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.
Showing posts with label That Stupid Book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label That Stupid Book. Show all posts
07 December 2010
02 December 2010
maybe I should Be A writer...
In Drawing III we're required to do a group presentation on a book: Trust the Process - An Artist's Guide to Letting Go by Shaun McNiff. I've tried reading the book several times but I either get frustrated with the author or I fall asleep. Luckily, I only have to present on one section of one chapter.
Here are some of my issues with this book:
McNiff boasts of being involved in all forms of art: writing, painting, drawing, music, dance and probably some other obscure ones that he made up. His love of art does not come from technical skill or craftsmanship, though. His art seems to depend more on the "spirit of creativity" or how it feels to create. It's about the spiritual and intellectual connection we make with ourselves and our world through creating.
Okay, fine. There are some artists out there who think this way. To a certain extent, I agree with them. Creation seems to be an innate part of human nature. Music, visual arts, and dance are all used in therapies for healing or meditation.
His book isn't about the nature of creation, though. It's about his own personal philosophies concerning art and creativity. As interesting as his concepts may be, it's hardly a "guide" to making me a better artist.
McNiff's very fond of using arbitrary phrases that mean nothing unless you can read his mind. Like the "spirit of creativity." What is that? He talks about it like it's a living entity that talks to him. We have medications for that. And this sentence: "...or can I step in and out of different ways of being the world?" What does that sentence even mean? There's only one way to "be in the world" - being alive! Is he referring to the different roles or stereotypes we may play in society? Is he talking about a mental state - a change of attitude that changes our perception of the world? Be specific. That's a #1 rule in writing: make sure your audience understands exactly what you mean. That's the purpose of writing a book, isn't it? To get an idea across to other people. If you're vague in your language, your idea will be lost, and then it's just a giant waste of paper.
Speaking of audience, at one point (page 58, if you really want to know) McNiff writes:
Secondly: he needs to decide who his audience is and then address them exclusively. He was talking to artists and then out of nowhere he pops these two paragraphs out to talk to the non-artists. He's written An Artist's Guide, so why would a non-artist be reading this book? If I were someone with "no experience in the arts," then this book is the last one I would venture to read because the title specifically states that it is for artists.
He still could have kept these two paragraphs in the book, they just need to be readdressed. Example: "Even someone who has no experience in the arts could be ripe for every possible opportunity. Think of aspects in your own life that are antithetical to art: these area may be most....blah blah blah." Now, McNiff, you're saying the same thing, while still talking to your audience.
Ta. Da.
Get an effing editor.
Moreover, I disagree with some fundamental theories in his philosophy. I think this is where most of our issues begin, McNiff and I, because he seems to assume that everyone will see his theories as true. Because of this assumption, he keeps making blanket statements without making effort to defend them or to persuade his audience. It comes across as arrogant and pretentious. None of his statements, thus far, have been universal truths (even though he persists in portraying them as such), nor in fact are they even cultural or societal truths. It's individual, but he seems to have convinced himself that after spending 50 years in art, he knows how everyone perceives and interacts with "the spirit of creativity."
See? Arrogant.
I liked his prologue: License to Create. That was great stuff. Since then, I haven't read anything but pseudo-philosophic drivel.
This, of course, is not what I'm going to say during my presentation (as much as I'd love to). I'll underline anything he says that I can agree with (a sentence here, a thought there) and then expand on those for 3-4 minutes.
See? Easy as pie. And then my instructor, who worships this book like a second Bible, will never know that I plan on stuffing it in a trash compactor as soon as the semester ends.
Here are some of my issues with this book:
McNiff boasts of being involved in all forms of art: writing, painting, drawing, music, dance and probably some other obscure ones that he made up. His love of art does not come from technical skill or craftsmanship, though. His art seems to depend more on the "spirit of creativity" or how it feels to create. It's about the spiritual and intellectual connection we make with ourselves and our world through creating.
Okay, fine. There are some artists out there who think this way. To a certain extent, I agree with them. Creation seems to be an innate part of human nature. Music, visual arts, and dance are all used in therapies for healing or meditation.
His book isn't about the nature of creation, though. It's about his own personal philosophies concerning art and creativity. As interesting as his concepts may be, it's hardly a "guide" to making me a better artist.
McNiff's very fond of using arbitrary phrases that mean nothing unless you can read his mind. Like the "spirit of creativity." What is that? He talks about it like it's a living entity that talks to him. We have medications for that. And this sentence: "...or can I step in and out of different ways of being the world?" What does that sentence even mean? There's only one way to "be in the world" - being alive! Is he referring to the different roles or stereotypes we may play in society? Is he talking about a mental state - a change of attitude that changes our perception of the world? Be specific. That's a #1 rule in writing: make sure your audience understands exactly what you mean. That's the purpose of writing a book, isn't it? To get an idea across to other people. If you're vague in your language, your idea will be lost, and then it's just a giant waste of paper.
Speaking of audience, at one point (page 58, if you really want to know) McNiff writes:
If you have no experience in the arts, you are ripe for every possible opportunity. What aspects of your life seem most antithetical to art? These areas may be most amenable to transformation because their creative potential has been obscured.First of all, do you see why I keep falling asleep? The language he uses is pretentious and cloudy. Rather than clarifying, which is what expanded vocabularies usually do for the reader, he's consistently vague. (and if it isn't vague to you, then I'm happy for you. But honestly, there's got to be a way of saying "now's the time to change your opinion of what "creative" means" without sounding so stuck on yourself)
Reflect upon people in your life that you and others saw as "creative." Did you view them according to stereotypic standards of creativity? Who are the people in your life that no one saw as creative? Can you apply another standard of creation to their lives and change your impression of them? Look at your own life and see if you can detect the creative spirit in your prosaic ways."
Secondly: he needs to decide who his audience is and then address them exclusively. He was talking to artists and then out of nowhere he pops these two paragraphs out to talk to the non-artists. He's written An Artist's Guide, so why would a non-artist be reading this book? If I were someone with "no experience in the arts," then this book is the last one I would venture to read because the title specifically states that it is for artists.
He still could have kept these two paragraphs in the book, they just need to be readdressed. Example: "Even someone who has no experience in the arts could be ripe for every possible opportunity. Think of aspects in your own life that are antithetical to art: these area may be most....blah blah blah." Now, McNiff, you're saying the same thing, while still talking to your audience.
Ta. Da.
Get an effing editor.
Moreover, I disagree with some fundamental theories in his philosophy. I think this is where most of our issues begin, McNiff and I, because he seems to assume that everyone will see his theories as true. Because of this assumption, he keeps making blanket statements without making effort to defend them or to persuade his audience. It comes across as arrogant and pretentious. None of his statements, thus far, have been universal truths (even though he persists in portraying them as such), nor in fact are they even cultural or societal truths. It's individual, but he seems to have convinced himself that after spending 50 years in art, he knows how everyone perceives and interacts with "the spirit of creativity."
See? Arrogant.
I liked his prologue: License to Create. That was great stuff. Since then, I haven't read anything but pseudo-philosophic drivel.
This, of course, is not what I'm going to say during my presentation (as much as I'd love to). I'll underline anything he says that I can agree with (a sentence here, a thought there) and then expand on those for 3-4 minutes.
See? Easy as pie. And then my instructor, who worships this book like a second Bible, will never know that I plan on stuffing it in a trash compactor as soon as the semester ends.
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