definitely consider ways of making it more specific and personal while keeping it short.
Steve, when I read an Artist’s Statement I do so to (hopefully) find out more about the artist, not about the art. The art I can generally figure out for myself. I’m more interested in knowing about the artist’s process, life, other interests.
Do you have an unusual job (like in Artificial Intelligence)? Where did you grow up? Where do you live? Are the places you photograph nearby, or do you travel to them? Do you shoot alone, or do you bring your family or a friend with you? Has your approach changed since you started? Is there something in your past that in some way influenced your choice of subject matter? If so, is there a good anecdote about a particular experience? Tell me stories. Those are what I’ll remember later.
Sorry I’ve been absent from A&P lately. Been working a lot of hours making zombie vampires in the computer for yet another Hollywood movie.
David,
can you show us an example of your zombie vampires or are they classified?
Steve,
Remnants? And, are you familiar with Robert Smithson? I always admired his position with regards to his work and thinking.
And, I like short too.
Steve,
I’ve written a million of these things (well, at least a hundred) and they never say everything that should/ought/could be said, they go out of date faster than mosquitoes in May (and are just as pesky), and of those who actually read them, a good 1/2 will have serious critiques about what you’ve said. My daughter always complains bitterly about the artist’s statement; I don’t let her read mine.
Therefore, and with the above in mind, I will pronounce yours just fine. Not brilliant (but you don’t want to show up your photography with your writing, after all). It gives the reader some indication of what you were looking for and at and adds a bit of “philosophy” at the end.
If you need it to be longer, three sentences about yourself (you can do this in the third person) would fill out the page.
My rule about artist’s statements is that they should take no longer to write than it takes to bind the textile or mat the image.
So you are good to go!
David, can you show us an example of your zombie vampires or are they classified?
Classified, I’m afraid. The film is called I Am Legend, and stars Will Smith. Based on the same book as the movie Omega Man was. I think it comes out around Christmas.
But you can go see Spiderman 3. I painted a bunch of NYC buildings for that one, as well as an orange dumptruck, an American flag, and all kinds of other things you won’t notice. Or rent the first Harry Potter movie. I did the 3-headed dog and the centaur.
By the way, the A/P blog that Rex directed us to on artist’s statements is fascinating. Before my time, unfortunately.
But it fills me in on some other ideas that get floated here (and some of the, er, conversations about them) such as art and the whole idea of “communication.”
Artist’s Statements
Glad you found it, Rex.
D. are you from southern California?
And my rather breezy dismissal of the problem of artist’s statements only is applicable if they are really peripheral to your work, as I think they are to yours, Steve.
Steve:
Yes.
Thanks, David
Thanks for the good comments and the zombie vampires. And thanks for stinging me to the core, June, I’m not satisfied with just fine (though it’s probably what I’ll end up with, anyway). I’m working on both an improved version and a completely different one, which I’ll post here when ready (day or two?).
Meanwhile, I saw Lisa Hunter drew some good comments to a recent post on the subject of statements: The (dreaded) Artist’s Statement.
What I am taking away from this post is to write two short paragraphs,
the upper one, Art:
something like what you already have.
and the lower one, Artist:
what David suggested.
What I am taking away from this post is to write two short paragraphs,
the upper one, Art:
something like what you already have.
the lower one, Artist:
about oneself, following David’s suggestion.
Oh dear, Steve, I was afraid of that. Once again I’ve managed to say just the wrong thing.
At some point, it might be fun to address on A/P the question of where, in our art practices, being (merely?)”competent” is acceptable.
It’s a long standing grouch of mine that we are expected to be exquisitely excellent in everything we do and touch — and if we aren’t, then we shouldn’t do and touch.
My “mere” competence lies in my hand-stitching, which I only do as finish work, I only do when nothing else will work, and I do do groaning and kvetching. But I’ve at least stopped stomping on myself because the hand-stitches are at best, merely competent. Why should they be more?
I feel the same way about artist’s statements: I am not the Great American Novelist, nor was meant to be.
But, Steve, you might take what I said as a compliment — competence is in pretty scarce supply nowadays…
I am late on this discussion, but I like the revision a lot, Steve. I am of the mind to actually leave out the first sentence though. The double take that I do wondering what the third “thing” is makes me stop and interupts the flow. And it doesn’t shed much light on the rest of the statement for me. You seem like more of a concrete person, so the mystery stuff feels a bit generic.
I don’t expect to find out anything about you in the artist statement, unless it relates to the work directly. Such as you love to hike and happen upon out of the way natural places, etc etc. Don’t get me wrong, I love to know about artists’ personal lives, but I don’t look for that in an artist statement. I don’t look to understand the work from your stement, although sometimes the clues are nice when the work is very opaque. I do not necessarily understand all art just by looking…
Rather, I look for what you see as connections either in the final products, or the process of making images. Sometimes an artist will provide info on how the pieces are made if technique is really important. Like D., I want more specificity, always, but then again, your work may not demand specificity, if that makes sense. Your work is not, or not yet, about specificity, but more universal truths.
Another thought: what do you see as the difference between “discovery of a place” versus “discovery of place?” I wonder if the latter resonates with you at all, esp in light of some of your comments about keeping things general?
I have done tons of these statements, too. For me they can be like extracting teeth, but are also a helpful exercise in articulating what I am trying to do. It is like standing back and talking about a show, reflecting on the work. After particularly intense production periods that don’t allow for much reflection, that can be a very helpful thing to get me to the next step. Use it for your own good is what I say. And keep it real.
No, June, you said just the right thing. I agree perfection is a trap, but that’s not what’s going on here. That would, however, be a good topic to take up sometime.
Leslie: Thanks for your comments as always. I think you’re right about the first sentence, but wrong about the mystery. Perhaps because mystery for me does not mean something spooky, but something enticing I don’t understand. As for place, I think one approaches that by understanding different kinds of specific places; it’s a goal, but one I feel is presumptuous for me to address at this point.
D, I think remnants has wandered into it.
OK, I’m convinced. Your #3 is very good indeed.
However, I’m with Leslie when she said,
“For me they can be like extracting teeth, but are also a helpful exercise in articulating what I am trying to do. It is like standing back and talking about a show, reflecting on the work. After particularly intense production periods that don’t allow for much reflection, that can be a very helpful thing to get me to the next step. Use it for your own good is what I say.”
Steve:
I’m with Leslie. Your revisions keep making the statement better. It’s a lot to ask, but could you keep revising? I want to see what your next iteration will bring.
Speaking of the image that accompanies your post: it’s a stunner. From my own experience I must say that successfully organizing a landscape image that runs flat out to distant features and without the usual framing elements like branches and the such is damned hard. The sliver of water in the image, which cuts into the surrounding darkness, reads to me as a primary source of light. It supports the profiles and silhouettes above it while providing a key contrast. The sense of mystery that you mention in your statement comes across.
Steve, I just looked at version #3 (update 2), and for me it’s a huge improvement. You’ve told us what leads you to shoot the photos, something about your process, and how you evaluate your results. As far as personal info, you’ve given enough for me to better understand the connection between you and the work I’m seeing. Good going!
One suggestion I might make is to delete or change the sentence that begins “To convey the actuality…” I’m not convinced that b&w photos are inherently more realistic or expressive than color ones. Is there something else you could say instead about your choice of b&w over color? Does it emphasize some aspect of the scenes that you feel wouldn’t come across as well in color?
Whoa! Version 3 is wonderful, so much more personal, specific and clear. THe first sentence is fantastic. You sensing a mystery is much more compelling than the general idea of mystery.
I think I agree with David – especially about the word actuality in particular. There’s something underneath that belief you need to let us in on. Because I am not willing to accept the implied premise yet either…
I also suggest breaking up that sentence. Its long and complex – too much to cover. Plus a change in the rythm would be nice and the next sentence is long too. I wouldn’t want you to change that one (except maybe take out “in question” but that’s a picky thing not important).
I’m with Leslie–Version 3 is great! I really get a sense of what the artwork means to you, and how you approach your artmaking.
“To convey the actuality both of place and of personal experience, I harness not only the realism of black and white photography, but also its expressive power, its ability to influence perception and emotion via lighting and tonality.” Whoa! TMI–too much information, at least all in one sentence. I don’t know too much about the history of photography, so for someone like me, my attention just dropped. In that sentence, I’ve got to envision: ‘personal experience’, ‘b&w photography’, ‘perception’, ’emotion’, and then technical things. Crazy! Just break it up and you’re set.
Steve.
I like it better. Someone above suggested that you keep at it. I agree. Some of the sentences are so long and full. Keep it direct; it will match well with your work.
I’m impressed with what a little friendly advice has done to the initial statement. And I also agree with these last comments — break up that sentence –keep it direct. Your rewriting skills are very impressive indeed.