I miss My Integrity

Yesterday, I gave my (ridiculous) oral presentation on the (ridiculous) book I told you about.

It was so (can you guess??) ridiculous.

Eight other students gave presentations on different chapters of the book as well, and each one of them absolutely loved this book. One girl went so far to say that "this book is scripture. If you, you know, believe in art." (direct quote) It was physically draining to keep myself from rolling my eyes or laughing out loud at the sheer absurdity of my classmates.

Someone said, "Every sentence is so well written." (really? guess what: just because he uses big words that you don't understand, it's not automatically "well written." if you have to re-phrase every single idea in the book to make it comprehensible to the class, then it's not "well written.")

As the discussion in class continued, a confession came out (also, a direct quote): "I'm not very academic. Like, I don't really like reading and stuff. That's why, like, I lean more toward creativity and imagination and stuff." To which the teacher responded, "Yeah, me neither. I don't think of myself as very academic."

What the crap am I doing with this group of people!?!?

Here, we're presented with two possibilities: 1) I just hate the book because McNiff's message went over my head, or 2) If the rest of my class was academically minded, they would hold as much distaste for the book as I do.

I hated myself so much during that presentation. I heard myself saying arbitrary crap like, "It's about that connection with the material, from hand to paper, and the energy that results from the connection, that really drives creativity forward." I lied my way through all three minutes of my presentation. I recognized early on in the presentations that if I were to honestly speak my mind, I would quickly make enemies of everyone in the class.

Here's what I really think (for those of you who want to know): McNiff's ideas of "letting go" and "getting the creative juices flowing" are good ideas. These ideas really do work. In therapies. In children's classes. Not in college classes for art students who want to make a living off of their art. You need to teach technique and encourage practice, practice, practice.
McNiff's book might be a good tool for relaxing the imagination, which can result in better work, but without technique and training it's just mindless scribbles on a page. And maybe you feel good about the mindless scribbles on the page, maybe those scribbles represent something significant to you, the artist. But that significance is not going to be conveyed to anyone else, which defeats the purpose of art as a visual communication. McNiff's principles work on individual and therapeutic levels, but I'm not seeing how that will make me a better, more successful, artist.

One student said in class, building off of what McNiff had written, "As long as you feel good about what you've made, then what else matters? Who cares what other people think? It's your creation and you should feel good about it." Why are you paying thousands of dollars to a University to be taught to make art that makes you feel good? If all you need is to feel good about your art, then stay at home and scrapbook in your kitchen. Save yourself some money. I'm coming to school to learn how to make my art affect other people; I'm here to learn technique, principles, and tools that will make my art more effective; I'm here to learn skills that will enable me to make art a viable career. No doubt, it's good to feel pride in what you make and your abilities, but that is not the sole purpose.

Granted, I haven't read the whole book. Not that I plan to. It's unlikely I'll be able to make myself read more than I already have. Tomorrow, we'll hear the rest of the presentations and I'll know, basically, what the rest of the book is about.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the book becomes brilliant in the second half. Maybe McNiff is like an artist's prophet. *shrug* Maybe.

Our teacher also revealed to us yesterday that McNiff's approach to art will, from now on, outline how art is taught at our University. Thus, we see my conversion from the Fine Arts Department to the Illustration Department completed. Nail in the coffin, if you will.

It's all begun to feel so pointless.