What I have to say will come as no surprise.
But it will probably offend many of you.*
These remarks are long overdue—they spring from having seen too many sow’s ears made out of sow’s ears. And too much motherly “support” for the arts that is fatal to authentic art-making. Supporting is condescending. In some cases it amounts to virtue signaling. E.g. I went to the Symphony so that I could say I went to the Symphony.
Being a critic, especially in a small community, is a thankless task. Everyone with a performance, or a concert, or an exhibit seeks critical approval. But few want to hear critical appraisal.
Pro tip: if you consistently tell the truth, if you’re fair in your evaluations, people will trust what you have to say. But if you always praise every performance, every dance recital, every plein air show, etc. etc. no one will trust you.
“But I read a rave review in the __________. ” Yes, but did you believe it? Rave reviews only have credibility if the critic doesn’t give everything a rave review.
I am invited to many openings
And rehearsals, performances, and events. It’s wonderful to be asked. I try to go to ones that my intuition tells me might offer surprise. Pieces that show skill, but even more; that trigger some new insight. Pieces made by artists who can shape a narrative, or produce an unexpected image that points and reveals beyond itself.
There’s always a place for enthusiastic amateurs, people who enjoy making decorative visual work or playing music and who are generous about sharing. Creative people abound where I live in Santa Cruz, and many are self-aware enough to know when the work deserves a professional showing or when it’s wiser to invite family and friends to come admire at a private venue. It takes major chutzpah to charge audiences $30 to see/hear your work. And so the work must be able to justify the ticket price and to bear scrutiny.
Mothers Love Everything
Consider this: My mother loves everything I do, even though as a painter herself she doesn’t mind chiming in with a few choice words about composition or color choices. But my mother is subjective. Mother’s love what their children do. Refrigerator doors display the evidence. A critic is not the artist’s mother.
Be a true friend
If supporting your friend’s artwork means never daring to say a critical word about their efforts, then you’re not only cheating your friend of expanding his/her horizons—you’re lowering the bar of quality for everyone, the insanely gifted as well as the up-and-comers. You’re proclaiming that whatever they do is good enough for you. You’re patronizing your friend. It’s true, you might bruise someone’s feelings by offering a critical comment. But to never risk hurting someone’s feelings is to stay safe and agreeable (and phony!). It’s throwing away the chance to have an authentic discussion, to engage in some nitty gritty about artistic intentions.
Hell yes it’s easier, and safer, to simply smile and tell your friend/acquaintance that their work is “interesting.” That you’re glad you came to see it.
We’ve all done that. In the long run, it’s a sign that you don’t expect much from that person.
True story
My mother’s friend Donna was a woman who made little animal figures out of (so help me) cookie dough mixed with some hardening agent. Donna gave all her close friends one of these little figures for Christmas gifts. My mother, a sweet woman without a single enemy in the world, always complimented Donna on her annual dough figurine. And sure enough, next year Donna gave my mother the exact same species of dough figure. This went on year after year.
My mother had encouraged her friend and she got what she deserved. A cabinet full of kitsch. [After Donna’s death, I opened my mother’s china cabinet, grabbed a half dozen of these misshapen monsters, and hurled them into the garbage.] And Donna, a woman who might have pushed herself to more adventurous results, stayed right where she was on the felt-and-sequin ladder of tackiness (where my late Auntie Da is the reigning matriarch.)
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking the creative urge. It’s a universal impulse, and it’s a lot healthier than vaping or using a leaf blower. It’s done for the sheer love of it. But you don’t ask a critic to come see your new macramé piece expecting a published review.
If you do expect some critical response to work you’ve presented in public, be prepared for honest feedback. Something along the lines of, “Have you considered casting a trained dancer in the role of the acrobat (rather than your arthritic father-in-law)?” or, “This seems like a terrific start to something. If you explore this style further, who knows where it will lead.”
Another pro-tip
As a longtime restaurant reviewer I learned to accentuate the positive. If the food was mediocre, I wrote about the decor. If the food was bad, I didn’t write about it at all. This is a small town.
I will never tell you I loved your work, if I didn’t. If I felt it was unclear, or naive, or cloying, or just plain silly, or that it had been done before many times (and better), I will strive to be polite and say nothing. Lying to someone doesn’t help them grow or introspect about what it is they’re trying to express. It simply perpetuates the ordinary, the easy, or the embarrassing. Or worse. It deludes a serious practitioner into self-satisfaction, rather than encouraging them to go further. We already have plenty of that. We each should be aiming for the stars. But you’ll never aim there if you are consistently told that you already *are* there.
Final pro-tip
Just because someone is a nice person and has put a lot of effort into a piece of work doesn’t make it good. Hard work doesn’t equal insight. Quantity does not equal quality. A critic who refuses to coo platitudes is actually encouraging artists to push further. Those who come out to support are like mothers showing up for their child’s recitals. They are doing their duty.
To unreflectively applaud everything is to fail the entire mission of artistic growth. Those who come out to support don’t engage with the work, or the artist. They neglect to educate themselves in the history or vocabulary that would help to stretch and strengthen their own insight into what the artist is doing. They stick to safe, feel-good categories. “I love your colors,” or worse. They simply walk through an exhibit, or sit for a concert, without bothering to assess or discuss what they’ve just seen and heard.
Don’t be that kind of art consumer. Ask more of yourself. And of the artist.
Stop supporting the arts. It’s condescending! Authentic art doesn’t need to be supported. Go because you expect to be excited, swept away, surprised, delighted, and impressed. To have a good time, not to be worn out by obligation.
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* This piece was prompted by my recent experience of an art “event” so utterly misguided, embarrassing, and narcissistic as to be almost beyond comprehension. Rather than ruin someone’s day, or indeed their art practice revival, I sat there and endured an hour I will never have back. The other observers were there to “support” the artist’s effort, which was not a pro bono affair. A hefty chunk of change was charged. I was appalled and insulted. Hence this post.
Food for thought: Does Patti Smith need your support? Or a concert by professional musicians? Or a play by Shakespeare? Would you go hear Jonathan Franzen read because you want to support him?
Well said, Christina. A corollary would be asking people to stop giving standing ovations, just because they have a friend or loved one in a play. The “standing O” – once a rare occurence when people were overwhelmed by the beauty of what they experienced – has sadly become meaningless.
Hurray Christina!!
Thank you many times over ……I agree with you and am grateful for this… you’ll get static for this but what the heck! Brava!
xoxox
As the recipient of much deserved and undeserved praise–some of it from you–I think you give too little credit to the bravery of “artists” who put themselves out in public in the current social-economic milieu. Santa Cruz built its artistic reputation in an era when a fuzzy dream, enthusiasm and a modicum of talent put one on the bottom rung of a ladder that led to respectable public achievement.India Joze started with a $40 investment in a big pot, and even managed to get legal in a couple of years. 52 years ago.Restaurants by their very nature open themselves to the whole range of public, private, professional and financially-interested criticism (people who sold me ads, you know who you are.) Overly generous criticism can point out directions for growth as well as defraud folks of their time and money. So much of the early SC arts scene was effectively, if not intentionally, volunteer driven. The bright spots were undeniable and maybe, just maybe, some of them were there for people other than yourself. I have always felt that “Thanks!” was the only legitimate response to someone’s delight in something I put out which I felt had grievous shortcomings. Certainly, not a thorough evisceration of their ignorant presumption. It’s deeply gratifying to be aware of, and uphold, the excellence of one’s standards, honed through years of immersion in one’s field. The arts can be nourishment for all, not just a guide to self-pleasure for the few. That said, I have always appreciated CW’s clear sense that some experiences are more nourishing than others. And we live in a community where $30 is worth close to ….the nothing of our former times.
I appreciate you bringing up this topic – I’m sick of high praise for mediocrity as well. Besides – higher development comes from critqiue. Thanks Christina!
As an artist (photographer), I always appreciate insight from those who have a better eye than I do. It helps me grow and improve — which is what I want to do. On the other hand, I’ve seen self-appointed critics (I’m thinking of a particular online artists’ site) tear down every aspect of someone’s work and tell them they’ll never succeed. Ouch! I stand up against critics who do that to others. There’s no need to stomp on someone’s work with such relish. Be honest, but for Pete’s sake, don’t be cruel.
I recall my first photography instructor in junior college. My work was amateur because I was a beginner, but it was heartfelt, and I put my best efforts into my work. Instead of giving constructive criticism, my instructor said to give it up because I’d never be any good. I ended up majoring in photography under a very encouraging professor, graduating with honors. Suppose I’d given up based on a single unnecessary condemnation of my talent. That ain’t me, but others can be so discouraged that they skulk away.
All artists have produced crappy work. I certainly have. And I know accomplished artists who still have their stumbles. It’s part of experimenting, or pushing your own boundaries. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Or maybe it partly works, and you can take that into your next piece. Not all of us can become masters of our particular art medium, but we still can produce music or paintings or sculptures or photographs that show perception and creativity, even if they don’t show genius.
Most of us have attended symphony concerts, rock music festivals, operas, plays, and other performances and exhibitions. I don’t think we attend because we always expect perfection… or even to like all the pieces. I think we attend because we want the experience… the live performance, the ability to see actual brush strokes, the emotional sweep, the camaraderie of attending an event with other humans.
Science says that these events are beneficial for our emotional well being. I practically faint seeing the actual work of Degas and Giotto and Leonardo. If we didn’t want that group experience… that sense of “being there”… that sense of being up close with the things that set us apart from other life forms… then we may as well stay home and look at reproductions in an art book or listen to CDs while we speed down the highway.
True… not all attempts at art are worthy of praise. Nor are all attempts at cooking, dancing, soccer, singing, or doing anything else we enjoy. But we can be honest without shattering someone’s emotions. Supporting their attempts at art can mean offering honest reflection. So can asking questions … “What inspired this?” “Is there a story behind this?” “Do you see places where you could improve?” And of course, “interesting” is a good response even if you can’t think of anything nice to say.
PS — I agree with Susan Willats about the standing ovation. It no longer means anything when it’s given out to everyone.