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Is It Worth the Trouble?

Monday, 14. September 2020 0:08

A friend of mine is a cold brew fanatic. For every pot he grinds the beans, measures the amount of ground coffee on a scale, and precisely measures the filtered water. And then he waits. Exactly 13 hours later, he drains the coffee concentrate and bottles it for the coming week. Recently we were discussing coffee and the subject of a certain coffee that he likes came up. “I don’t drink that anymore,” he said. When I asked why, he said that it was just “not worth the trouble.” It seems that that particular coffee causes problems for the grinder, which has to be stopped and started and unclogged repeatedly just to get enough coffee to make a pot.

Some of us are feeling that way about our art these days. In the last post, I mentioned some of the difficulties that photographers and theatre artists encounter when they try to pivot to a different way of doing things. Sometimes that new way of doing things comes with a very steep learning curve in addition to the unexpected difficulties. And then, the results are never quite what we had hoped for. The whole experience can be full of anxiety and frustration, and that leads some of us to ask whether what we are doing is actually worth the trouble.

Of course, some of us will answer loudly and immediately, “Yes!” Those are the ones who feel that because it’s art, it’s worth any amount of trouble. All that matters is producing, and circumstances be damned. Others of us might take a more measured approach. There have been, and probably always will be, projects that won’t be under-taken regardless of the external conditions. Those are the projects that are too big for the budget or that are too difficult because of their conceptual requirements. It may be that a project is completely beyond our capabilities. In the past when those cases came up, we would move on to other projects that were—because of their lesser cost or complication or requirements—doable. And we didn’t think less of ourselves for that.

So perhaps when it seems impossible for us to embrace an entirely new methodology and/or a completely new medium, we might want to cut ourselves some slack. Change is often difficult and always stressful, and a forced changed without a modification in schedule can be unmanageably problematic. So we might want to consider altering the schedule or the scope or the range of our work. We might want to find ways to make the situation into a workable one, or we may decide it’s just not worth the trouble.

Making art under the best of conditions is hard, but making art under extraordinary conditions we are experiencing in the US today is doubly difficult. Sometimes it does become a choice between bearing up under crushing stress or, as noted above, figuring out a way to make the situation more workable and thus more tolerable. And, of course, there’s always the third choice: declaring that it’s not worth the trouble and walking away. And we may find that we have different responses to different projects. Ultimately, however, which of these three paths we take will, as always, depend on each individual project and each individual artist.

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Pivot

Tuesday, 1. September 2020 0:04

If there’s one thing that 2020 has taught us thus far, it’s that things are not going to go right. And it’s not just the things that we expect to go wrong; it’s things we didn’t even see coming. No matter what art we are engaged in, we have to be ready to pivot. Some would say that this is just a variation on Bobby Shaftoe’s advice to “display adaptability,” but it’s more than that, or at least it seems that way. Things change and plans fail at a dizzying speed these days. Not only do we have to plan for normal contingencies, but we must plan for the extra-ordinary, and we must be able to do it quickly.

And sometimes that requires a whole new way of thinking, primarily because many of us are now working in uncharted territory. Even artists who are used to working alone are denied their normal in-person social network, or if they still enjoy that luxury, it is changed by the necessity for masks and social distancing. Things are even more difficult for collaborative artists. In addition to normal preparation, photo shoots, for example, now require immense preparation for health and safety reasons. This may include considerations that impact the work, such as lens choice, allowing the model their safe space and still getting the work done—so the pandemic influences the art, perhaps in subtle ways, but the influence is there nonetheless. Other choices for shoots are little better, risking the safety and health of photographers, models, and assistants, or postponing the shoot until who-knows when.

Theatre, perhaps the most collaborative of the arts, brings in a whole new set of issues that can overwhelm the savviest of producing organization. First is the choice of whether to attempt some sort of live performance with not only socially-distanced performers, but a socially-distanced audience as well. Most of us realized that this is not a practical solution. Then we pivot to some sort of virtual performance. And that brings with it a whole host of new considerations and problems. It begins with securing virtual performance rights. Since the agents who control the rights to live performances were, before April of this year, not in the business of granting streaming rights, they have had to pivot to incorporate that into their businesses. Because the process is new and because it requires decisions to be made out-of-house, it can sometimes delay a decision on rights acquisition for weeks.

Then there are the technical considerations: what platform or what combinations of platforms are the best for presenting theatrical fare like we have never done before? For many of us who have worked long in live theatre, there is much to learn—just in order to know what to try and what to reject. Sometimes, the most desirable approaches must be rejected because there is no way to employ them without exposing the performers and technicians to danger. And even after those choices are made, there are difficulties that come up for which we are not prepared: there seems to be no end to connectivity issues and timing problems and scheduling difficulties—because everyone involved in the production is dealing with all of those issues in their own lives, issues that are extra-ordinary, even after months of self-quarantining and coming to terms with the new facts of life.

So we have to be ready for nearly any eventuality—all the time—which means that we must be twice as prepared as we normally are, and prepared for brand new twists and turns. And yes, it can be immensely stressful. But art is what we do, so we, like any good basketball player, must be ready to pivot—sometimes with no notice at all.

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Stop Waiting

Sunday, 2. August 2020 23:11

A lot of us are sitting around waiting for normality to return. Then, we say, we will get back to work; things will be just like they were, and life will go on. And some of us think that will be really soon now. Not to be a doomsayer, but I don’t think that’s going to happen—at least not any time soon. The optimists who are saying that we will be back to normal in a few weeks have not looked at history. The most similar pandemic to the current one was the 1918 flu pandemic. That pandemic had lasted two years, had four waves, infected 500 million people, and killed between 17 and 50 million. If COVID-19 is remotely similar, we are looking at a long time of staying home, social distancing, and mask-wearing.

And we might as well face it: normal is not coming back—at least not normal as we knew it. Even when a vaccine is developed, things will not be the same as they were. The economy will have been altered. Society will be different. We have to remember that we in the US are not only dealing with COVID-19, we are also dealing with an extreme political situation and with a movement calling out racial inequality and police brutality. The world will not be the same on the other side of this; we will not be the same.  And the primary reason for that is that when this is ever over—assuming that it ever is over—we not only will be living in a different world, but we ourselves will have been changed by what we have been through.

You may already feel the difference. Many of us are not the same people that we were five months ago. We have endured stresses that we never expected to encounter. We have had to learn new skills in order to survive. We have changed our lifestyles. Some of us have changed the way we think, particularly about political and social issues.

And the future is fuzzy at best. For example, even when we feel comfortable putting a new play on the stage, the audience may not feel comfortable sitting shoulder-to-shoulder to see it. That may take a while longer. It certainly may take a while before actors are comfortable being intimate either on the stage or in front of a camera. Art galleries where we used to display our painting, sculpture, and photography may no longer exist, their owners having had to find other means of making a living. So we don’t know what the world will be like.

Like Vladimir and Estragon, we are waiting for something that likely is not coming. So perhaps waiting is not the best choice. Perhaps doing is the best choice. There is nothing to keep us from making art: writing, drawing, painting. Just thinking and planning constitute artistic doing, as does adapting our work to the world as it is today (which may be one of the most valuable things we can do).

But what if we spend our time doing all that and it comes to nothing? That is certainly a possibility, but, having exercised our creativity, we are in a much better place, both mentally and artistically, than if we had just sat and waited. Stop waiting; start doing.

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Comfortably Numb

Sunday, 19. July 2020 23:34

It’s almost too much. We in the US are dealing with far too many negatives in our lives at the moment to fully concentrate on creating. First we are trying to stay healthy and safe, which is easier for some than for others. For those of us fortunate enough to be able to work at our day jobs from home, the risk is somewhat diminished; however, that sheltering in place keeps us isolated. And that isolation can be detrimental to our mental health unless we are prepared to deal with it. Working from home presents its own set of challenges even after this length of time. We don’t quite ever have the tools we used to have, so every day is a learning experience as we discover new means and methods to accomplish our tasks.

Added to that, we hear news every day that more and more cases of COVID-19 are occurring and that the death toll continues to rise. Things are not getting better. And that weighs on us because it means that we must look at more weeks and months of isolation—if we are to stay safe and healthy. In addition to that, we also hear every day about police violence and brutality, about systemic racism and its impact on people’s lives, about political campaigns built on fear and lies.

And so we fret and worry and try with everything in us to make some kind of sense out of it all, to come to terms with our own situation and the state of the country. And it’s almost too much.

And then, the one-too-many headline comes and we don’t even bother to read the attendant article. The line has been crossed; it’s finally too much. Tears are not a choice; we are already dry and have been for months. The other choice is to close down, to go numb. Numb is when nothing gets to us; nothing touches us; nothing matters; the world moves on without us, because we are in an unfeeling existence.

Make no mistake, numbness is comfortable. We don’t hurt anymore; we don’t worry anymore; we’re not concerned any more. And it’s easy because we are used to hunkering down alone. There is, however, a down side: since we no longer feel, we don’t create; we don’t produce. We spend our time scrolling through Twitter or Instagram or YouTube or staring off into space and doing mostly nothing. But it’s okay because it doesn’t hurt any more. It can last for days or weeks or months or forever. We are comfortably numb.

The problem is that all the things we were concerned about before are still there, and, if we are to be honest, still need our attention. Even in our isolation there are things we can do. There are posts we can write. There are comments we can make. There are people that we can influence. There is creative work we can do. There are ideas and artifacts we can produce.

So when that one-too-many headline hits, instead of closing down, we might instead take a day off. Turn off The Washington Post, The New York Times, the Twitter and Instagram feeds. Rest. Breathe. Gather ourselves. Remember who we are and what we’re about. Then—do something creative. Perhaps even produce some art. The world will roll on and we can rejoin it when we are able, but in the meantime we must not allow ourselves to become comfortably numb.

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Of Uniforms and Ritual

Sunday, 10. May 2020 21:41

Many things have changed since mid-March. Some of us are working from home; some of us are unemployed; a few of us are performing essential services and exposing ourselves daily to Coronavirus risk. Everyone’s life has changed.  Even those of us who have always been solitary artists have seen some change. Everybody feels off-balance, not exactly knowing what the next step might be. Part of the reason that we are feeling the way we are is the absence of uniforms and ritual in our current lives.

A friend of mine says that all successful people dress in uniforms. She did not mean, of course, literal uniforms, but rather that people whom she considers successful dress so that every day they are dressed similarly, whatever way that happens to be. For some that may be a sports jacket, button-up shirt, and jeans; for others it may be a two-piece suit. For Steve Jobs it was Levis black 501 jeans and a black mock turtle-neck shirt; the shirts were designed specifically for him by Japanese designer Issey Miyake.

Many of us developed “uniforms” that we wore pre-pandemic. One of the first things that happened when we were compelled to stay at home was the abandonment of our uniforms. Many of us quickly opted for T-shirts and pajama bottoms. Comfort seemed to be the order of the day, and changing clothes was just a ridiculous concept. However, a man I know who is one of the best-adjusted newly at-home workers I know told me that he just changed uniforms. Needless to say, he is a firm believer in the uniform concept evinced by Steve Jobs. He says that he adopted yoga pants (the loose ones—very comfortable, but a little more stylish than pajama pants or shorts) and a polo shirt, which enables him to be “camera ready” for the unannounced Skype, Zoom, or Teams calls. And shoes; he says the shoes (sneakers) are very important to feeling “dressed.” That’s his work-from-home outfit; it’s very different from his pre-pandemic wear. He says that when he’s off work, he changes clothes to help him differentiate work time and personal time. He also says having a uniform helps with his outlook and attitude.

A second thing that changed in March was our set of rituals. We all had developed personal rituals that we went through every day. Some were consciously developed; others were unconscious. Some of us did a quiet time or meditation every morning before we began our work day. Others of us went through the ritual of coffee, shower, breakfast, commute as a beginning to our days.

Suddenly, our routines changed and not only were we disconcerted and disoriented by the pandemic and its implications, but we are also absent our daily rituals that helped us begin and get through the day. This, of course, led to even more disorientation and distress. We were hit by a tsunami and at the same time became untethered from our moorings. Is it any wonder that many of us felt lost?

The good news is that we can adopt new uniforms and develop new rituals. We might do well to remember Karl Lagerfeld’s famous quote about sweatpants, which also applies to pajamas: “Sweatpants are a sign of defeat. You lost control of your life so you bought some sweatpants.” Uniforms don’t have to be “dressy” or what we wore when we “went to work,” but they can reflect a style and an attitude that moves us forward.

Likewise we can add ritual to our day. We certainly do not have to “go to work” to have ritual in our existence; we just have to tailor the little pieces of our behavior to our current situation and then repeat those behaviors until they become rituals that inform our days. The thing about rituals is, at least according to Scientific American, is they work. We certainly don’t have to do the same things in the same order that we used to, but it would be well to do the same things in the same order every day.  The routine and the ritual thus established will comfort us if nothing else.

Many think that the pandemic will be with us for a while, certainly far longer than any of us would like. Perhaps developing new rituals and adopting a uniform that matches our new mode of working will help us cope with this new and still-unsettling way of life.

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Beware of the Shoulds

Sunday, 26. April 2020 22:53

So, you’re sheltering in place or you’re going to your essential job or you’re working from home or you’re passing the pandemic in some way or the other. Your situation likely is not like your neighbors’. As a matter of fact your situation is unique to you, and that’s why you ought to beware of the shoulds.

Every time you open an arts web site, some “authority” or the other is telling you what you should be doing during this time of international stress and disease. And many of them press the point so hard that if you were to take them seriously, you would feel guilty if you didn’t follow their advice. “Shakespeare wrote King Lear while quarantined; Sir Isaac Newton invented calculus while quarantined. You should do something equally spectacular.” “Make art, even if it’s bad art.” “Now that you have time on your hands, use it constructively.” “What a perfect opportunity to do research for that story you want to write.” “This could be the time for you to make your best art!” “It’s a perfect time to learn those dance steps you were talking about.” “Now you can set up that home studio.” “Now is the time to write that novel.” “This is a perfect opportunity to work on that difficult piece you want to play.” “Now you have all this time to edit that last photo shoot.” “Why don’t you work on that sculpture now that you have the time?”

STOP LISTENING TO THOSE PEOPLE!

They are not you and do not know what you are dealing with. You may feel like the world has changed completely; it has. You may feel that the rug has been pulled out from under your existence; it has. You may be spending so much time dealing with exigencies of doing your job on line that you don’t have time for anything resembling art-making. That’s okay. You may be dealing with the unbelievable stress of having to completely change your lifestyle just to survive. That’s okay too. You may just not feel like making any art today, or this week, or this month, much less attempting a masterpiece. And even that’s okay.

Those you-should-be-doings are other people’s; they are not yours. Only you know what is right for you at this particular moment in time, and, if you are anything like me, it changes from day to day. Some days you may be super-energetic about developing new ways to work from home or approaching some other project. Other days may be hum-drum. On yet other days you may be totally depressed. There is no one-size-fits-all formula. You have to take each day as it comes and deal with yourself and your situation on that day only.

And on some days you may make art, or you may not. Although it feels like we have been doing this forever, we are still just feeling our way along, trying to deal with the shock and grief and uncertainty as best as we can on a day-to-day basis. We have no idea where we’re going, but we keep inching forward. What we do NOT need to do is beat ourselves up for not being creative and productive every minute of our existence. What we are going through takes some time to come to terms with—if we ever can. Our minds will turn to art and making it when it is appropriate for us—as individuals—not according to an admonition by some smug Internet pundit.

Chapter 24 of Jerry Saltz’s How to Be an Artist, is entitled “There are no Wasted Days.” In this very brief chapter he says that “your artist’s mind is always working, even when you think it’s idling….You are your method; your life is part of your work.” And it’s true. All that time when you are trying to cope with the new reality, your creative mind is working, absorbing, combining, understanding. When it’s time for you to produce, you will produce. And just as each person’s art is unique, each artist’s method and timing is personal and distinctive.

You will make art when you feel it is time, and it will be as good as it can be. Until then, just keep living and learning—and ignoring the shoulds.

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Survival Suggestions

Sunday, 15. March 2020 23:28

The coronavirus pandemic has forced many of us into isolation. If you are an artist who usually works alone, a writer or painter perhaps, this is nothing new. You are used to spending the day mostly alone. For others of us in the arts, this a new and not necessarily welcome turn of events. Suddenly, many of us who are used to working with others are being forced into solitude.  This represents a significant disruption to our daily routine and requires some changes in thinking and doing. We are forced to, in the words of the Shaftoes, “display some adaptability.” Here are a few suggestions that may help you come to terms with your new reality.

  • Turn off the television—and your Twitter feed and any other news feed you have. It’s really easy to obsess over the news which tries to grab our attention 24/7. That’s too much. I’m not suggesting that you isolate yourself completely from all news (although that might not be a terrible idea), rather that you decide which news shows/feeds you will watch and when you will watch them and when that time is up, turn them off. It is not likely that you will need minute-by-minute coverage of the current situation. You can use the time for something productive or enjoyable or both, but only if you are able to tune out of the news. The following suggestions will be possible only if you do this one first.
  • No matter your situation, it has been and will be stressful. Now that you have a little more time for yourself, use it to rest. Sleep in. Take a nap. Disengage. Allow your mind to settle. Only then can you deal realistically with your situation.
  • Take some time for yourself. Along with resting, you can use some of this unexpected “free” time to do some of the things you haven’t had time to do. That time may involve doing nothing. It may involve relaxing in the sunshine. It may involve any number of things that you consider enjoyable that you just haven’t had time for. Now you have the time; use it for your benefit.
  • Watch a movie. You know, the one that you have been meaning to watch, but couldn’t spare the time for. Streaming services are still working and will show you the movie that you’ve been wanting to see no matter the time of day or night.
  • Listen to some music. Yes, most of us have music on in the background most of the time. But when was the last time you stopped and really listened to some music? Well, now you have the time. Do it. It will enrich you in ways you can’t even think about until you do it. It will make your day better.
  • Pick a project from your list and do it. You have no excuse, so you might as well do that thing that has been on your list forever—or for a few days. Use the time that you find that you suddenly have on your hands.
  • Go outside. Let the sun shine on you. Enjoy the grass and flowers and birds. It’s refreshing both physically and mentally, and probably something you don’t do often enough. Do it now.
  • Get to that book. Whether it’s a book that you have promised yourself you would read or a book that you promised yourself you would write, now is the time to tackle it. You don’t have to do it all at once, but this is the perfect opportunity to begin.
  • Make a schedule for yourself—build a routine. While some unstructured time can be a blessing, too much can be a curse. Most of us like to operate on a schedule whether we admit it or not, so faced with an indefinite amount of unstructured time, make yourself a schedule to give that time shape and form. Not a list, a schedule—what to do when. You will find that a schedule will allow you to more productively use your time. If you are a teaching artist, you might even simulate your school schedule since you are used to it. Having a schedule and developing a routine can make all the difference in whether your newly-found “spare” time is productive or not.

Certainly these are not the only suggestions for artists to survive our new socially isolated reality, but hopefully these will help if you are having difficulty adapting to the new, hopefully temporary, normal.

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Change Just One Thing

Sunday, 2. February 2020 23:54

Most pundits agree that to be really creative, we must step outside our comfort zones. Some even argue that “being an artist is about living in the uncomfortable zone.” Even writers who take issue with this idea think that to be creative in our comfort zones we must regularly get out of them to gain “new experiences and learning,” and to be more productive. Regardless of what we read on the topic, it seems that having something fresh and different in our environments can be of great service to both our creativity and productivity.

At the same time, we read over and over again that to be creative and productive we should be working in comfortable places and adhering to a fairly strict routines. How are we to reconcile this opposition of views?

The most obvious way to do this is to change something within our comfortable places and strict routines. The easiest thing to change is something physical. The rationale for this approach is that we become very accustomed to having things in certain places—to the point that we don’t have to think about them. If we move something, it is still present and useful, but it is in a different place and that creates a newness in the environment that can sometimes have surprising results.

As it turns out, several people have mentioned doing this very thing over the last several weeks. One is a theatre artist who decided to move a salt lamp that was on a very small table beside a recliner. Suddenly the very small table was able to hold a book and a coffee cup, and a new reading nook had been created. This changed where she did some of her reading, which, in turn changed some of her reading habits and general traffic patterns. She is still getting used to this new reading place and is tracking how many other changes will flow from just this simple modification.

A photographer I know who has two “changeable” walls in his home. He says that he changes out pictures on these two walls at irregular intervals, and that those changes are so powerful that they transform the spaces, which in turn causes his thinking to change when he’s in those rooms. This, he claims, makes the environments more creative.

Another photographer I know does essentially the same thing with wall calendars. She says that the changing of several images once a month spark ideas that she would not otherwise have had.

And yet another person, a writer, says that in the past he has had trouble getting to end of non-fiction books. What he did to overcome the problem was to move the current non-fiction from his reading spot or bookcase to a very conspicuous place where he would have to pass it regularly. This would discomfit him and he would be compelled to pick the book up and proceed toward the end.

What all these people have in common is that they changed a very small part of their environments, and those changes provided just enough newness or difference to make a creative difference in their work. A small change is enough to push us just a little outside our comfort zone for a short amount of time, so we can have the best of both worlds.

All we have to do is change just one thing. Try it.

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The Gift of Unstructured Time

Sunday, 8. December 2019 21:55

Americans reportedly work more than workers in any other developed country. Some would say that our work ethic is the result of Puritan influence; others might blame it on our no-holds-barred capitalism. Whatever the reason, we spend a lot of time working.

And if we are artists, it’s even worse. Because we like what we do, we tend to spend an enormous amount of time working. Added to that is the pressure to produce, particularly in the current social media environment. Jonas Jödicke has described the present-day pressure to produce this way:

 

So we work. And some of us try to follow the advice of so many successful artists from Khaled Hosseini,  to Julia Cameron and work with discipline, which means working on our art at a set time every day or working a certain amount of time every day. And many of us work at our art literally every day. Working with discipline often requires schedules and organization. And, as anyone who is a regular reader of this blog knows, I, for one, am a great believer in schedules, organization, structure, and lists. For anyone similarly disposed, this bent of mind facilitates the further structuring of our work time.

And structuring our work time can lead to structuring our other time as well, particularly if we are busy.  This leads to structuring all of our time. And while such structure might make us remarkably productive and organized, it can also have a deadening effect on our creativity. We find ourselves locked into our schedules and operating much like machines. What to do?

The solution sounds oxymoronic. We simply need to schedule unstructured time.  That is, we need to periodically set aside an amount of time during which there is no structure, during which nothing is scheduled. We can then use this time to think, dream, create, play the guitar, play with the cat, wash the dishes, weed the garden—or all of the above. That’s the point; it’s a time during which nothing is planned. This can be scary the first time, particularly for those of us who are schedule- and list-driven. And there is the fear of being bored, but creative people can always find something to do, and the discovery of new things to occupy us is one of the positive results of unstructured time. Once we accept the idea of unstructured time, there is yet another danger: planning what we will do during our scheduled unstructured time. This, of course, negates unstructured time. Once we plan what we will do, the time becomes structured. And even if we are addicted to being busy, we can busy ourselves during our unstructured time—just doing unplanned things. It’s like kindergarten recess for creatives.

How much unstructured time we need is an individual matter. Some of us need some every day. Others find once a week satisfying. Still others may need unstructured time only once a month. Length of time also varies with the individual. Whatever our particular needs, having that block of unstructured time will have a positive effect on our creativity and overall disposition. And that’s a gift worth giving ourselves.

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Talk About Your Work

Sunday, 24. November 2019 22:55

Remember when you were in that class and the instructor asked you to explain your work? Remember how you thought, “It’s art; I can’t explain it.” And then you took that other course and the instructor asked you to do the same thing, and this time you thought, “If I could explain it, I wouldn’t have had to paint [photograph, sculpt, compose, write] it.” But it only got worse. They kept asking you to explain what you were doing and, worse than that, they asked your peers to critique your work and say what they thought you were trying to communicate and how well you accomplished that.

It didn’t matter which art you were studying; the teachers were always asking for rationales for the choices that you made. They never let you get away with, “I’ll just let the work speak for itself.” And they continued to ask your peers what they thought about your work. And sometimes you learned that your work did not say exactly what you set out to say, at least to other people in the class.

As is often the case, the teachers were correct in their push to have us articulate our work. Even though we hate doing it, articulation forces us to put our work into prose, which forces us to think about the art differently. This is particularly useful for work that may be mysterious or ambiguous or may not be clear to the viewers/listeners. Probably this was not apparent to us when it was happening in school. The fact is that there is always something to be learned from articulating our work.

Please note that this has nothing to do with the talking about our work that agents, advisors, and gallerists tell us to do. That is a sales technique. And we’re really talking about something different:  the story of how the idea came and the process of making the work rather than an attempt to explain the work itself.

Many artists make articulation part of their process. For example, I know actors who, as part of their technique, walk through all the actions they will perform in a show, but they talk to themselves as they do it. I also know stage directors who have conversations with their assistant directors for the sole purpose of hearing themselves evaluate the things they are doing to shape the show.

Recently I found another use for talking about my work. Some photographs were not quite what I wanted them to be, but I couldn’t put my finger on the precise problem. I had a friend look at them, and he pointed out a couple of things that I had thought about, but did not realize the full impact of until I heard it in words. Then I realized that I could have done it by myself. All I had to do was start talking about what was right about the image which, of course, led me to realize and be able to verbalize what was wrong with the image. Hearing it in words makes all the difference.

So now I talk to myself—even more than I used to—but now I talk about the art and how it works, or doesn’t. It sounds simplistic, but it takes editing out of the world of feelings and ideas and puts it into the world of reason. And that helps, and anything that helps make the work better is worth a try.

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