I’ve been reading a lot about how certain conversations and comments have a way of halting the progress of an artist. I was surprised to learn that a positive remark has the same or similar effect for some artist
What happens is that our (individual) need for approval shows up and unconsciously we try to replicate the applause. In both cases, negative or positive, the artist moves away from his or her personal intent to “what can I do that will please others or at least avoid ridicule”. As result the artist becomes “Stopped” and avoids creativity in his or her work.
Does this ring true for anyone? I ask the question looking for ways to support the teaching of art and creativity.
Bob,
This rings true for me. My first exhibition, which I think was very successful, almost ruined my art because I suddenly began to paint with the outside world in mind after that. It took time before I returned to the progress of my own vision.
I wonder if this is related to the mental “block” that typically sets in when one fears or suspects that the eventual work will not live up to some standard, whether internal or external. Bob is talking about work being done that is uncreative, rather than not getting done at all. But perhaps at the root is the fear of failure, which inhibits progress in all fields, not only art. (Of course, the lack of fear of failure can be a worse problem — witness the current international situation.)
In terms of teaching, it seems that one has to experience criticism and “failure” while still feeling safe on a deeper level. This is one thing good teachers provide.
My problem was not fear of failure, but an idea that I was making things with an audience in my mind, rather than in the isolation I had experienced before the first exhibition. I was reacting to this imagined internal audience. But there is a difference between a performer and an artist — at least in some critical ways. It was not until I could get myself mentally “off stage” that I could follow my ideas in the direction they led, without worrying about the [future] audience.
Hi Bob,
What you say feels true to me — that comments and critiques can push the artist toward wanting to please rather than to communicate.
One notion that strikes me is that desensitization might be the key to overcoming the problem. I think traditional art schools try to use that approach — lots and lots of criticism as well as lots and lots of praise, coming from lots and lots of different directions. This means that in the end only the artist herself can decide what works.
When the comments are sparse, each one takes on perhaps unwanted significance. When the comments are one-sided, as Karl said, they can lead the artist to believe things that won’t help him move along.
But it’s also extremely individualized and that’s the connundrum that the teacher needs to understand at a gut level. What might lead one person astray will be perfectly valid for another. The art teacher, it seems to me, has to be part psychologist (or at least truly simpatico with a wide range of personalities) as well as teacher of technique and creativity.
My experience as a student, looking back, is that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (sorry for the cliche, but it seems true). After years of critiques, in both undergrad and grad school, I’ve learned to take critique much less personally than I used to. I’ve also learned to sort out what’s useful information and what’s not, as well as who to seek feedback from and who not to. Not that I’ve got this down 100%, but the experience in school certainly helped.
What I’ve also learned is that there are long periods of time when I don’t want any feedback at all. If I’m trying to find my way into a new body of work, I need to make my own assessments for awhile, run into my own problems, and come up with my own solutions. Hearing someone else’s opinion during that stage, whether positive or negative, just ends up being more noise to filter out.
Of course once you have a show you’ll hear what a lot of people think, and the feedback can be useful.
Regarding teaching, my approach has always been to try to tell the student where and how improvements can be made, rather than just pointing out what’s not working. Not necessarily giving them solutions, but at least suggesting something they might explore to improve.
If they’re moving along and making good progress, I may just say “great, keep going”. If they’re stuck, I’ll try to give them feedback to help them get going again, or possibly give them a specific assignment to help them get themselves unstuck.
Wow Bob,
Did you ever nail this one. Yes.
Someday I need to tell the story of my first success at a young, young age because it was immediately followed by long blast of drugs and debauchery. It’s a wonder I survived. Most of my friends from that era are dead.
Hmmm…
You’ve just given me the inspiration for my next post.
“It was one of those gloriously bright and sunny Winter’s days in San Francisco. The morning light coming in from the window overlooking the bay fell full upon Thomas in the bed, dead from an overdose of heroin and cocaine.
“Looking at him, for the first time in a several years, I felt like drawing.
“I did not even feel guilty about that.”
Was it too much praise too soon? Or was it not enough, early enough, so I could learn to handle it?
Talk about crazy artists? Heh. I have some experiences to share.
Thanks Bob. What an eye opener. Your post hit me like a blast of cold water. I needed that.
About my art teacher in a German highschool:
I won the first price in my home town for a linoleum print of an industrial landscape. After my teacher told me about it, she turned to a colleague and loudly said: Blind hen finds a piece of corn. Perhaps, that was why I went into science.
Post war Germany was a crazy place
Exactly right… my style at university is so different from the things I do at home because I have to please the tutors… I will return to my own style once this course is finish and just be grateful for the learning experience and experiment.
Brigit, your teacher sounds like my Mother, who had this British (almost Monty Python) sense of humor. If you didn’t know that she was being “funny” or just joking you would feel crushed.
Karl, your situation reminds me of first time authors, who have a hit. There is a lot of pressure to repeat.
Rex, when is the post going up. You’ve got me hooked.
Bob,
You brought up a great idea. I’ve been wanting to do a critique of criticism, one, and I’ve been wanting to be a little more revealing about my early history in art scene, two.
It’ll take some guts. I may shock people without even trying to be provocative.
Saturday. That’s when it’s going up.
And Birgit?
You have touched on things from post war Germany that have made the hair on the back of my neck raise. One day, I’d love to hear more about how that influenced you.
David, I’ve gotta pick up on the cliche – Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… Yes and no for me
I had one of those tough art professors who made students cry he was so harsh. He liked to tell us that 90% of us wouldn’t be making art a year after we graduated. And he seemed to enjoy public humiliation during critiques. Yes, I “survived” his critiques and even managed to get useful stuff out of it (and never cried, thank god). But I have to say I got much more out of a less combative experience. One in which I didn’t feel like I was defending my work to the death. Grad school was a lot about defending one’s work, but my program was pretty laid back. I grew more and produced more in those two years when I felt supported yet challenged. I always talk to my students about giving harsh criticism. It is important to be honest and direct. It is also important to set up a safe context in which to give out the harsh criticism.
So I have learned to take what is helpful and leave the rest. Especially after grad school where one prof would say one thing and one would say the complete opposite!
I finished grad school 3 years ago and am still indebted to one prof who made one statement during my thesis review that really hurt at the time. It ended up strongly influencing the current direction in my work. So something may click at some later point down the road. That is pretty phenomenal.
But I have to say I got much more out of a less combative experience. One in which I didn’t feel like I was defending my work to the death.
I agree. When I teach I do it in a much more supportive way. But I can’t say I regret any of the experiences I had in school. At least when I hear criticism now I can deal with it pretty well.