The other day I read a post on Erin Wilson's blog about a post on another blog offering advice to photographers interested in shooting humanitarian projects around the world. The original post, "Advice: An Exercise in Presumption (OR: How to Transition to a Life of Gratifying Poverty As A Humanitarian Photographer), was authored by David duChemin.* The article has good advice for any creative, but one item stuck with me:
"Don’t assume that you’re talented just because your friends say so. Everyone has a boat-load of fans that will praise their mediocrity. Don’t seek fans, seek critics. Seek people who will tell you how to be stronger, not people who will stroke your ego. Of course it can take years to develop an eye, but align yourself with some talented people, not necessarily photographers, who will speak the truth in love and either help you get better or point you to another direction."
I couldn't agree more that artists can benefit from an honest critique of work, particularly in highly technical fields like traditional photography and digital media. And, if you want to earn a living as an artist, critique may help you shape your work into more commercially viable product.
But the article also reminded me of Karen, a fellow student of mine in a summer painting class at Georgetown. She was a mature student majoring in psychology, just about to graduate, and had taken the painting class as a treat to herself. We all had a great time, painting on the banks of the
Potomac; on top of the dorms overlooking the DC skyline; and at the small, hidden observatory at the top of the hill. Like most of the other students (and me), Karen's work was average in comparison to the two or three brilliant painters we had in the class. But she threw herself into it and I think she had a great time.
On the last day of class, our professor - who had been bored, distracted and invisible for much of the term - wandered in and out of our studio tables and asked each of us what our future "plans" were for art. He told me to stick with it, because I "had ideas". He then went on to Karen and told her, in front of the entire class, to try something else - that she had "no talent." I'll never forget that moment and I'm sure she hasn't either. The perfect example of a poor critic. No direction, no instruction, no real feedback. Criticism that doesn't encompass thoughtful, constructive advice is just displaced punishment meant for someone else. Plain and simple.
I've spent much of my professional life encouraging people from all walks of life to be more creative and attend arts and cultural events. Worked for a foundation that funded programs with exactly those goals. Undertaken research that sought to understand how and why people participate in arts and culture and designed programs that encompassed the accepted best practices of the field. But I would be hard pressed to tell you where you could find agreement on how to measure the artistic quality of the visual arts at any level of professionalism. Even the funding community - not always but often - relies on the aesthetic judgment of one or two individuals who are making decisions influenced through a series of filters. Past experience, board preferences, overwork. Which loops back to another point that duChemin made that is so important:
"First, you don’t need to get paid for your images in order to create great, world-changing stuff. It helps, but it’s not necessary. Thinking so creates a trap and makes your images more about money than about truth and beauty and witnessing to what is and what should be. Money can be a means to an end, but is not the end itself. If it is, you're in the wrong line of work."
* If you have a free moment today, check out the recycled 70's crewel tote bag on Erin's blog - pretty cool stuff.