One of the great things about making art is the fact that it is largely a solo activity. It's an opportunity for quiet, self reflective thought, temporarily cut off from the normal day-to-day distractions of things like making a living and running a family. Working in the studio provides an increasingly rare oasis of solitude where you can be alone with your thoughts immersed in the process of reifying feelings, ideas and observations.
On the other hand, one of the worst things about making art is the fact that it is largely a solo activity. It's an activity that places you in abject isolation with your thoughts and cuts you off from the orientating effects of being in a group and seeing your work in relation to other work and other people. The studio can a scary place where wrestling with your limitations, deciding what to do, and finding your way through the infinite number of choices and decisions in the absence of a client brief or set of instructions can feel lonely and demoralising.
Both of these views are true at the same time. I know this because I've experienced both myself, and I hear these thoughts from my friends who are artists as well. From the outside, making art looks very romantic; made up of blissful days filled with the pleasures of working in a quite studio. But this is only one side of the experience. The other side consists of hours of isolation locked in battle with your innermost doubts about yourself and your abilities.
This sense of isolation and working in a vacuum, is, I believe, one of the main reasons why people don't make more art. The fear of being cut off from any kind of interaction with other people both during the making of the work, and more importantly, after the work is made, can overshadow the many enjoyable and positive aspects of art making and can stop the creative process in its tracks.
I think all artists in one way or another wrestle with these demons of doubt created by the inherently solo nature of the work. But my question is, why wrestle alone? If most artists struggle with these challenges to self-esteem and the sense of value for time spent in the studio, why struggle in isolation? Why not come together and form a network of critical / supportive collaborators?
Writers have developed a mechanism to address this challenge: the writers' group. A group of writers, each with their own reasons for writing, all at different levels of ability, come together to share their work, test ideas, receive feedback, and learn from each other. For some reason, writers seem to understand the power that emerges when a group of people engaged in their own personal creative struggle come together to challenge, support and encourage.
But where can an artist go for this kind of conversation? Classes? Workshops? The Internet?
On the other hand, one of the worst things about making art is the fact that it is largely a solo activity. It's an activity that places you in abject isolation with your thoughts and cuts you off from the orientating effects of being in a group and seeing your work in relation to other work and other people. The studio can a scary place where wrestling with your limitations, deciding what to do, and finding your way through the infinite number of choices and decisions in the absence of a client brief or set of instructions can feel lonely and demoralising.
Both of these views are true at the same time. I know this because I've experienced both myself, and I hear these thoughts from my friends who are artists as well. From the outside, making art looks very romantic; made up of blissful days filled with the pleasures of working in a quite studio. But this is only one side of the experience. The other side consists of hours of isolation locked in battle with your innermost doubts about yourself and your abilities.
This sense of isolation and working in a vacuum, is, I believe, one of the main reasons why people don't make more art. The fear of being cut off from any kind of interaction with other people both during the making of the work, and more importantly, after the work is made, can overshadow the many enjoyable and positive aspects of art making and can stop the creative process in its tracks.
I think all artists in one way or another wrestle with these demons of doubt created by the inherently solo nature of the work. But my question is, why wrestle alone? If most artists struggle with these challenges to self-esteem and the sense of value for time spent in the studio, why struggle in isolation? Why not come together and form a network of critical / supportive collaborators?
Writers have developed a mechanism to address this challenge: the writers' group. A group of writers, each with their own reasons for writing, all at different levels of ability, come together to share their work, test ideas, receive feedback, and learn from each other. For some reason, writers seem to understand the power that emerges when a group of people engaged in their own personal creative struggle come together to challenge, support and encourage.
But where can an artist go for this kind of conversation? Classes? Workshops? The Internet?
In the last year or so I've been to some life drawing classes here in London assuming that in addition to drawing, this would be a good opportunity to engage other artists in a dialogue about the work and how it is perceived. But this isn't the case at all. These classes are often just as quiet and isolated as working alone in my studio. Although I had fully expected to engage in a bit of discussion about the work, most of the time is spent in silence. Besides, the conversation, even if it did happen, would focus largely on the techniques employed in the drawings in the classroom, not on the work I am struggling with in my studio.
I've read about some really interesting and quite inspired workshops for artists and other creative-types. Although they sound like a lot of fun, the spirit of many of these sessions are about encouraging camaraderie, participation and enjoyment. The thing I think they often lack is any form of critical feedback or conversational depth in the pursuit of excellence.
I'm sure the internet has made a huge difference here. A quick trawl of blogs by other artists quickly surfaces sites where people show their work-in-progress to the entire world for comment and acknowledgement. I'm sure that the comments that people receive are helpful in providing an uplifting sense of energy for the artists. But the comments are simply that: comments. They are often one-line reactions to the work. Although potentially uplifting, these comments lack the depth and nuance that comes from a face-to-face conversation. Twitter is great, but it is no substitute for a full and proper dialogue.
So my question is, if the writers' group model works for writers, would it work for artists?
I think it could. Perhaps it works for writers because the medium of writing is language, and using language to talk about stories feels somehow natural. Fair enough. But I suspect that there are a lot of artists out there who would be great collaborators, co-conspirators, conversationalists, and critical friends. I'm thinking of artists who are doing independent work, not just wrestling with technique, but interested in how their work is connected to feelings and generates meaning. Artists who are looking for something more formal than a chat at the pub; interested in engaging in a constructive forum to talk in detail about their work and to offer their reactions to the work created by other artists. Artists not looking to be taught by a teacher, but interested in learning through the facilitated interaction with other artists who are engaged in the struggle for excellence.
Maybe the model I'm thinking of is the 'crit'. When I was at university studying printmaking, we had group crits (critiques) where everyone hung their work in an impromptu gallery set-up and talked about what was going on in the piece. When managed properly, these were rich discussions where everyone involved got something out of it - not just the people whose work was on display.
Sure, something like this would take time to settle in and find the right level. And yes, it would take some careful facilitation, and everyone involved would need to understand and adhere to the code of conduct agreed by the group. But I think it could work.
Watch this space.
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