I loved and hated this section of the book. Loved because since I was in elementary school I have been fascinated by educational styles/approaches. I attended 3 elementary schools and 3 high schools so there was some comparison just based on re-learning the unspoken rules of a new school, not to mention the social code of a new place. From that early age I knew that what was 'the way it has to be" was not always the way it was.
I have dreamed about attending Black Mountain College since I first read of it's amazing cast of teachers. I keep imaging a bead teacher that could give me some much needed advise on how to present my work, or how to hand dye my cloth or how to just be at ease with what I do. So this section was a wonderful reminder of all the schools that have been established based a love of craft(s).
The section was painful because of the inside stories about administration and finance. For the last 5+ years as the "art representative for Junction" I have felt like I have a begging bowl attached to me at all times along with a memorized plea to attend one of our classes. Don't get me wrong. I totally believe in Junction and the incredible way creativity dances when it is allowed to be supported and celebrated. it is just that the business side is overwhelming at times.Work that puts me at odds with administrators, some professors and more than one person who thinks or trys to tell others it is simply "easy" or "just light weight". I always bring my own art to work on while there but my time is spent teaching/organizing/checking on the classes/running interference/justifying something to somebody. Gail I think you may know what I mean. Maybe others of you also.
So for this week... I know I have asked you about your perfect class before, I want to revisit that in a new way. Tell me about the best art lesson you have ever received. Who was the teacher, how old were you , where were you, and finally how do you follow that lesson today. And no it does not have to be a formal classroom teacher, but it can be.
Now for a second question...which of the crafts schools from our book do you wish you could attend . Or if have attended what was it like. I know many of you have had the opportunity to attend other workshops or schools, feel free to compare your reality with what is projected from these schools.
Finally, I am excited about the art work you are doing for the final.
Best Art Lesson
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of learning from a creative lesson, I think of the experiences I have in junction. Even though it is when in my late 20s, I find myself still learning lessons with my art. The wonderful experiences of taking glassblowing in Junction is something that has brought a new side of my art. I have always been a person to learn new ways to express myself. I started with taking the bead and fuzing side of glass, but it was not until the glassblowing, that I learned a new process of art making. The process of making artwork with others is something I have not experienced until this. In glassblowing, one needs to rely on at least one other person to help with their work. Therefore it is about communication, trust, and collaboration. All my art has been independently done my me and only me. I love the idea of making work with other artist, it becomes a wonderful time. The community the glass people have is a pleasing and divine time together.
When I was at North Texas for my undergrad, I loved taking the studio classes. My favorite studio classes were sculpture, weaving, and watercolor painting. The sculpture class was neat because it was the first time where I made a large scale wooden sculpture that was 5ft x 4.5 x 3ft big. I enjoyed working large, however learned about the difficulty transporting things that large. It was my first time using table saws and large scale sanders. This was a great learning experience to learn about things out of my norm. With that sculpture, I also learned about abstract sculptures. The assignment was to choose an object and make a list of additives and adverbs describing that particular object. Then, create a sculpture based on a few of those words. From that lesson, I have a new Appreciation for work.
The weaving class was nice in the fact that we got to learn how to use a large floor loom. I enjoyed learning a craft that people had to use to make things for a functional use. My favorite part of using the loom was learning how to create my own patterns. The process is almost mathematical. I enjoyed coming up with new patterns and designs.
The watercolor class was my first painting college level class. I had some experiences with acrylic and watercolor in high school, but not enough. It was not until after my watercolor class that I realized how much benefit it gave to my acrylic painting. Learning the techniques of watercolor made me a better acrylic painter.
Thank you.
DeleteI never took weaving it was offered at TTU. I think I was totally afraid by the large looms and the prep work needed to begin. Little did I know that printmaking and now my bead work is just as intense.
Melanie, just like you, I became a better acrylic painter once I experienced with watercolor as well. I have developed a strong understanding of acrylic that I actually prefer it over anything else now.
DeleteIts funny that you said that learning watercolor made you a better acrylic painter, for just last week I was thinking the same thing. Except that I learned how to do watercolor before acrylics.
DeleteOut of all the schools, I connected with the School for American Crafts, Rochester Institute of Technology. I liked the community of Cranbrook and the beauty of Cranbrook's house. The house reminds me of Monet's house in France. What a beautiful and inspirational place. However, thought it would have been to uniform for me when I was reading about the community. RIT' connection between arts and sciences is up my alley and related to my interest in studying the connection between the two. As I have found, technology is a broad term and refers to something as hand tools or power tools and then computers and robots. I enjoyed their importance of having artist use hand tools for their personal touch to the artwork and to understand how the machines work. Like my study with technology in my topic for my thesis, I find that RIT's interest in technology is the same. RIT's vision for "graduates" to "work in their fields using traditional techniques and [to] conversant with the digital, aesthetic, and intellectual issues" seems to be moving in the right direction of moving forward with technology (Lauria and Fenton, 188).
ReplyDeleteDuring my undergrad at UTPA I had the best art professors. Two of the most influential to me are Marcus Farris and Jerry Lyles. Mr. Farris was my Art Education professor and Mr. Lyles was my drawing and painting professor. The most important lesson I learned from them was to follow my own instinct instead of trying to copy what was “expected” of my artwork. There was a couple of professors that expected us to paint a certain way and wanted our finished work to look a specific way. Mr. Lyles’s method was taking our particular way of sketching and figuring out a way for each of us to fit the techniques he taught us into it. I worked with Mr. Farris in the campus Art Galleries and I learned from him that art didn’t have to stop at the art studio. We continuously talked about each other’s artwork and other artists. He introduced me to artists I have never heard of and encouraged me to keep researching different styles of art. He inspired me to want to go to Grad school at TTU because of the way he expressed his experience there. If he was such a strong influence on me then I wanted to go where he studied and hopefully someday inspire one of my students to do the same.
ReplyDeleteThe Rhode Island School of Design has been calling my attention throughout these readings. I picture if being a lot like what Junction sounds like: a free space with motivation from professors. I like how the book mentions that RISD had a strong connection between classroom-studio-museum. It is interesting for me because I see myself accomplishing those three areas somewhere down the line. I teach, I want to strengthen my studio experience, and eventually spend some time working in a museum.
I am glad to know Chad has continued to connect to artists /students/educators. He is one of the good guys.
DeleteMr. Lyles’s method does sounds like a method I would prefer for sure. When a professor tries to change my style it really affects me and I can’t progress so that is a wonderful method he used.
DeleteEven though I was academically trained in art and art history, my most signifiant lessons in art were from two of my mentors--Luis Valderama Sanchez, a Columbian Monumental Sculptor and Rob Erdle, Regents Professor of Watercolor at North Texas. It was difficult to be accepted to study with them--Rob hosted a critique. After years on the waiting list, literally someone died and I was invited to attend--provisionally, of course. (I had two messages on my answering machine--one letting the art group I belong to know that a venerable member had died and the very next message was an invitation for me to substitute for that member--because clearly she couldn’t attend).
ReplyDeleteLuis, a founding member of the Southwest Pastel Society, taught figure and portrait classes at part of the Meadow’s Foundation that used to house all of the art organizations in Dallas. Luis, was an old man when I knew him--He was 95 when he died 5 years ago--was an amazing person. He drew like a sculptor; the correct line, in the correct place at the correct time. I drew like a painter: I would fuss with a shape or a contour and he would surgically and cleanly form the gesture of a head or hand or a foot. He would come to my studio and teach me the “old ways”. We created sanded paper for pastels--a mix of wall paper paste (the glue kind) and pumice- atomized on the surface with at Venturi pipe. We shimmed and blocked using clay with vaseline to create plaster molds.
Luis mentored me with love and friendship from my late 20s until his death.
Let me describe one of the most difficult but memorable lessons. He gave me his first editions of the Paul Richer anatomies. We would study Richer’s anatomies. Set up a manikin to draw the figure. Using my knowledge from the Richer studies, I was to create skeletal structure and musculature of a human defined by the pose of the manikin. It was a challenging way to draw. And then, he would say, “using only your mind only rotate the figure 20 degrees and draw again”. He gave me discipline and knowledge.
The most important lessons, I learned from Luis was to see clearly and love creation. He taught me to really look at things. For example, with a chair did the maker love making a particular part more than another? Where was the poetry? What could I learn from the artifact that spoke of it’s maker? Where was the joy and where was the work?
In a letter to Cezanne, his friend Emile Zola wrote:
“There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.”
— Émile Zola from a letter to Paul Cézanne (16 April 1860)
Luis helped me find the craftsman in me .
I have never attended any of the craft schools mentioned in the book. I would love to attend one to make furniture or things from clay. Perhaps Shaker Institution would be a good first step for me. My father laughed outright at me when I told him I would like to live the
Shaker proverb, “May your words be few and seasoned with grace.” Given the humor in that, making furniture might be a better application of my talents.
Thank you for a wonderful story.
DeleteYour invitation sounds like an university teaching job...you have to wait for someone to die or retire before there is an opening you can slip into.
I feel like it was “meant to be” for you to be trained by Sanchez and Erdle given your circumstance. I really like the quote you posted. Do you ever think you can be both a poet and a craftsman?
DeleteI must say that the second section gave me mixed emotions as well. I like understanding more about how Art and crafts roots grew in education. I really enjoyed the view of how classes developed and how artist and students built these wonderful communities. I know Cranbrook has been studied before, but I feel like I have a much more clear knowledge now.
ReplyDeleteTrying to think of my best lesson or assignment is difficult. Two come to mind that are most influential. The first lesson, and possibly the single incident that has carried with me in my art making, came from an old, gray haired, feeble man. He was a long time friend of my grandfather. Shortly after my grandfather taught me how to weld with a Crackerbox Arc (1950-60ish) he took me to meet this man.Don was his name, I was 12 years old and my grandfather who was an artist himself wanted to show me that I could do much more than weld two inch steel pipe into fences.Don took me to his barn/ studio, His work was made of welded found objects and hardware: Spark plugs, nuts, bolts, wire, shovels, hoes, rakes, air tanks, ect. He used almost anything that had any metal on it. He made birds, kinetic windmills, and figures. But to get to the point, his studio was a table (welding equipment), and a wall of buckets( filled will all the little components. This taught me I dont have to be rich to make art. "You can make art with ANYTHING" ,he told me. And that has stayed with me till this day. My work has much mixed media and found objects as components. He still has his studio and here is his site which his wife Peggy helps maintain. ( side note she makes incredible gingersnap cookies)
The second major lesson I had came in college. It was an Intro to Metal Fabrication class at Tech. After learning how oxy-acetylene welding worked, I was assigned to make a 6"x6" cube, 'a perfect cube'. I finished it a week or so later and my professor looked at it, and threw it into the scrap bin, and said "good work, but its shit."(pardon the language) I was upset and frustrated at first, then collected myself and started over. The second one I made was "perfect". Clean welds, grided and polished with 90 degree angles all around. After our critique our professor took all the cubes that were made and threw them away! which started a small uproar, which was consoled by this speech:(profanity was involved so I will use s***)
"Your work is s***! And will continue to be s***! You are aspiring artist, to create 'ART' is to create s***... and only after you have made a heaping pile can you justify yourself. So go make more s***."
Now at first I was offended. But the next day it clicked for me. Everyone must master a craft. To master something takes time and a whole bunch of trial and error. I am not just going to take a sheet of steel, make a few welds, add some paint and call it art unless I go through the process. I am not going to create a masterpiece the first try. I look in my studio today and I have a huge pile of s**, it will never be displayed, it will never be sold, at the end of the semester most of it will be recycled or throw away. But, I do have a few "masterpieces", and that pile is evidence of my work. The trace of this process of interacting with materials, the trial and error, that got myself to the point of perfecting my craft with a specific material is why i call myself an artist.
I also sincerely apologize if I offended anyone with the language. It was one of my most valuable lessons and most impacting memory. I thought I should share it in detail.
"
http://www.endangeredspeciesart.com/
DeleteThis is Don's site and work!!
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I think we have all heard the language before, so no problem. I had the same lesson in high school but it was in a gentler manner. My clay teacher pushed us to throw a pot at least 8" high. When we did, he would come over look at it and then make us cut it in half to see how we really did. The lesson was good because he did the same thing to his pot which was closer to 18". So I understand your lesson but I will always try to find another way to deliver the message.
DeleteI really am tired of the "beat them up, tear them down" pedagogy. I know I still have the scares from my grad days. Not a good thing.
I think in order to perfect something you have to have trial and error and if making a ton of crap gets you there than that is what it takes. I personally would have liked to have kept my samples instead of having them thrown in the trash because I am a visual learner and I like to compare each piece to see how it is changing into perfection. Therefore, I would have been upset if I were you Stephan. I would have understood the lesson but I would have wanted my models. I am scared of the beat them up, tear them down pedagogy too. I haven’t had that in an art teacher yet but with when I played sports I had a coach like that. If a teacher uses language like that, no matter what the lesson is, I go into shutdown mode. That is just my nature. I don’t get upset, I just shutdown. For me to build inspiration from a shutdown mode I basically have to start over.
DeleteI sat through a 5 hour critique my freshman year in pre-Architecture. The whole time the prof called us snotty nosed brats and said all our work was BS. I sat through the whole thing, even as others left to go to work or their next classes. In the end, he thanked the few of us that stayed to be beat up for those 5 hours. I realize now he was coming from his own frustration--he had failed to communicate what he wanted in the projects and was frustrated to see us all failing one after the other. He was a first year college prof, probably with no education training. I do notice a difference in my professors between those that have taken pedagogy and those that simply have a skill.
DeleteThe second half of the question:
ReplyDeleteI have never had the opportunity to attend or visit any of the schools in the book. But I will be moving to California this August. I was drawn to the work shown for California College of Arts. Robert Brady is an artist I have recognized and admired for some time. After learning about CCA I think i will try to take a weekend and go visit next year. Perhaps it will influence another transfer??
There have been a few great art lesson moments in my life. I think the first ever was my grandma teaching me how to sew. At first I was complaining because I thought it was boring. Never would I have imagined back then that I would grow up and get a degree in Apparel Design…She taught me everything. How to thread the sewing machine and serger machine, whine the bobbin and tailor my clothes by adjusting the pattern. When thinking how I still follow this method today…I actually think, by my grandmother teaching me how to sew she paved the way for my future, since most of my interest today involve sewing. Another great teacher I had was my mother teaching me to paint as a child. The main thing I learned from her wasn’t proportion or perspective, but blending. I learned how to blend colors with a very natural gradient transition, (even with acrylic which is hard to do) from her. That is what got me interested in color to begin with, which now in my life, I can’t live without color surrounding me. However, with all of the art influence I had growing up; there was one teacher that taught me in a way, which made me look at every object in life differently. Most of you probably know him. His name is Terry Morrow and he teaches drawing at Tech. I remember going into his class (which was “Life Drawing”) feeling intimidated at first because I knew I wasn’t the best at drawing but eager to learn and try my hardest. There was one thing he said that has stuck with me and will forever remain. He said, “When looking at the model, instead of drawing the lines you see, try to find the shapes you see and draw them”, simple right? When he said that a spark when off and all of a sudden I saw the model in a completely new perspective. Things started clicking with proportions and perspective that have never clicked before. My intimidation turned to excitement. Every student learns differently and the way he taught was a thrill to me because I was learning in new ways that I have never learned before and I understood his reasoning, therefore a lot of growth was developed throughout his class. I drew things in his class I never thought I was capable of creating. I left there feeling proud of myself and full of new knowledge. Everything I see now is in a form of shapes instead of lines. I think my brain understands shapes instead of lines, which is why everything makes better sense to me now than before. This is how I use it in my everyday life now. I know this probably sounds a little over the top but this sincerely had a big impact on my art education. I never even told Professor Morrow this either…haha, I wonder what he would say. I haven’t been to Junction yet but information like this or seeing new perspectives is something I hope for. By the talk of the town, I know this will probably happen along with other experiences as well.
ReplyDeleteFor the second question I really like Rhode Island School of Design. I like the fact that there is so much textile history within the school. I also love Cranbrook though. I love the community of it and the environment seems so picturesque that I feel I would have tons of inspiration there. I also love the history and that it has been the center for fiber-arts since the twenties. I couldn’t imagine being able to work on one of the seventy looms at the Kingswood weaving studio. Have any of you heard of the, “The Namtenga Project” Cranbrook initiated? It seems so awesome. I wish I could be apart of it. You can check it out here… http://schools.cranbrook.edu/podium/default.aspx?t=128647
Brea-
DeleteThe Namtenga Project is amazing. Thanks for sharing that.
Brea, Mr. Lyles, my drawing professor in Undergrad, had the same method as yours. He encouraged me to draw with shapes and if you see his paintings you can tell that it is also his own method.
Delete
ReplyDeleteI remember art classes most positively when I think of my experiences as a child and then now as an adult. This is because I am not now so worried about failure but about learning, and as a child I just saw art as something I very much needed or wanted to do so there was no negative. Though now I can of course get very frustrated with myself or disappointed in results there is not a thought that I won’t continue working on, though sometimes with a break. I remember one or two undergraduate professors that were very important. One Milo Russell (VCU), always took us (students) very seriously and would diligently suggest artists that we might look at and rave when he could see we had put our heart into an assignment. I remember him as being tough but mostly when he felt you weren’t passionate about what you were doing. Some how he could tell when a piece was from your heart or just perhaps a last minute painting. Honestly sometimes at 17 & 18 I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing anywhere, but I do feel lucky I had this teacher. Other teachers, though sometimes positive of course, just seemed to have an idea in their head of what they felt you should be doing and what they were looking for
Recently when it comes to art I have not taken credit studio classes but just found someone teaching a class, workshop or demonstration and attended. The figure drawing class I attend,(taught by Ellen Sonderquist) it is a great class because it is in some way a refuge in my crazy days teaching and a chance to be with artists of all ages and experience. Some are sculptors, some painters some high school students. The special part is of course an accepting teacher/artist that loves what they are doing in this case drawing the figure. She often does draw when we do but is gently teaching through suggestions, visiting talking and demonstrating when we request or just when she seems to know we are at a crossroads on a drawing. The class is about 3 hours and we do stop to share work. She often shares pictures of student work and encourages us to try different media and styles out. Though there is a element of acceptance there is still a bit of an edge and expectation in the sense you want to produce something while there and you know you will have constructive and honest criticism and help.
Which of the craft schools to attend would I guess always cone down to what artist/teacher were there and because of that I would want to go to several. But I narrowed it down to two. When considering a school it is tough as reading makes most of them so interesting, but it also is so hard not to be influenced by the Artist/Teachers. First is Black Mountain College . What impressed me was the teachers at first Joseph Albers then the list continued with Anni Albers and the textiles. and others on up to Mothewell . It would have been amazing to be there when ceramics was bringing in Leach Hamada & Yahagi. But I especially liked that the school was a draw to Voulkos and Mackenzie. What an exciting place. I was impressed by the idea of Bauhaus where “craft was a critical component and… not less worthy”. Black Mountain being a refuge for those fleeing the war in Europe also made it a place ripe for exchange of ideas and creativity. Since it is not running now my second choice would be Cranbrook especially when looking at the work they are doing now and how innovative some of their craft were in the ‘30s and ‘40s. At first I am a little bit taken back by the overwhelming presence of a planned community that even included school and church, and I am a bit concerned that it might be too structured, But a school with a history of crafts people and amazing things still being created makes me want to at least visit it one day. I did think it was good that they encouraged production as it is just in many cases a necessary fact and I appreciate crafts people being involved in learning about all kinds of decisions involving the items in our life.
I to can become inhibited in my work through failure. I am finding that the more I work and become comfortable in one medium, the less fear I have of failure.
Delete“This is because I am not now so worried about failure but about learning”
DeleteGail, this statement is so true. I have never thought of this before but this is truly how I feel as well. When I was in high school I went into the class focusing on a grade instead of the material and gaining knowledge but now I don’t even think about a grade. I just want to consume as much knowledge as possible. It is weird how maturity does that to you.
Debbie, I am like that too. If I become comfortable with a certain medium I become fearless and a big risk taker which is my favorite stage.
I agree with you ladies. I feel the same way about my artwork. I love to take risks and learn new mediums but at the same time I also feel scared that I might not be able to grasp it or learn it.
DeleteI found it really difficult to pinpoint on "best art lesson" I was ever taught; it seems from the moment I could verbalize my need for art materials, I've been encouraged and involved in art making. In reflecting back, moments stand out to me, things I remember from the minimal elementary art I had and private art lessons my parents let me take one summer. I remember larger-than-life teachers and professors introducing me to new art methods.
ReplyDeleteThere are probably two moments though that were pivotal to how I perceive my art making and how I create. The first came through my high school teacher--nothing is precious. Through several drawing exercises where we students swapped easels over and over again, I learned to loosely hold my efforts--nothing is final, nothing is "set in stone," everything can be reworked. Until it is done. This was very important to my ability to work through ideas and problems; not to get stuck on one precious area in a drawing or painting, but to continue working and reworking until finally the piece says what it needs to. It also keeps me from seeing a work as "ruined" or "wrong;" since nothing is a precious, sacred piece I can continue layering and pushing it. Sometimes years will go by in between efforts.
The second moment is much of the same idea, but in my 3d world. I finally became looser and more creative in my 3D work upon listening to and watching Randy Broadnax at a workshop. HIs ceramic pieces are amazing to behold--bulbous, voluminous, and paper thin! Watching him work the clay though was stunning to bold hold and after he spent quite a while stretching and pushing the clay as large and wide as it could go--he shocked us all by cutting it from the bat and plopping it onto the floor. We viewed it as a waste, as a loss. Whereas he demonstrated that it opened new possibilities; he then cut, pulled, joined the clay and turned it into a large sculptural fish right in front of us. Watching Randy work finally allowed that same drawing lesson from my high school years to jump the gap from 2D to 3D--nothing is precious. Take your materials, shape them, work them. Be the boss. And if the piece isn't going the way you envisioned...take a risk.
I'm at the point in my school year where lessons are winding down, I'm focused on firing the last clay, handing back artwork. It always amazes me how quickly this arrives for me; I actually have two "end of the school year" processes, one at each campus. I'm reflecting back on what I wanted to achieve with my students--always surprised how much we did get done in the short time we have together, although I am aware of the lessons on my scope and sequence that we didn't have time for. In the business of finalizing my school year, I plan to take time to look ahead to next year. This class has opened up new areas of study for me with my students: I'd love to bring more weaving into my classroom, both individual projects and group weavings. I'd like to test some of the organization ideas we were exposed to from the different art schools/communities. I think I'd need to look over those better, but to have an element in my classroom that is open for independent discovery would be wonderful.
I'll have to answer the craft school question tomorrow morning--I've just realized my textbook is on my desk at work. How studious of me, right? I did enjoy this section; I was able to read over it once and then go back through more slowly due to the extra time I had this week as a hall monitor for the STAAR testing. That was a nice blessing.
Emily, I like your first experience. I think keeping in mind that “nothing is final, nothing is "set in stone," everything can be reworked”, is a good life lesson in general. Sometimes I have to tell myself that statement to get through hard days. As long as you have hope then you can have a vision to change it.
DeleteEmily, the swapping easels project was my favorite drawing exercise in high school. I actually tried it with my fifth graders one year and as difficult as it was to get them to let go and let others add to their work, they ended up looking great.
DeleteAfter reading everyone's experiences I reminded myself that I was supposed to comment on their posts. I'm not sure what to say except wow, aren't we lucky! So many of us are drawn to teaching because we know what "good" should look and feel like. Each one of us had a good, and in many cases, great mentors and examples to follow. I too have had this, so here's my story.
ReplyDeleteI've taken A LOT of technique classes; during undergrad and then after, as an adult. I've learned so much about "how to" do this or that project, technique, or work with a certain medium. I got pretty facile with many techniques and my work is well executed. But, for many years my work really lacked a soul. It took a while for any professor or instructor to really reach me, but one did break through. A few years ago I went with a few of my students and some of my peers to take a glass class in Vancouver, Canada. The artist/instructor was someone whose work I'd admired for a long time and had a reputation as a tough taskmaster on his students. Nonetheless, I decided to take the class.
The workshop was 5 days long and there was a ton of work to do. Surprisingly, none of the techniques the instructor taught were all that new. Apparently, I'd been exposed to so many techniques that I'd begun to revisit the same ones as the previous classes. Confidently I set out on my assigned tasks and created the pieces I was assigned. I showed my pieces on day three and we had a group critique. All of the students in the class praised my work. The instructor sat silently for a few minutes and then chimed in with, "you are lazy and have nothing to say." I sat quietly and waited for him to continue. He didn't say another word. So I got a little pissed off. I challenged him in front of the group and asked, "What do you see that makes you think I am lazy?" He said, Your technique is perfect, but you didn't go the extra mile to go beyond technique and make us feel or think anything about the work. I was stunned because he'd seen right through me. I didn't have anything to say, and I was lazy about trying to say anything. Luckily I was older and at the point in my maturity that I could really hear what he said and put it into practice. I appreciated his candor and still think about his judgement of my work regularly. He has made me a better artist and someone who questions my work as I create. I now push myself harder and expect more of myself in my work. Again, I think I'm so very lucky. As an aside, my first MAE class, really knocked my socks off and made me rethink everything I thought about my art and why I teach.
I think the experience you had is probably the most important one yet. What if our species “humans” didn’t have a soul? Would we all love each other as much as we do? I think in order to truly love something; it has to have a soul.
DeleteAs far as schools mentioned in the book go, Cranbrook has always held a place in my heart. i've never been there but my heroes; Saarinen, Eames, Knoll, and more came from this environment. One of my favorite and most respected glass artists in the US, Richard Parrish, is a graduate of Cranbrook, and I'm just a little bit sure that all those fabulous artists souls have rubbed off on those who attend Cranbrook!
ReplyDeleteOne of my best friends has a MFA from RISD. He is a wonderful artist and said that the school was transforming for him.
when you talk about a soul to your work I agree, that for many years I only thought about techique, or some very superfial understanding about what some works of art meant. It wasn't until I began my grad work with TTU that I have truly started to understand what art is, and the best way to teach it.
DeleteSome of the best art lessons I have ever receive were given to me, by my now good friend, David Darby and his wife Teresa. It was 1983, and my husband and I were attending SFA State University in Nacogdoches, Texas. I could not help but notice a building located across from campus that was painted like a castle, and on further inspection discovered that it was a stained glass shop. At night I remember being transfixed by the brightly lit shop windows sparkling with glass in every imaginable shape, color, patterns and designs. It seemed magical, as its name implied, Glass Castles. Once I learned that they offered night classes, I quickly enrolled. Upon entering the shop it was filled with laughter, conversation, creativity, production, and fellowship, you felt that you were not just there for a class, but somehow became a part of an extended family. I was able to drop in and ask questions and advise, or just to visit. They encouraged and give free advice and information whenever I requested. I wanted to work more in a 3D capacity with glass so I began designing kaleidoscopes and beaded bags, I was encouraged and praised for my work, and they sold them in their shop, and in their booths at Renaissance and Scarbro Affair. They also taught me the business side of art, what my art was worth, the market where it would be most likely to sell, the costs of overhead and labor, and marketing. That craftsmanship was important, and that they would not sell any form of glass work that was not of the highest quality. I also learned from that the sacrifices one makes to live as an artist. So this was not just about the best art lesson I ever received, but the best lesson on how to live and work as an artist. The lessons that I have learned from these two remarkable artists is to encourage, give direction, to always teach technique in a hands on way, and that we are all are unique and different and learn in different ways.
ReplyDeleteFrom our readings I would have to say that I would like to attend Cranbrook Academy of Arts, as a graduate student. Its philosophies have withstood the test of time, and are still relevant today. What I would be most interested in would be the ceramics department. It is not considered just a school but a community of artists, where you are making art in your own studio, attending lectures, and is intent on developing you as an artists and a productive member of society. The grounds and architecture are beautiful, for the founder George Booth “wanted to create a place where art and design could be studied intensively, with a one-on-one relationship between student and teacher and a close and supportive community”. The school is small only 8 students per year are invited to work in each discipline. There is no faculty, only Artists-in-Residence. No curriculum or grades, for you study what you want with whom you want. I am very sensitive to my surroundings, for most of my work is nature inspired. With the smaller class sizes, and your own studio it would allow a greater advancement and depth to my work. My own space would also allow for an area that does not have to be set up and taken down, and my tools could be organized and stored in a way that best fits the way I work, and the large size and number of kilns within the new ceramics facility would hold few restrictions in production and size of works produced. The one drawback to the college is the costs, for it averages around $50,000 a year, but If we are dreaming I am sure that I would qualify for a full scholarship.
That was a big lesson you learned in every way. Very cool! I want to see the Glass Castle! It sounds just like a fairytale!
DeleteCranbrook appeals to me as well. It's so interesting to me that after learning about the school in our book I've been noticing it pop up in my world--other reading, people's stories/experiences, on the web. I agree that the price is daunting; but most private institutions come with high dollar tags. I suppose part of that comes from smaller classes (less tuition coming in) and no state dollars? Sigh, money can be a bummer. But I think going after what you want, despite the daunting hurdles, is important. :)
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