Thursday, January 30, 2014

Week 1 Reading - Art & Fear

1. What work have you made that seems most yours? Why?

I think the work that seems most mine is work I have done for others.  Either a friend will ask me to paint/draw/design something for him/her, or I start something with the intent to give it to someone in particular.  From that point on, even though the subject matter itself usually relates more to the person for whom I am doing the work, there is something about doing the work for someone else that seems to relate more to myself than doing work just for me.  I think it may be the awareness that this person has recognized me as an artist and has come to me with a request to do my work for them.  When I am working for myself, I am only subconsciously aware of being an artist because it's something I have been all my life.  A lot of the time, as they mention in the book, work you make for yourself is really only practise. Something you do for someone else, whether or not you value it as a finished piece or as practise, will always be viewed as an example of your finished work by the person you give it to.

2. Who are artists that are making work that relates to you? Are there other influences? How are these other influences connected to your work?

Thomas Sailot is a painter I've been keeping my eye on ever since I had to choose a master painter to copy for painting class.  Although I haven't painted much since then, I've been seeing updates of his work.  I think it's hard for me to find artists who produce work that I consistently love.  They may be great artists, and I may be attracted to some of their work, but some things they produce just don't resonate with me personally.  This makes sense, since this happens even with my own work.  Of course I strive to make stuff I'm in love with, but there's the occasional total miss.  Sailot, although there is, every once in a while, a piece I don't like, produces work I love a lot more consistently than any other artist I know by name (although there really aren't many I know by name).  A lot of time I feel that he paints the sort of thing I would like to paint (and after doing the master copy of his piece "Bored Stiff", I know that I DO enjoy painting the sort of thing he paints).
As a graphic designer, of course there is so much work out there that I love and wish I had made and from which I draw inspiration for my own work.  When you see their work as part of a personal profile, their name is associated with it, but unless you're specifically researching and browsing the work of other designers, you usually don't see it this way. Primarily, graphic design work appears out in the real, wider world, outside the bubble of graphic designers interacting with each other.  Websites, food labels, business storefronts, magazines, billboards--all these things are designed.  But in these instances, the designer's name is not attached to the final product.  Unless you follow a designer or a project very closely, you probably have no idea who made most of what you see.
Other influences that I can identify are usually peers or acquaintances.  These are people who are my friends, but who often also seem like competitors.  Sometimes they truly are competitors.  It's usually not a good thing to compare yourself to other artists because everyone has a unique set of circumstances that led to the specific work he or she makes, and your circumstances are never going to be the same.  But sometimes this can be a fantastic source of personal drive.  To work harder.  To make more.  To try a different aesthetic.  To acquire a new skill.  While sometimes this drive comes from what is, for me, a bit of a negative place, accompanied by the realization that I'm not doing enough or that my skill isn't where it should be, or that I don't like anything I've made, or that maybe I shouldn't have even gone into this field, it usually results in a more positive sense of accomplishment after I've pushed myself to fix the problem that caused the doubt.
One of my specific influences recently is a girl I went to high school with but didn't know well.  She was sort of THE art girl, someone I looked up to because I wished I could be that widely recognized for what I do, someone I was maybe a little envious of.  She went to SCAD for textiles and recently graduated, then designed a print for Lily Pulitzer that went into production.  It was then that I seriously revisited the idea of designing print fabrics myself, just before starting BA.

3. "And while a hundred civilizations have prospered (sometimes for centuries) without computers or windmills or even the wheel, none have survived even a few generations without art" p. 104.  Why do you think this is so?

This is a difficult question to answer for someone who has just sort of intuitively always had a need and/or a desire to make art.  I can't tell if I'm different from the general population because of this, or if this is an intrinsic impulse that everyone has.  If it's the latter, then that probably answers the question.  I also think it's easier to visually emulate or imitate your surroundings than it is to generate completely new ideas or innovate new technologies, so maybe this is why art came first.

4. "Art is something you do out in the world, or something you do about the world, or even something you do for the world.  The need to make art may not stem solely from the need to express who you are, but from a need to complete a relationship with something outside of yourself." p. 108.  Which of these ideas resonates most with you? Why? If they all resonate, how do they differ?

A lot of my personal projects come from a feeling or a set of feelings I have regarding myself in relation to the world, often a struggle to define myself within it.  This would be the generation of art in response to the need to express who I am, but who I am means nothing independently of my relationship to the outside world.  Therefore, this is art made about the world.  As a graphic designer, however, the nature of my work is to make something for the world.  It is to add pieces to the built world that other people will interact with.  Especially because, as I explained in my answer to number 2, a lot of design work becomes sort of separated by its designer and most people don't know who designed what, I consider this work to be for the world because I will most likely be separated from it.  I think where these ideas differ is just how much of the self is involved in the need to make a particular piece, or how personal the piece is.  When a piece comes from a very personal struggle, it is much less for the world and more about the world or the artist's interaction with the world.  When a piece is less personal, it may be much more for the world and much less or maybe not at all about the interaction.

5. What do you notice about yourself? What are your methods? Subject matter? The answers do not have to be limited to art related topics.

Everything I make sort of has this look to me... Even when I make several things that all fit into completely different aesthetics, all my work looks the same.  To me, it looks like I made it.  I can't really describe it... it's as if everything I make still seems a little bit messy, even when it's in the cleanest, most minimalist aesthetic.  Most things I make tend to have a slight historical edge, whether it's a pattern, the colours, the name, the shape.
A lot of the time, I feel like my process for generating work is in the wrong order. Sometimes I have a picture in my head, instantly, finished, before I even start, or before I've even considered making a piece of art, but the image is vague enough that it is often still very difficult to get the piece right, and most of the time it never actually gets there but turns into something else entirely.  They talked about this in the book, too, on pages 15-17, so of course it's perfectly normal.
In fine art, the problem with this approach is as they explain it, that when working with the materials, it can be difficult to retain the idea you had in your head before you started and to get the piece to come to life.  In graphic design, though, this approach sometimes means forgoing the research phase, or being too committed to an idea to realize that it may not be the best solution for the client.  Similarly, choosing a colour palette before designing a logo might not be the best approach either, because once a client sees your logo in one colour palette, they assume that's final, when really it's quite easy to change it to a variety of colours depending on what they want.  But most of the time, I choose colours first.  Maybe these habits can be good, maybe they will prove to be intuitive.  Maybe they're bad though, and hopefully, if they are, I'll break them as I gain experience actually working with clients.
Subject matter varies by what's requested of me because this is the first time in a while that I've had a choice in what I make.  I like portraits a lot though, and actually, right in between reading the last page of the book and starting to write my answers to these questions, I had one of those visions in my head I was talking about for a next painting, so I sketched it out really quick to make sure I could get it to work.  Again, it's sort of a self-reflexive piece.  The projects I am working on for BA, patternmaking, draw from more abstracted and cultural subject matter, which is a place I always go back to when I'm not sure what to do about content.

6. What do you care about? The answers do not have to be limited to art related topics.

I care about my heritage, which as I said provides a decent amount of content. This is an interest that has been engrained in my throughout my upbringing by other members of my family.
I care a lot about the opinions other people generate about me when they see my work; sometimes this is bad, because thinking about other people can be a hindrance or just because it can make me pretty anxious about my own work, but most of the time it's advantageous to keep in the back of my mind the entire time I'm working because it sets my quality standard even higher.
I care about taking breaks, having time to myself, and enjoying working rather than stressing myself out by working 24/7.  In some respects I'm a bit ashamed of this, because I could probably be a much better artist, student, etc. if I were willing to put more time into it.  Mostly this shame comes from comparisons with other, much harder working artists though, who are sort of anomalies regarding how committed they are.  This is an easy thing to change though, should I wish to.

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