Lecture at University of the Arts

 Hi, guys! Welcome to the most recent entry of this blog!

I have for you today the very first lecture I gave at a university! That was University of the Arts in Philadelphia!

We did the lecture over Zoom and here is the video, which includes a bit of a Q&A at the end. In this blog entry you can read the lecture I read for the attendees and also find a couple of additional links to things I suggest to read and listen to.

If you have any questions, comments or suggestions on future entries, please let me know in the comments or feel free to inbox me to my Instagram account here: @gabrielahandal

 

Also, a link to youtube, just in case the video embed doesn't work.

I. Introduction

In this lecture I am going to go over thoughts about inspiration, my process and learning experience, and some advice for artists.

This introduction is also a very short glossary exclusively to serve two terms I will use in this lecture:

1. Work: I vehemently refuse to refer to artworks, drawings, paintings and sculptures as "pieces", because although they are objects and arguably pieces of something, they are not simply objects and not simply a piece of something. The term is descended from the word "masterpiece", but I personally don't like the way the word "piece" feels in my mouth, and it feels like saying it reduces the work to a mere fraction of something when I consider a work as a self-contained and self-sustaining environment.

Suggested listening: Episode 28 of Art Grind Podcast with Marina Granger from The Artist Advisory

2. Beauty: Without going into the definition of this term because it would become its own lecture series, I refer to and mention it because it's important. For a while I was under the impression that beauty doesn't matter in art or that what we're trying to do is not even think about beauty when making work, but I rediscovered the term recently and have realized its meaning as a goal and the important role it plays in giving art value. Whatever the definition of beauty might be, try to learn what it is and strive for it in your own work.

Suggested reading: Roger Scruton's "Beauty: A very short introduction"

II. Inspiration

The perception I have of "inspiration" is some sort of mystical wave of feeling, a mood a person gets into where they're helplessly driven to make their drawing and because of said inspiration, said drawing also results in a beautiful work of art. This idea of inspiration reminds me of how love is portrayed in romantic novels and movies: as an inexplicable fire of intense infatuation that comes, wreaks havoc and then leaves for no apparent reason. It makes sense our ancestors repeatedly thought of inspiration and love as god entities which possessed us.

These views are unrealistic and misrepresentations of the truth. Making meaningful work and having a meaningful relationship require much more than a passing mood to make them happen and make them persist.

I personally don't think of inspiration as some mysterious, fleeting motivation to make work.

Sometimes I see something I want to study through drawing and I more or less think of this as a form of inspiration. Other times I have an idea I want to see with my own eyes instead of through my mind's eye, which is made possible through drawing because it places the idea onto a physical object, and I also consider this more or less a form of inspiration.

I want to draw the great majority of the time, whether to start a drawing or work on a drawing in progress. I would say if a person wants to be an artist in any capacity, then they effectively have to make the work. We forget how in the past good quality, beautiful objects took days, weeks, months and years of study and labor to make. We've been spoiled by a finished product simply showing up at our doorstep or on the smart phone screen.

When an individual makes work, they might go through moods when in some occasions they enjoy what they're making more than other times. Sometimes feeling extra good about oneself for whatever reason also provides confidence that spills onto the act of making work and the work itself. Likely one makes just as many mistakes as usual, but one doesn't mind because of the good mood. This coincidentally good mood might be what some people call "inspiration".

Making something is a goal. The individual has to work towards that goal and earn that goal. Being an artist is having the constant goal of making beautiful things.

But what is beautiful and how does one make it? This might be where it gets mystical, abstract and maybe even philosophical. Art and the elusive inspiration I muse about require researching, practicing, learning and thinking for long periods.

There is definitely such a thing as beauty that crosses time, place and individual. One gleans at what beauty might be by looking at as many things as possible, gathering this information and then comparing different aspects of their appearance and how they make one feel as a viewer until a hierarchy of beauty starts to form.

Through the acts of practice by making as much work as one can and observing as many works of art as possible, an artistic voice forms and one's own idea of what is a beautiful work of art also forms.

Beauty guides the making of a work of art, determining the artist's path and also keeping them honest. Once the artist's idea of beauty has formed through practice and research, this idea will be the standard against which they will make work and different aspects of the standard will influence the outcome. Making beautiful works of art requires honesty with oneself. For example, as I make a drawing I wonder "would I purhcase this drawing?" "Would I want to live with it?" If the answer to either of these questions is yes, then it's quite possible I consider what I'm making to be beautiful or, at the very least, on the path to becoming beautiful.

Having the consistent goal of making beautiful works of art and the discipline to draw regardless of mood will effectively result in meaningful action and results.

Perhaps to reconcile the romanticized idea of inspiration more with what it is in real life, Picasso's view of it fares well: "Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working".


III. Process

The drawing process is the best process and it's why I favor it so much. It really might be rather how my own way of drawing has developed.

My materials are generally pretty summarized and there's little to prepare and these are two of the reasons for which I think drawing is so great. The bare minimum you need is a pencil and a piece of paper, you can even do without the eraser. There's no need to prepare the surface of the paper, just put it on a table or any flat surface, the pencil doesn't even actually need to be sharp.

What I'm saying is for drawing, you can get away with very few tools and still draw. I have a personal issue with "prep" work as I have experienced it when I've painted. Whether it's adding more gesso to the canvas, getting tubes of paint, choosing the colors, then putting them on the palette, then I need all these brushes, then I need oil, then mixing colors (which is absolutely never ending and I specifically consider mixing colors to be incredibly distracting. I find mixing colors will distract me from mixing color itself, because I might have forgotten half way what color I wanted to mix to begin with while I am trying to mix said color. I do not like to stop painting in order to mix color because it feels like a constant interruption), then waiting and hoping for oil paint to dry or having to race against acrylic paint drying, then having to thoroughly wash each of those brushes covered in oil paint or I will effectively lose a brush, then cleaning the palette or having to let this pile of materials spill into my freezer to not waste them.
How does this pertain to my process? The previous tangent and rant is part of the collection of reasons for which I don't paint and practically deliberately refuse to paint.

Also, it seems as though I just have a huge bias in favor of monochromatic imagery. Proof of this for me is when an artist makes both drawings and paintings, I tend to strongly favor their drawings. There is something in the mark making and overall appearance I can't seem to enjoy as much in paintings.

The most summarized in terms of amount of tools I use for a drawing is ballpoint pen over paper, only two objects. I generally use ballpoint pen for sketch like work. These drawings are quick, they take a few hours at most, seldom more than a day. Depending on how I feel, drawing with ballpoint can be very careless as I can be with a charcoal or more similar to a carefully made graphite drawing.

I tend to think of ballpoint when I want to take a break from another drawing that's taking very long, to pass the time or to get in some drawing time if I haven't been able to draw for a while.

Then we have graphite and paper. For this I use one pencil over paper, occasionally I will use powdered graphite applied with a soft bristle brush. I don't actually use powdered graphite very often, and rather tend to go with the used brush for it's very light tone and I utilize these tools if there is any need for speed or I want to get quickly through certain parts of the drawing. Even more seldom for drawings with graphite are blending stumps, mostly for life drawing, but I don't care for blending stumps and the color with which they stain paper like that of grease from a finger.

I associate graphite with comfort, intimacy, proximity, softness, smoothness and precioussness. Indeed, I feel quite comfortable and confident with graphite, this is probably because drawing with it has been my go-to my whole life. It's the medium with which I've lived the longest. I would sit hunched over with my face very close to the paper, trying to draw small details. So effectively, my graphite drawings tend to be precious dioramas. They range in size between 3 x 3" - 16 x 20".

I have a comically stubborn habit of only using one type of pencil per drawing. For example, if I start a drawing with a 2B, I will not use another pencil during the making of the drawing. There's two reasons for this: 1. I don't need another pencil to make all the degrees of tone I want 2. I cringe at the thought of superimposing a less waxy, dark pencil over a very waxy, light pencil. More over, different grades of pencils even within the same brand have different colors and this is an unacceptable discrepancy.

Finally, there's charcoal and paper. Charcoal is the medium with which I am willing to invest the most time setting up and use the most tools to work. In this case I have charcoal pencils (which is plural, because I might go through one pencil quickly while making one drawing, but it generally is the same grade as the first one I used. Also, I specifically use pencils, not charcoal sticks or vine, but sometimes a charcoal chunk or chalk), several erasers (mechanical erasers of different diameters, kneading eraser, pink pearl eraser, staedtler and faber-castell erasers, which are the pencil shaped erasers), several cheap bristle brushes and blending stumps (which I don't actually use that much during a charcoal drawing, for the same reason as for graphite, plus they burnish the paper. And also, it seems as though the burnished area won't respond the same to more pencil on top or more powdered charcoal).

I got into charcoal drawing during school and I don't quite remember why, maybe a teacher asked for it for life drawing. Regardless, charcoal is the newest material for me and the one I'm least familiar with. I relate charcoal to bigger drawings, starting at around 16 x 20" and above.

Generally, I relate a sort of berserker kamikaze type feeling with making a charcoal drawing. There's something about the porosity of charcoal, its roughness to the touch, the lead crumbling as I make lines and the sand grain like feeling once it's put on the paper, which makes me think of sophomoric impetus, confidence in spite of fear or ignorance, hardheadedness in spite of any uncertainty, jumping in spite of any insecurity. Charcoal provides something graphite also obviously has, but I relate more to charcoal, where I am afraid of making the shapes wrong, but I know I can erase and draw again as many times as necessary or just start over again. In charcoal, I have "permission" to leave all the tracks I want (or pentimenti), and these marks of alleged regret actually end up taking part in a symphony of relationships I deeply enjoy.

A charcoal drawing is finished quickly compared to a graphite drawing with the assistance of the brushes and their ability to cover a larger area, while also being able to provide me with versatility in tone similar to what I would get with graphite.

More recently, I've incorporated into the charcoal drawings the "precious" tendency I have with graphite, which adds a more complex spectrum of tone, marks, textures and surfaces. There's a range of marks which go from making a line with my entire upper body to calibrating the softest possible touch with a combination of slight wrist and finger tip movements, and a distance range of several feet back to a few inches from my face. Being able to travel between these extremes during the making of a charcoal drawing is a profoundly fulfilling journey each time.


IV. Learning Experience

If I hiked along the same Nature path every day, each day there would be something different. It would be the same if I drew the same model in the same pose every day and this is the case with every drawing. Small changes in each iteration of something make it impossible to know what the next step, or even the first step, will be and having to find my way differently in every new drawing is humbling and exhilarating.

Every new drawing is a lesson in problem solving for each unique idea I want to solidify, so it feels as though I'm learning to draw with each drawing.

Whatever the reason, I don't seem to begin all drawings in the exact same way. I might do an envelope, an "action line" or a contour. I could probably argue some very valid reason for doing this, but getting started is urgent and overwhelming so having a specific method is secondary for me and I'm much more interested in just initiating, it doesn't matter how. Once I've kicked off I deal with things as they show up.

And effectively, in a way, it feels like each time I take the first step I'm doing so from scratch. In a way, I have no idea how I made any previously finished drawing.

With each new drawing, I make a shape and then continually attempt to make the shape more accurate through lines, volumes and tones. I want to convey what I am looking at, what I'm thinking of, what I'm looking for, figure out why it looks the way it does and attempt to explain it in the drawing.

The learning journey takes place while drawing, but also parallel to the act of drawing I look for references which corroborate the variability from one repetition of Nature to the next. Sometimes going into the field of artistic anatomy leads to the field of medical anatomy, sometimes I feel urges to write down thoughts. Learning and thinking about the theme of a drawing spreads into other fields and all these things populate the world within the picture plane.

Drawing isn't limited to researching subject matter, it also goes into learning about materials themselves. Through the use of different pencils and papers, I find which ones I favor in terms of their behavior, interaction and appearance.

I discovered the pleasure of shopping for paper for drawings in art school. Before, I limited myself to the same grocery store sketchpads, trying to use paper other people didn't want and didn't experiment much more. I'm not sure what about art school instigated me to make bigger drawings or try nicer papers, probably a teacher mentioned something about presentation, but I ended up with large sheets of very sturdy paper where I discovered how rough I could be in drawing. This also made me think of the act of drawing as a wrestling match between me and the drawing and I have to hold out longer in order to submit the drawing to my will.

Although I don't like the idea of a power struggle between an inanimate object and myself, this idea consequently led me to realize that I am actually in complete control and completely responsible for the end result in the drawing.

The human tendency is to want to blame any and all outside things, big or small. And really, it's not that the model moved, or the light changed, or the reference is not good enough or something about the pencil or paper. The artist dictates the outcome of the drawing by commission and omission.

In effect, drawing isn't limited to the act of making a drawing. Drawing consistenly teaches me the need for patience and focus, the value of time, it demands honesty of me, teaches me personal accountability and flexibility of mind.


V. Advice for an Artist

Each one of the points enumerated in this list is as much for anyone listening to this lecture as it is for myself.

I have found all of these helpful in some way. Writing these out and thinking about them was a great reminder for myself, so if I need to be reminded of something, someone else probably does, too.

If you choose to be in this for life, you have a lot of time to build something good, but it still requires a lot of effort, work and determination, and you have to constantly regulate how to invest your time.

Also, there is overlap between several of these, probably between all of them in some capacity. Things like showing work and participating; for example, bleed into each other, because like the systems within the body, everything is connected.

1. Get thick skin and practice: This extends into all subsequent advice in some way.

It doesn't matter if we're talking about getting rejected for a grant or a show, talking to the receptionist at a gallery and them telling you they're not looking for new artists, somebody giving you an "unwanted" opinion or what you perceive as negative criticism of your work; and really it also doesn't matter whether any form of alleged rejection is even art related. Make the effort to not take things personally and move on to the next thing which does pertain to your goals.

Getting thick skin and not taking things personally also takes practice, so the more this happens to you the more you can practice. One of the ways you can do this is instead of rationalizing why whomever was wrong in rejecting your work or having looping thoughts about what in your application caused the rejection, think instead about what the next thing you apply for will be.

Suggested reading: blog entry "Thoughts on Art Critiques"

2. Research: This also touches onto all subsequent advice in some way.

Looking for information on a subject is research, and so is trying different things for yourself, so this point covers both aspects of research through the experience of other people and your own accrued experience. Doing both types of research is very much worth it, because what one artist does might or might not work for another.

Remaining curious and experimenting is extremely important to finding things that work for you. Whatever method or ideas you currently hold, they are always subject to change. Moreover, it's no good to have one solitary method for something. Different things will work in different circumstances. It's good to have as many options to choose from as possible and they are found through research and experimentation.

3. Show the work: Whatever cocktail of social media and edifices you choose, make sure to consistently show your work. If you haven't been able to get into shows or galleries yet, post what you do on social media, get your friends to visit your studio, organize studio visits or critique groups or join the critique group your friend organized and visit their studio and talk about art and each other's work. If for whatever reason you haven't been able to post on your instagram feed, post to instagram stories or reels, snapchat or tiktok. Post anywhere, but show what you make.

This overlaps with research. Consider trying out different social media and sticking with the one you like best. Observe the behavior of different artists on social media and take note what sort of reaction they get.

Choosing a gallery to which you will submit work requires first knowing if what you make has anything in common with what the gallery shows. Head over to their website and see if they have anything regarding submissions guidelines. If they do, follow them; if not, email them asking what their guidelines are and find out what they say. If their website says they're currently not accepting submissions but you're still interested, bookmark the site and check back another time.

Also relating to galleries, if somebody says they're showing somewhere, visit the gallery's website and go over the previously mentioned things. It's also a great way to find places to which you can submit work.

Try different things yourself, but also see what the internet says about how to approach galleries or how instagram can work for an artist.

4. Apply for all the things: Getting into shows and galleries and obtaining grants requires applying to several of them before one of them will accept your work. The reason for this is irrelevant because you will still have to apply to many of them before getting one.

This overlaps with getting thick skin and practice. If you didn't get into one gallery, apply to another one; same with getting into a show, same with getting a grant. There are plenty of galleries, shows and grants to go around several times. Sometimes submissions are recurring, sometimes they're rolling, sometimes they're closed, sometimes you get invited, and sometimes you can still get rejected from a show to which you were invited to apply. You can try again next time or move on to another one. The more you apply to things, the more practice you get putting your applications together and you also get more practice caring less about rejection and moving on.

Set a goal of applying to one show a week, for example, and make the effort of sticking to it. Or if you have good organizational skills, make a calendar of things you're interested in and follow it.

This also overlaps with research. Where do you find open calls? At the New York Foundation for the Arts website, for example. There are Facebook groups, Instagram profiles and a subreddit for open calls.

There are open calls to suit every need: with a submission fee, a jury fee, a curation fee, a submission fee for a specific amount of entries, no submission fee for only one entry, no submission fee but with a hanging fee, no fees at all, no entry fees but with sales commission, with a submission fee and sales commission, different percentages of sales commission, open calls within your state, out of state, international calls, calls for shows about every theme you can think of. There's an open call for whatever tickles your fancy, and you find it by researching open calls.

5. Socialize, participate and communicate: If you want other individuals to show up for you in any way at all, then you have to do it for other individuals, too. This isn't necessarily as an equivalent exchange where you will expect the very same person to whose show you went to now be at your show. It might be in some vague way if you choose to be that sort of person, but for me it's much more about participating in the art world. I had classmates who complained about the school never showing their work, but then their studio was always closed off, they were never there, they didn't have work displayed on their walls, they didn't talk to anyone or all of the above. This pairing of their complaints with their behavior continues to make zero sense to me.

If you want stuff to happen, other individuals have to be aware of you and what you're doing.

This overlaps with showing the work, whether it's in galleries, social media or interacting with your own artist friends.

When you have a show, be it a group or a solo show, you want people in general to know about it. It doesn't matter what you're up to, post about it on social media, be at your opening, dress up, talk to people and thank them for being there.

Likewise, be at the opening of the artist whose work you like or your friend's show, and if you can't make it to the opening, go to the show while it's up and tell them it was lovely.

Many times a show will result from a group of artist friends wanting to show their own work, or somebody you know might be curating a show and they will invite you. Participate and socialize by helping to install or deinstall the exhibit and post about it.

A big part of what you should do on social media when you're using your allotted social media time effectively is commenting on people's posts and their stories. Don't whine about the algorithm being against you or passive-aggressively posting about how it's so easy for people to support artists by commenting on their posts and then you never comment on other people's posts yourself. The best way to use your time on social media after making your own posts consistently is commenting on posts of accounts you follow, replying to comments on your post, commenting on people's stories and replying to your direct messages.

This also overlaps with getting thick skin and practice. Sometimes one feels shy or lazy or whatever unnamed psychological state which prevents one from interacting with other people. Deliberately forcing yourself to socialize in spite of any psychological state makes your skin thicker and is practice to get better at socializing, communicating and generally being there for people who matter to you.

Sometimes social media posts don't perform as well as expected, but one has to continue posting. Sometimes not as many people show up to the opening, but we have to continue showing the work.

Tangentially related: An actually good article about the instagram algorithm

6. Stop being shy about pricing the work: Pricing work in the art world is difficult and chaotic by default because beauty is priceless. Many people including gallerists, dealers, collectors, teachers and artists claim there's a pricing pattern formed by at what point the artist is in their career, size of the work, how often they produce work, medium used and complexity of the work. Other methods of artwork price calculation which will elicit the same results include voodoo, learning whether we're in the age of aquarius or mercury retrograde, reading tea leaves, reading the entrails of your most recently slayed enemy or the entrails of your finest goat. There is no logic to pricing art.

Pricing one's art is another thing that requires getting thick skin and practice, in the sense you get used to just telling people how much the work is by doing it. A way to start practicing could be to write how much the work is in the caption of whatever social media. This way you don't have to tell anyone directly and the information is available for whomever is interested. The point is to start making it known that you absolutely charge for the work you make.

With practice in pricing your work you start to get a feel for what amounts you're personally comfortable charging, whether you're comfortable accepting installments, what payment methods you prefer, how you feel about negotiating and the general back and forth that takes place when a person is interested in purchasing art.

Forget about the idea of "I'm not ready to sell the work because I'm not good enough yet" or not selling something because it's "school homework". There is a buyer for every work of art and whether that person finds the work when you first made it or decades down the line doesn't matter. If somebody shows any interest in your work, get ready for the possibility of selling it.

This also overlaps with research. See how other artists price their work and at what price galleries sell work. Note how different artists display this information in their social media, studio and website.

7. Usage of time: Regardless of what sort of life you have, how you use your time is your responsibility. You might have three completely free hours every day, but if you spend them sitting in a puddle of anxiety because you were looking at social media instead of drawing or whatever else you should be doing, that is entirely your fault.

If you find yourself spending too long on social media, try different things and start making a concerted effort to reduce the time you spend on it to what is strictly necessary to promote your work. Try an "intermittent fasting" of social media and do not use your smart phone until noon; for example, or only look at your smart phone screen while standing.

This might be similar to wanting to draw for longer periods of time. Try drawing first thing in the morning for one hour every day and see how that makes you feel, then maybe increase it to two hours, or try drawing for two hours in the evening.

When talking about how to use time, one might start by first thinking of goals and priorities. One might want to work on a drawing, but maybe one also has to put together an application for a grant, do exercise and make lunch and dinner. The grant has a deadline, the drawing might not necessarily, exercise and making food must be done every day, so however time gets distributed during the day, all these things must be present.

Maybe one could dedicate two daily hours to the grant until the application is done or the deadline, two daily hours to the drawing, one hour of exercise and one hour for the preparation and consumption of each meal.

This overlaps with getting thick skin and practice. If the way you are currently using your time doesn't deliver the results you want, deliberately try to improve your use of time which will take a lot of practice and continuing to do everything in spite of frustrating and disheartening setbacks.

This also overlaps with research. Do research on how other people use their time and experiment with different methods. Ask your colleagues what they do with their time, read about other artists and find out how they manage their time. Maybe even not just artists, try to find out what Elon Musk does with his time.

8. Success and priorities: Do you REALLY want to get a solo show? Do you REALLY want gallery representation? Do you REALLY want 50k followers on instagram? There are certain things which mean success according to some nondescript collective of articles on some art magazines or art collectors or art teachers or artists.

This overlaps with research. How do you discover what you'd like for yourself and art career? You can start by finding out what other artists have under their belts, either reading their biographies or CVs and seeing what is interesting. Think about the events which are generally considered positive in an artist's career and which ones appeal most to you, then think about your artistic goals and notice if there's overlap between your goals and those events which are considered successful, and proceed to make your actions lead you to those goals.

Gallery representation, a solo show and 50k followers on instagram might definitely look like success and these are perfectly valid goals for an artist, but each individual decides for themself.

9. Make the work: You are not an artist unless you make work, so make the work.

This point of advice is last because all previous arguments have no reason to be without the existence of this one. The work you make is the center around which your artistic career revolves so it's crucial you prioritize and respect the making of your work. An artist's career doesn't ride on their charming personality, networking skills and social media presence, because those are merely vehicles which carry the work.

This overlaps with research. You investigate drawing by drawing. Each repetition, whether you're making a sketch or a "finished" drawing, is research into how to make beautiful objects. If you take drawing classes, make the effort to investigate the teacher's method in the controlled environment of their class. Making master copies is also a method of research, because as one makes the copy, one tries to understand what the artist's intent was and one also tries to divine how they solved their own problems.

This also overlaps with usage of time. If there's anything that's mandatory it's making the work, so one absolutely has to make time to produce work.

Depending on where you are in life, you might get longer or shorter periods of time to draw. This also depends on how long it takes to make one drawing, whether it can be made for a little while every day or for an entire day two days a week. Whatever suits each individual's needs, it's important time scheduled to make work is respected.

This also overlaps with getting thick skin and practice. Sometimes one has the alleged "bad drawing days" and whatever causes these days, it takes thick skin and practice to keep drawing in spite of the dip in confidence. Sometimes the schedule one made for the day or week is interrupted by an emergency and it takes thick skin and practice to try again tomorrow. Whether you continue to make work is your responsibility.


VI. Conclusion

We might have been sold the idea that being an artist means to drift through life probably drunk or starving, occasionally making something.

We might have been sold the idea that beauty and art are irrelevant and relative.

It doesn't matter what information you start with or what you think you know in the present, you can learn new information and produce your own ideas.

I don't actually know why the artist stereotype thoroughly pollutes every aspect of art. I don't know why art isn't thought of as a career composed by several fields of not just making things well, but also philosophy, business and marketing. The answer is of course the opposite of simple, but other than as a subject to muse about, I don't particularly care for the reason.

I personally care about doing everything I can to build a career with highlights that matter to me and produce art that fulfills me.

We are all perfectly capable of doing it.

Thoughts on Art Critiques

Welcome to the latest long-ish entry of the Art Talk and Other Stuff blog!

    If you have any questions or suggestions about this entry, previous entries, future entries, feel free to leave them in the comment section or inbox me on Instagram.

    With this entry I will follow up the dick line "If you don't like what somebody tells you during a critique, cry me a fucking river, bro" from the previous entry.

    Or maybe not necessarily dick line, but I'm aware it might come off as harsh or "insensitive".
I'd like to address the general negative emotion associated with art critiques, rather than thoroughly talk about the history of art criticism or go thoroughly into what an art critique even is.

    Let's start by defining what "critique" means, and also the word "criticism", because as I also mentioned "criticism" is what "critique" sounds like to me. They share the first five letters, after all, so I'm surely not making relationships out of my ass.

    Also, words are cool.

    And also, it really seems for a while now people ascribe whatever definition they want to a word to better conveniently accommodate their motives just because it sounds good or impactful, and I AM NOT FOR THAT.

    Talking/conversing through words is how we communicate and, at the very least, the definition of words must be somewhat standardized (or agreed upon at some point), precisely so we can understand each other and continue communicating. I'm sure you can make your point with the standard definition of words, and if you can't, whatever you're trying to make a point about perhaps needs to be revised, or just find other words.

    Surely, you can immediately think of at least one example. I sure as bears shit in the woods can: any variation of "silence is violence". gtfo bro.

    Moreover, I am up to my left fucking tit of slogans. You know who else used contradicting, manipulative slogans with deliberately misleading terminology? Big Brother, from George Orwell's book "1984".
    "Freedom is slavery"
    "War is peace"
    "Ignorance is strength".
    Hard pass.

    And one more thing: the word "slogan" is made up by "sluagh"  and "ghairm".
    - "Sluagh" is Scottish Gaelic for "horde, crowd".
    - "Ghairm" is Old Irish for "shout or cry".

    "Cry of the horde"? No, thanks.
    I learned this from an old as hell Jordan B. Peterson lecture (here is the entire lecture series linked, because it's really quite interesting and worth listening to he says it in the last episode) and then confirmed it by looking it up, I linked each segment of the word to its definition in case you are skeptical, which you goddamn right should be about everything.

    Now that I rode that tangent like Lady Godiva on a horse through the streets of Coventry, let's get to the definition of some words, and ramble on to how they might pertain to art critiques.

    Definition for "critique" from dictionary.com:

"- an article or essay criticizing a literary or other work; detailed evaluation; review."

    Definition for "criticism" from dictionary.com:

"- the act of passing judgment as to the merits of anything.

- the act of passing severe judgment; censure; faultfinding.

- the act or art of analyzing and evaluating or judging the quality of a literary or artistic work, musical performance, art exhibit, dramatic production, etc."

    From these definitions, it seems as though both are rather a thorough analysis of something, and through analysis, it makes sense one would find faults, if there are any. It also seems some background knowledge is necessary or at the very least helpful.
    If you're going to write a whole ass essay, or if you're going to break something down in order to study it, one first would have to already carry some foundational information to compare with or do some research to have a reference point.
    As far as a standard of quality, I would say it forms for the person based on the foundational information and enough research on a subject.

    So just like anything can be art (thanks for that, Marcel Duchamp), it seems fair anyone can give an art critique and anything can be art criticism. Although here might be where the threshold of art conversation versus art criticism is, because I am of the opinion anyone can appreciate art and talk about it, no need for any sort of art study or art history knowledge; however, the person who knows about art history, teaches art, makes art themselves, or all of those together, has all that additional information pertaining to the subject. Depending on the situation, the latter's opinion on an artwork might be considered more valuable.

    From here on out, this will be mostly based on my opinion and personal experience, so you know.

1. Whatever you think or feel during an art critique, remember the person giving the critique is biased, and so are you

During an art critique what generally happens is one person (teacher, art critic, fellow artist, gallery owner, art dealer) tells an artist what they think about their work, a single artwork or a body of work, and why.
    An art critique can also come in the form of an essay published somewhere and not necessarily directed to the artist, even if they are effectively talking about a specific artist's artwork, but it's rather for a reading public.
    This art criticism can range from philosophical questions of what even is art to begin with, to a thoughtful description of the work, or an analysis of techniques used to make the artwork (colors used or marks made with brush/pencil), composition and the like, or all of the above.

    So far it sounds like art criticism is straightforward enough and has a semblance of objectivity, the way a scientific claim can be filtered through being tested by different scientists and different types of tests to see if they all result in the same thing.
    This is but a fantasy in the context of art and art criticism, because art is basically synonym with "subjective", and I personally consider all art criticism to be heavily influenced by the biases and personal taste of the person giving the critique. I'm gonna mention biases a lot, because they're important.

    Art criticism is in large part influenced by personal taste (again, this is based on my own very strong impression), this must always be kept in mind by the person giving the critique and the person receiving it, who also has their own personal taste and biases.
    I remember a comment by Professor Kurt Kauper during the critique of a collage, in which he mentions his own bias towards collage, because he has a very specific impression of why a collage comes to be. I'm not paraphrasing or quoting, it's just what I vaguely remember of the comment, not trying to put words in the guy's mouth, but his awareness really stuck with me as very sincere and important.
    I personally find the awareness of biases extremely valuable, because if you are the one giving a critique, you can choose to try to view the artwork without said bias or mention it to the person receiving the critique of it and permeate the atmosphere with this self-cognition.
    It might also help soften the absolute feeling and intimidation which may come with the authority insinuated by receiving a critique from someone with more experience, or a teacher, or someone whose work one likes a lot.
    And listen, I'm not necessarily about making an art critique as soft as possible or less intimidating or scary or uncomfortable or even awareness or removal of biases; what I want is try to remove the negativity associated with critiques and just have all parties involved remember they are all regular humans.

    (Awareness of biases is still important, as they form how one thinks about something, one's opinions on things, etc.. I know in my case, it has made my life much easier when I keep whatever biases in mind, it doesn't matter if they're physical, like being female, or some childhood thing.
    One big example for me, is not liking a person whatever the reason vs not liking what they do. Being aware of the bias against them is extremely helpful for trying to view their actions minus my bias.
Not liking a person =/= them being wrong, for example.
    And of course, once one catches these biases, they can be worked on, modified, and removed depending if they're a dumb and potentially intrusive bias, like a bias against a country or a group of people.)

    I have big doubts art can be seen with an objective lens, precisely because of the influence of one's own tastes and biases, but this is also exactly what seasons every person's thoughts on art with their own flavor and makes their critique interesting.

    Even if a person is judging the quality of an artwork based on a type of composition, they still might personally prefer a specific sort of composition. Or if they're judging based on color palettes, they might favor a specific selection of colors.
    Or if they're talking about an art movement, they might seriously like one specific artist of the time and the one artist is their measure against which they compare artworks.

    Some examples where one might be able to argue for objectivity in analyzing art are perhaps accuracy of representation (I'd say this is more or less what the atelier and maybe hyper-realist types aim for), and perspective (which seems to have actual rules in terms of making the illusion of depth on a flat surface).
    If you happen to find yourself receiving a critique from a person who knows about this stuff, probably pick the hell outta their brain if possible and listen super hard.

2. Why have art critiques? Why deliberately subject oneself to discomfort?

Sometime in my second year at New York Academy of Art I scheduled a critique with a teacher I don't like ("don't" is in the present tense, because I continue to not like them, but if you remember from the previous entry, I had critiques with everyone I could both years), and the person's feedback helped steer my work into the drawings I ended up making for my thesis, basically because they "didn't see" whatever it was I explained about the work at the time.

    Listening to art critiques of people who like and dislike one's work in the microcosm of art school tempers one for navigating the difficulties of the art world.
    From "micro" to "macro", in art school something like "I don't see the themes you explain conveyed in this drawing", in the art world becomes a rejection letter to the application for a grant or just no reply at all from a gallery you sent work to even though you followed the submission guidelines on their website and you personally think your work would be a lovely fit in their space.
    (btw galleries or anything one applies for have no reason to reply unless they accept one's application. Let's not pretend to care for the reason of rejection, this has always sounded to me like butthurtedness at the rejection itself.)

    A critique doesn't lend itself to be like a conversation basically by definition, meaning it's more like a monologue where the person giving the critique will do all or most of the talking and you may or may not agree, you may not have time to reply or ask more questions because they have to move on to the next student/artist (this is based on how critique day is at NYAA, where professors give each student about a quarter of an hour and they have a list of several students to visit and give critiques to) or it might be an article about your work, where the back and forth of a conversation is physically impossible.

    A critique in any form doesn't immediately have to be taken to heart in any capacity or, frankly, it needn't ever be taken seriously to the point where one changes the work to what whomever has said. I would suggest to let the critique simmer and do other things, think about what you were told.
    When one receives critiques, I would say one must evaluate what exactly is the value of the critique as it pertains to one's work and artistic goals and determine the importance/relevance of the critique based on them.
    How does one value the person who gave the critique? Does one value their work? Does one even value their opinion? Does one find what they said relevant to one's goals? Did one even understand everything they said and what they meant, or most of it or some of it? Does one dislike the person but their critique actually resounded as interesting and valuable?
    Picture all of these questions as a board of knobs and buttons, like an airplane's dashboard, and the answer to each question is what calibrates the importance of the critique.
    This is oversimplified, of course.

    All the variables and biases brought by the person giving the critique crash into the variables and biases of the person receiving the critique, this merge is infinitely more complex and nuanced than an airplane's dashboard.

    However, if you hate what a professor or anyone told you, sit with their words and figure out why you've become upset before even thinking about the contents of the critique. The point of this being to not let anger pollute what could actually be very helpful feedback.
    Trying to understand why you got upset will be extremely helpful for this specific instance and future ones, and try to do so being VERY aware of your biases.
    Try to view the words without the tone, for example, which is perhaps what actually irritated you, try doing it even without the person, who you simply may not like because you perceive them as uppity.
Did they come off as inconsiderate? Inconsiderate insinuates intention, and it might be you who is ascribing this intention, rather than discerning it's probably your own perception.
    Make an effort to wait for when you're not irate anymore to think about the critique again.

    Trying to see from the point of view of someone you dislike or disagree with doesn't mean liking them or agreeing with them, and neither does trying to understand the point of view itself (those are all  different things), but doing the mental exercise of playing devil's advocate is a very productive and fulfilling practice.
    In the context of art, it's extremely helpful, not to mention extremely interesting, to understand why different viewers see what they see.

    An art critique is a learning experience, an exercise in thinking about something for a while, and we need as many different learning experiences as possible along with focused thinking; as opposed to being constantly coddled with safety and not having to focus on anything for longer than a few seconds (for example, cuts in videos or the amount of time it takes to scroll to the next post.)
    Unlike currently implied by our tense atmosphere, we must have uncomfortable conversations, feel uncomfortable things, and be willing to listen to another person and mull over their point of view.

    Receiving an art critique is also part of "things are happening in your brain when you input information and do stuff". The "input" is the critique and the "do stuff" is sitting and thinking about it.

    I've had a handful of colleagues tell me a specific line from a critique which stuck with them throughout the years, this line really stung and it tarnishes their overall view of the person who said the line and it sort of becomes everything the person is.
    I sure as shit did not tell them "cry me a fucking river, bro", but they clearly were unable to let it go, because sometimes things just hurt.
    One isn't supposed to like or enjoy rejection or negative criticism, one must rather become better at handling it.

    However, let's talk a little about bad critiques, because such a thing also exists.
    I personally consider things along the line of "this is bad and you shouldn't be painting/drawing" to be an embarrassingly lazy critique. As in, I'm embarrassed a fellow human is *that* lazy.
    These sound to me like a cop-out instead of making the effort of thinking and explaining why the work is lacking in the person's opinion.

    Even if I don't think critiques should be softened, one should make an effort to back up one's statements.
    This type of shitty critique is kind of like going to the doctor and one is in a very vulnerable position as a patient, because of incontinence and one is scared and the doctor is supposed to know a ton, and the doctor says something  like "you have a weak pelvic floor" or some shit and it's like great, I will just have incontinence for the rest of my life.
    There is a whole school of thought which says using certain terminology causes a chain reaction in how the patient will heal and see themselves. It's called a nocebo effect, and "nocebo" is probably the dumbest word on earth, but look it up for kicks.
    Also for kicks, here is an article from Harvard Health Publishing about it - Link
    Similarly to "you shouldn't be drawing/painting", "you have a weak pelvic floor" is a lazy cop-out instead of trying to figure out why the person has incontinence (incontinence is a symptom of something, so is the allegedly "weak" pelvic floor.)

    Giving/receiving an art critique is obviously different from going to the doctor, this sort of critique has no reason to become a terrible chain reaction in which the student/artist effectively stops making art, I mean have a backbone for crying out loud.
    If it was me receiving a critique like this, I would discard it as just not worth thinking about, because the person giving the critique gave me zero reasons to even consider.

    If you ever find yourself giving a critique, try at the very least to do be helpful and constructive.

    EVEN THEN, FURTHERMORE, STILL, AND MORE SO.
    Receiving a critique one feels like shit about is perfectly within the densely rich spectrum of experience, which as a whole is still edifying.
    To reiterate, I am only interested in removing the foreboding negativity associated with critiques. Even if one perceives them as scary and intimidating, one can still be excited and curious.

    Willingly subjecting oneself to discomfort has very positive outcomes, for one, getting through it is already an achievement.
    Second, now one knows how it feels, this is more information and more information is good.

    Why receive art critiques and deliberately subject oneself to discomfort? Because the art world and life in general are difficult, and they shouldn't suddenly become easy for any one individual or even a handful of individuals.
    We must all try to rather be equipped to deal with all ranges of experiences, and we do so by experiencing as much as we can at least once.

3. How did this whole thing start and why do critiques feel like such a big deal? Is there an actual reason in this day and age for a critique to feel  like it can make or break an artist's career?

I feel as though the perceived importance and weight of a critique comes in large part from the long history of art critics influencing an artist's career (not actually *long* in the context of history, but go with it). This public consciousness drags on from the 1700s, the French Salon even though many contemporary artists probably give zero shits about the French Salon and many others don't even know it existed.
    At the time, however, the art world and artists were very different.

    Before art as we know it now and the French Salon, and take this bit as a very informal and neglectfully told historical interlude, artists made "personal" work so other people could see it and then commission work. If the artist scored a commission with a rich or popular person, it had the potential of fueling the rest of their career. This is of course still applicable for artists in a way, but it is entirely optional to strictly stick to commissioned work.
    For the French Salon, a popular art critic loving an artist's work them being vocal about it could make their art career. Conversely, collectors were people who could afford the luxury of purchasing works of art. Said collectors would buy art and they would have their status fed, but if an art critic thought an artist's work was shit and was also vocal about it, nobody would buy said artist's work and the people who already got some of their work would be like "wtf bro my status".
    This very thing happened with John Ruskin and Whistler who weren't necessarily in the French Salon scene but it's an example of a critique being vital to an artist's career. It seems sort of comical now, but it was a huge deal at the time. Read about it here.

     Lately, I can think of maybe one art critic, two at most, and I personally have little interest in any art work they talk about or even their thoughts in general about art, although I might have read some of their articles.
    I have big doubts whether any art publication or an article by any art critic currently would have the capability of making or breaking any artist's career, specially with social media and online platforms for selling one's work directly out of the studio.

    The rules are different, and with the existence of the internet, lots of new things simply have no regulation yet. The art world is a chaotic, fetid, unregulated cesspool and that's exactly how I like it.

    Back to critiques: I feel as though what matters to me during a critique is first curated by my personal goals with a body of work or a single drawing. What the person giving the critique says may be completely unrelated to what I'm trying to achieve with the work, in which case their critique may go on to a second plane.

    Critiques are also something one must practice at receiving in order to polish how one deals with them, so what is that? Yet another reason to receive critiques of all sorts? Fuck, yes.

    For some generalized information on what is art criticism and its history which I barely got into, here are two articles I enjoyed reading:
    1. Britannica. I liked this one a lot.
    2. Wikipedia

    Thank you so very much for reading! Do not hesitate to tell me your thoughts or questions regarding this entry, also if you have suggestions for future entries, let me know, in the comment section or inbox me on instagram. See you next time! 

New York Academy of Art: Before, during and after

This will be a long, meandering blog entry. I AM NOT JOKING OR KIDDING.
I intend to walk you through finding the New York Academy of Art (sort of, I don't remember really that well), my experience taking their MFA, and more or less what has happened since graduating in 2015.

If you have any further questions, feel free to leave them in the comments of this entry.
If you have suggestions about future entries, please also leave them in the comments of this entry or inbox me on instagram.

1. Finding the New York Academy of Art

Before finding this school, all I knew was I wanted a Master's degree pertaining to art, and my first internet searches were really just "master of fine arts" and other simple shit I don't remember.
I do remember, however, finding a lot of things I had zero interest in, which is also important when you're looking for something.

So based on what I found at first, I discovered I didn't want schools where the art programs were just about art criticism, art theory, stritcly conceptual art.

Afterwards, I somehow stumbled upon degrees in scientific illustration. I'm not sure if I specifically narrowed down my searches or if just came upon them with the same "master of fine arts" search.
I remember finding John Hopkins had a degree in scientific illustration that was extremely tempting and interesting, and was actually kind of decided on this school for a bit, but I realized I didn't want scientific illustration to be my career.
This find was too in favor of medical anatomy in the pendulum, not enough "art".

I don't actually remember how I stumbled upon NYAA, but I remember finding it after the John Hopkins candidate, and that was it for me.
So for me personally, I really just wanted to draw more, study the body and anatomy, and was very ok with the hands on/theory ratio I got from their curriculum.

It's important when you are looking for where to study in any capacity, for you to figure out what you want. However you discover it, make an effort to figure this out.

Schools have a lot of information available on their websites. They have the degrees offered, classes, costs and fees, class descriptions, scholarships, financial aid, who are their teachers, links to the teachers' websites, description of the school's mission, application information.
If you're too good to futz around with a website, or if you're not convinced by the website, or can't seem to find something, write them an email with your questions.
Just fiddle around on their website and read. This is part of your research.

I had classmates who clearly had no interest in figure drawing or anatomy or really anything NYAA has to offer and I never could figure out why the fuck they were paying so much money to be somewhere they didn't want to. Not only were they paying a lot of money, they were also openly complaining about all the defects the curriculum had, as if they went into it not knowing what they were going to get and the surprise was spaghetti with shit on it (This is a Pablo Francisco reference from his Bits and Pieces stand up).
Even if it was just for the name or reputation of the school, Yale and Harvard are much bigger names with much stronger reputations where they could have gone for an art degree.
Maybe you can tell me your own hypothesis in the comments.

Anyway, it seems every class has this sort of people, and I will absolutely whine about them every chance I get.

NYAA has Open Houses, which also offer portfolio reviews (in these portfolio reviews, a faculty member looks at your portfolio and lets you know if applying to the school is a good idea), there's Open Studios which are open to the public (will talk a bit about this in the following section), and you can always schedule a tour for yourself. This can also be part of your research, specially if you want to see things with your own eyes, if you're close, if you can afford to visit.

tl;dr Figure out what you want and then do a lot of research.


2. My own experience with NYAA's MFA
Be ready, this part is extra long and meandering af.

- The exploratory and changing process/first and second year/critiques
For me, NYAA was an absolute oasis.
Drawing from life, studying the human body (the ecorche classes and anatomy classes are you freaking kidding me), and some art history. That was exactly what I figured out I wanted from my research.

I wanted to draw, study the body more, learn artistic anatomy, and at this point basically whatever else this school wanted to throw at me, I fucking wanted it. I felt incredibly grateful I'd been admitted, so I wanted to take advantage and enjoy everything.

Even the classes I disliked, and there was one every semester because that's how life is, taught me something I still remember five years after graduating.

NYAA offers a studio for their students both years of the MFA.
The first year, you share your studio with fellow first years, and in the second year, you get your own studio.
And the building itself, the ecosystem within the building, is bustling with an atmosphere of just making shit.
Being there, with new classmates making their stuff, the second years making their stuff, everybody decorating their studios with whatever work they want to show off, everyone accumulating assignments, ongoing ecorches, ongoign projects, seeing the work change in a period of two years, it is straight up creative FUEL being thrown at the voracious, demanding fire within all the participants.

When I first started at NYAA, I was still quite scattered. The entire first year, really, I was still painting on and off, doing collages, trying to recycle/reuse all paper. Also applicable to subject matter: all I had were these women with neutral facial expressions, kinda gothy dark stuff, parts of faces (isolated, floating eyes and mouths).
Unbeknownst to me, however, during the first year I was slowly being tempered by assignments and reading material.
And not in any bad way at all, lots of times people think you go to a school to be told what to do, and this might be applicable to very many schools and teachers, but I didn't feel it in any way. I never felt like my personal work had to be molded to what I was being taught in classes.

And if you need to be told, ***********your personal work doesn't have to be molded to what you are being taught in any class************ Class work and assignments =/= personal work.
What we learn in a class or workshop becomes a tool in our toolbox of skill.
I suppose what I mean with "being tempered" is I was being helped to find my way and just learn what I wanted to learn.
For example, the Cast Drawing class (which is mandatory for Drawing majors and damn well should) during the first semester, all things about relationships and measuring went right over my head. Only months later when I noticed my internal dialogue going on about "this is below this, etc", did I realize I finally understood what the teacher (Roberto Osti, a human marshmallow who draws like an angel) was talking about.

I'm just saying with this digressing wall of text: things are happening in your brain when you input information and do stuff.

I don't want to go into a whole ass stream of consciousness to specifically recount how my work changed and rather will stick to my experience during the MFA, but if you're curious about the work itself changing, I suggest scrolling back on my instagram feed. Link to my instagram account.

The second year is where students form and present their thesis work, and wow that still sounds scary, ominous, and overwhelming. HOWEVER, the first year I more or less learned to talk about my work and art in general and explored different themes, played with new materials, so I felt ready to start focusing on specific subject matter and talk about it.

Midterm critiques are for the purpose of showing what one is working on, generally. These happen towards the end of the third semester.
During final critiques, one shows the conclusion. These happen at the end of the fourth and last semester.
And listen, these are very lose terms, specially the midterms. There's nothing in particular you're *supposed* to do, except show you are putting in work, are interested, and talk about it.
I personally have mixed feelings about the word "critique", because it sounds so much like "criticism", and "criticism" is inaccurate and makes the situation seem unnecessarily intimidating.
It's a conversation about what you've been working on, where people who know a lot about art with A LOT of artistic experience tell you what they think about your presentation.

Each critique is 10 minutes (I don't actually remember how long they are) and the student gets to open with their own *short* introduction to the work, or you can start with a question, you can say what you are trying to do with the work and directly ask the faculty if your intention is coming through, you can just ask what do they see without providing your own intention/explanation if you'd rather they are unbiased by your explanation.
These are just some examples of many, many possibilities.
My own midterm critique was just terrible, I was extremely nervous and I cried when it was over because I was so nervous and had the impression the critique itself was negative, and just now looking for the video, it seems as though I actually had tiny paintings up there. I haven't watched my critique and it's unlikely I will, but this is just one example of how a midterm critique can go: Link to my own midterm critique
You can also watch many other critiques and lectures in NYAA's Vimeo page. Link to NYAA's Vimeo page.

For the second year, students get a faculty member as an advisor. Students say who they want in a form and then assignments are in a first come first serve basis.
You can get a different advisor each semester, or keep the same one for the fourth semester, depending on the first come first serve basis thing.

My advisor was Wade Schuman, who I didn't have classes with and sort of "ended up" with as an advisor because the teacher I originally wanted had reached his cap of students.
Wade, however, so pleasantly surprised me repeatedly in the third semester, I kept him as an advisor for the last semester.
Effectively, with our group and private critiques, my thesis work is something I am extremely proud of, it was fulfilling in very many levels, not just the resulting drawings.
I most definitely could not have done it without my advisor. Thank you so very much, Wade <3

Both years, I had private studio critiques with all the teachers. Even the first semester.
I made it a point to have a critique with all teachers, because I wanted them to see me and so I could also see them, talk to them and interact with them. This also worked really well as information to help me pick teachers for future classes, and also just to talk with people of differing points of view.
Don't use the excuse of "I have nothing to show", because it isn't entirely the point of a critique. Again, the point is to have a conversation with somebody who knows more than you and/or knows different stuff from you.
Also, if you don't like what somebody tells you during a critique, cry me a fucking river, bro.

- School art events and shows
There are art events constantly going on at NYAA. A few of them are organized by students (there was a student committee which put together student art shows when I was doing the MFA, I don't know if it still exists), others are organized by the faculty and staff.
There's shows going on in the Cast Hall/Wilkinson Hall and shows going on in the studio floors.
The work hanging in the building is by students the great majority of the time, and occasionally it's by "outside" people, alumni, and faculty.

(And a parenthesis here to mention if you attend NYAA in any capacity, MFA, CFA or SURP, you are part of/immersed in an ongoing art exhibition, because that is also what the studios are.)

For a few of the NYAA organized art shows, open call email blasts are sent (like Take Home A Nude and Tribeca Ball), other times faculty will go around the studios picking work to show.

For the student organized shows, they might just ask their classmates.
When that committee I mentioned was in the middle of mounting an exhibition, I approached them and asked what they were doing, they told me they were putting up a show, and I asked how could I be in one of those. Afterwards, I was effectively in a couple of shows they organized and I helped with mounting the shows.

In both cases, you should most definitely apply for things, apply for all the things you're interested in (whether an MFA, art exhibit, scholarship, grant, residency), and follow the application instructions for the love of Christ.
Also in all cases, if you missed an email blast, whatever it is, just ask.

I'm insisting on asking, talking and communicating (and it's almost the point of everything, maybe? >_>) because you can't sit around in your studio with a closed curtain, not talking to anyone, and then whine about how you're not in any Academy shows and act like it's the school's fault.
We are part of a community.
Perhaps, I am extra mega grateful, because I'd come form Panama and didn't know *ANYONE* in New York, except the people of this school, so a community formed around me all by itself. I made a concerted effort to interact with people, participate in things, and be supportive.
I particularly enjoyed walking around the studios during my breaks to look at my classmates' work and if they were there, chit chat with them about what they were up to. Support comes in different forms.

Back to being part of an ongoing art exhibition.
NYAA has Tribeca Ball and Open Studios, which are different versions of the same thing, and their purpose is to highlight the students currently doing the MFA.

Tribeca Ball is a super fancy, fun, dress up sort of open studio for which attendants buy tickets. There is a theme around which the building is decorated inside and out, and students spruce up their own studios however they want.
I remember the build up to this event in my first year to have been extremely stressful, I became very emotionally sensitive and got diarrhea ok.
I do wonder where the perception of pressure came from, because NYAA staff was very supportive and I was never told I absolutely *had* to do anything in particular. Rather I was told I could dress up if I wanted to, but plenty of times students just dressed with their studio clothes and made work during Tribeca Ball and others just set up their studio however they wanted and didn't show up, or didn't even set up their studio and also didn't show up.
Either way, like everything else, there is a lot of flexibility and wiggle room.

Open Studios is open to the public, and it's a "casual" version of open studio, it happens about a week after Tribeca Ball.
The same thing applies in terms of dressing yourself and your studio decoration, it's entirely up to you. In my case, I left my studio mostly the same for Open Studios after Tribeca Ball both years, because it looked so orderly and pretty.

- Residencies and awards
When my turn for residencies came at the end of the first year, my class was sent an email asking if we wanted to be considered for any residency in particular. I don't know if this is how it's done still, but I replied to this email by saying I didn't want anything that required paying, because I couldn't afford plane tickets or any sort of food and board, besides that in NYC (and of course, if I was going to travel, I would still have NYC rent to pay).
As a result, I didn't get any residencies. Or maybe I wouldn't have gotten one regardless. Who knows?
At the end of the second year, second years are also considered for a few residencies, we didn't get an email asking if we wanted to be considered for anything, but I also didn't get shit because that is how life is.

To be frank, however, that first summer I also kind of didn't want to go anywhere. I'd never lived anywhere except Panama, least of all freaking New York City, are you kidding me? So I sort of wanted to be in the city for summer and experience it.
This is very amusing now, because I actually just spent the summer at NYAA making stuff (I took this time to explore two subjects I was interested in as possible thesis themes) and only stopped going in August when the building was closed and I finally had no choice.

In the second year, and I don't remember if this is exclusive to the second year, partial scholarships open up for which one applies. This type of information is also on the website. Link to scholarships and grants page.
Things seem to be a little different now in terms of requirements, what one does as a scholar, and amounts of the scholarships, but the one I got was to give tours of the school to any and all interested parties. I did this gladly because I am a huge cheerleader for NYAA <3

During my class' graduation ceremony I was awarded the Hudson Valley Art Association "Anatomy and Excellence Award".
Dean then and now Provost Peter Drake announced it and what an amazingly lovely way of closing off my MFA.

- Lectures
NYAA offers lectures which are basically open to the public (Link to NYAA's vimeo). I had to attend all of these as a student, and they are meant to supplement, more or less, the classes. Some of the subjects addressed in these lectures were how to approach a gallery, how to price work, artist lectures where they'd talk about their career.

I didn't care for any of the lectures, but they also without a doubt, helped me learn to talk about art.
Actually, I did care about the Anne Harris lecture a lot. It was sort of the only lecture that happened in my mind.
Also, there was another lecture about pricing work, with Peter Drake interviewing a guy, who said "pricing of art has no logic" several times during the lecture, and goddammit guy, you are right.
I don't remember anything else he said.

This is an aspect which was criticized by that same handful of whining classmates: there not being enough "art business" type instruction, and I suppose if I wanted to play devil's advocate I could agree with them to a certain extent. Like ok, I want to study fine art, is it really the duty of the school teaching you fine art to also teach you the business of art?
I don't know, I suppose you could argue it is, but if this is what you want, back to part 1 of this entry: make sure art business or something like it is in the curriculum of the degree you pick.

tl;dr Basically a continuation of part 1. After I did my own research, I did the MFA, loved the shit out of it. Excellent service, would absolutely recommend, would do it again, five stars *****, 10/10


3. Relationship with NYAA after graduating

After graduating, I felt lost and aimless, depressed I wouldn't be attending the NYAA building anymore, seeing my classmates, and being in its super stimulating atmosphere. I kept going to the print shop to do lithography, like a stray puppy. Stray puppies do lithography.
I caught the behavior soon enough and realized I had to make something in my own home studio (I haven't had a "formal" art studio since NYAA, but a home studio) to break the feeling.
Once I did, I was able to start moving on and think of what I should be doing in the present, make money for rent, and my work.

I've been able to consistently show my work in NYAA shows and unrelated galleries, and it's basically because I apply for things often.

NYAA has shows for which alumni can apply, like the Summer Show, Deck the Walls, and Take Home A Nude. Other times an email will be sent to alumni to invite them to submit work for an art fair, other times an alumni I made acquaintance/friends with is curating a show and they will invite me.

Also, I've kept a line of communication with NYAA in the past by being a Teaching Assistant, and it may or may not help directly or indirectly to get into shows, but for me it's rather about staying in touch with the community.

A while after graduating, I decided I wanted to expand my artistic circle a bit more and make it go a little beyond NYAA. I've more or less done this by just going to openings, submitting work to group shows, and Instagram.

There's also the Alumni Association of New York Academy of Art, which occasionally sends out an open call, but it's also great to make contact with all sorts of NYAA alumn.
AANYAA also does crit nights occasionally, and it's awesome to be able to see what everyone is working on so long after having graduated. Or maybe not that long, it doesn't matter.
This also goes with being part of a community. You nurture your relationship with it by following up and sticking around.

I would say, however, one is responsible for one's art career and life after graduating. You already got what you paid for: the degree. And now you have an actual reason to get other people to call you "Master".
Similarly to "stuff is happening in your brain when you input information and do stuff", what you do with everything you've learned is entirely in your hands.

tl;dr You've broken out of the MFA egg. Go on out there and be a big, independent bird.

Mentorships

Welcome to the fourth entry of this blog and sincerest thank you for your patience!

I have never been super good at keeping a journal or blog, but if you come to read this whenever I do write something, I very sincerely appreciate it.

If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions for future entries, feel free to leave a comment here or send me a DM to my instagram (@gabrielahandal).

So today's entry is about art mentorships. I know fuckall about any sort of mentorship, but my colleague art friend Kristy Gordon is an art mentor, and art mentorship is part of the art services she offers, besides teaching, writing articles, and making her own work.

Here are the questions I asked and her answers, if you have any more questions, feel free to look at the Online Courses section of her website and her website in general. 
Just her website is really quite helpful in general, providing a super good example of how to present yourself to the world through your website, and how we can branch out as artists.

At the bottom I also added a few other websites that offer mentoring, for kicks.

1. What even is mentoring? 

I see an artist's mentorship as working with a person closely over a period of time where they can advise the mentee on all aspects of your their career.  The mentor can give technical guidance as well as support with the mentee's professional development. One would want this mentor to be someone who has already achieved the things you want to achieve, so they have already leapt the hurdles that one is trying to navigate.

2. How long have you been mentoring? 

I first started mentoring artists through the Portrait Society of America’s Cecilia Beaux Forum’s Mentorship Program in 2015.  Then in 2016 I founded my online art mentoring program and I’ve been working with artist in that platform ever since.

3. What made you want to be an art mentor to begin with?

I really believe in the mentee/mentor relationship since I benefited so much when in 2013 I got selected to be mentored by Alexandra Tyng, through the Portrait Society of America’s Cecilia Beaux Forum’s Mentorship Program.  

I gained so much from that, as well as from the more informal mentors I’ve had over the years – artists who became my friends, who were able to guide me through the critical stages of my journey. From these experiences I wanted to give back. It’s like it came full circle and everyone benefits. I’m able to feel very satisfied and fulfilled as I support budding artists navigate the art world, so I benefit from being able to support them and they benefit from my support.

4. How do you decide in what order to address the issues an artist might have in their career? Is it a standardized specific set of steps or does it depend? What does it depend on? 

I have a general order in mind that makes sense to me, but the structure of the program allows people to design it to fit their needs and to address issues in whatever order they like.  Essentially, there's a wide variety of online videos that people get access to as soon as they sign up.  These videos cover the full range of topics: from developing foundational technical skills, to painting from the imagination, as well as all the art business stuff - like artists’ statement writing, copyright issues, varnishing, framing and shipping considerations; how to get and complete commissions and how to submit to galleries.  So artists choose which videos to watch and when.   
Also once a month we have a group conference call, so I can address any questions people have. This way I also develop the curriculum based on each artists’ current needs, in addition to working on basic stuff, such as regular workshops on writing the artists’ bio, statement and CV, etc.

5. How is the bullet point from your website "receive a steady flow of inspiration to keep you growing towards your technical and artistic career goals" addressed in your program? 

This is addressed in two ways:

First because of the video tutorials people gain access to online, they watch those and gain inspiration to take their work to the next level.   

Second, the monthly accountability that the monthly video critiques and conference calls provide keep artists moving and making consistent progress in their studios.  

Of course, each person gets what they put into it as well.

6. Have you ever received mentorship yourself? 

Yes! I benefited greatly from the mentorship I received from Alexandra Tyng in 2013 through the Portrait Society of America’s Cecilia Beaux Forum’s Mentorship Program, as well as what I would consider to be informal mentorships with very talented and successful artists who became my friends and were available to guide me along the way.

7. What do you recommend to people looking for a mentorship program or mentor? What do you suggest they look for? 

I suggest finding someone who has done the things you want to do, who already knows how to overcome the obstacles you might need to navigate. I would also recommend something to help you stay accountable and make well paced, steady, consistent progress, where there is a set date and time you check in each month, and addresses both your technical concerns and as your professional development questions.

Here are some additional links to other websites offering mentoring for artists:
1. Artist Mentoring with Laureen Marchand
2. Mentorly - This one looks extremely interesting in that it matches people offering mentoring in different fields and people looking to be mentored.
3. Artist Coaching and Mentoring by David Limrite

Thank you very much for reading!
If you have any questions, comments, and blog entry suggestions feel free to leave them in the comment section of this very blog entry or send me a Direct Message to my instagram (@gabrielahandal). 
Have a lovely day and please drink water and don't be a dick to your fellow humans.