Normally I focus my remarks on the painting process, but today I would like to take a moment and wax poetic on the subject of painting in a more general sense. I am mainly directing this to young aspiring artists who are trying to find themselves artistically. That journey can be a long one and involves discovering both how to paint and why we paint.
In many institutions over the past decades, concept has so eclipsed craft that the visual arts have become more about social commentary than beauty. For me and many others, the role of social commentary is fine for social commentators; but I’m not generally thrilled about art as social commentary. My question really comes down to, What are we artists trying to say with our work, and is the message more important than the execution? Some artists feel the need to use their creative output to make a statement that causes other people to think; this approach sometimes makes me wonder if there is a shortage of newspapers.
By now you are probably thinking that commentary in art always rubs me the wrong way. Not necessarily. For instance, I am reminded of the story of an alleged meeting between Pablo Picasso and Joseph Goebbels at the 1937 Exposition Internationale des Arts et Techniques dans la Vie Moderne, in Paris, where Picasso’s famous mural depicting the bombing of Guernica was on display. Legend has it that Goebbels walked up to the artist and asked if he was responsible for the painting. Picasso replied, “No, you are!” I don’t know if the anecdote is true, but I would like to think so, and would have loved to have been a fly on the wall that day.
Some years ago, while a student at a California college, I had the experience of observing (like a “fly on the wall”) an interesting exchange between a fellow student and our painting professor, who was a renowned artist in the local area. The student mentioned that he had recently seen one of the professor’s large paintings on display in a public building. While there, the student noticed a couple of older women who were shocked by the painting, which depicted a much distorted representation of a human form, dressed in a flamboyant costume. Hearing of the women’s reaction, our professor swooned in joyous ecstasy while exclaiming, “That’s the reason I paint!”
I really had to wonder if that was reason enough! Compared to Picasso, what was his message? Furthermore, what did his remark say about his love of art, the excitement of a well-placed brush stroke, the satisfaction of mastering the craft of painting, the sheer joy of expressing an emotion? Was his reason for painting really just about its shock value!
To be quite honest, when I viewed his paintings, I wasn’t struck so much by the content of his expression as by the lack of paint quality and handling of the medium. The whole thing became clear to me one day when he said that I was doing well in his class, but that I had to hasten the rate of my development as an artist. I couldn’t help but wonder how that concept worked? He said that I needed to speed up the process, because there was no time for learning, in the traditional way. I figured at that point he was referring to content over craft.
I don’t want to give the impression that this artist had nothing to offer as a teacher; he did, and I really liked the man on a personal level. Unlike some professors I’ve heard of, he gave me the space to paint what I was interested in, and he was generally supportive of my goals as an artist; I truly thank him for that. Nevertheless, after that experience I resolved to seek out an art education anywhere and everywhere that I could!
The Scottsdale Artists’ School and numerous other workshop venues, copious trips to museums and art galleries, along with mountains of books and tapes and associations with many good artists made up the bulk of my experience in gathering knowledge of painting thought and practice. I would never say that I was self-taught, because, as the saying goes, I would have had a poor instructor! Self-directed study is a more accurate description of what I went through in this quest to gain knowledge.
One very important thing I’ve learned over those years is that knowledge is not the sole property of institutions of higher learning. That is not to say that you can’t get some good training in some schools, but so much of what has been taught for many decades has been more concerned with content than craft. If that’s what you are experiencing in school, you might think about rounding out your education with some study on the side.
I know now that my art is an expression of what I love, what I feel, and who I am, coupled with a hard-won foundation in the craft of painting. I’ve learned that there are no artistic shortcuts, just lots of hard but rewarding work. Learning to paint well is a lifetime pursuit, just like learning to play an instrument, or any other discipline which requires mastery. Self-expression may be the goal, but self-discipline is the vehicle.
Social commentary in art is fine, if you have something important to say, but it’s not why most plein air painters paint. We could have chosen that, but chose instead to convey feelings and emotions about the land; perhaps that’s our commentary. It’s beauty that inspires us and has inspired many other artists — both living and dead — whom we admire. The beauty of how light affects various forms in the visual world, the beauty of expressing an emotional reaction to visual realities, through the manipulation of paint.
Having said this, I realize there are others whose painting goals are different, and that is perfectly okay. We can’t all be after the same thing; we are all free to make our own choices. Others are free to depict tragedy, hopelessness, satire, disrespect, or any number of human failings in their art. I figure we get enough of that on the 24-7 news cycle!
The great thing about Picasso and other artists of his generation was that they learned their craft first, and then went on to do what they wanted with it. Since those days, many aspiring artists have thought to bypass the craft, thinking that they could substitute raw emotion or commentary for quality. In music that would be the same as an untrained musician banging on the keyboard of a grand piano.
Whatever you decide your art will be about, I would encourage beginning artists to avoid the soapbox for a while and take the time to learn the fundamentals. There will always be a time and place for commentary.
What are your thoughts on this topic? Share them with us in the comments below.