Hand-coloring
Here are two of the etchings from before, only with hand-coloring. I don’t have the spider web one here because I was experimenting with the sky and, well, screwed it up (the plate is fine, but I just don’t have a clean version of the image right now). But you can see the other two:
Thinking about “personal narrative”
I spent some time online looking at different art sites, just sort of reading some of the latest blogs and comments people have posted to them. One thing I kept discovering is how many people very proudly declare that they don’t like personal narrative in work. I understand that this is a valid point of view, one that is actually held by the majority within the art world. I was just startled by it, because I couldn’t disagree more.
Again, I 100% accept that this is a valid point of view. But to my mind, if I wasn’t doing something involving personal narrative, I would feel as though I was doing design – not art. I would feel this sort of clinical remove from my work (which I know is something I was encouraged to find when I was in art school) that would be ok, but ultimately meaningless to me. At the point at which I think of removing the personal from my work, I may as well be a graphic designer (nothing wrong with that of course, but you’re working on assignment and the stakes are very different).
Without some kind of personal narrative – even something tangential and distant – I’m not sure what deep personal investment there can be in an artmaking practice, and without that, I’m not sure I know what the point is. I tend to view everything through the lens of the personal – I adore Conceptual art, but even that I always bring back to, Ok, why did the artist make this, why are they interested in Saussure or whatever, what lead them to this point, and what did they get out of making this work? It’s the person I’m interested in, not so much the idea – the idea is a way to get at the person, but that’s all it is. To me.
Catalog!
Hey, I have (along with the very generous help of my intern Katie) put together a new, self-published catalog of recent works!
It’s a collection of drawings and artist’s books that I made from 2007 – until just before the summer. I’ve had many people ask me over the years if I had a catalog available and… well, now I do.
And what’s more, the company that I printed it through is having a sale! Yes! If you go to order one and type in the coupon code BEACHREAD305 (hey, I don’t make the coupon codes!), you’ll get 15% off the cover price of $23. You have to order between now and August 15th to get the discount.
Anyway, I’m really happy with how it came out!
Newest etchings
Ok, I’m starting to get the hang of this etching thing. I feel like I sort of get it now… not that I really 100% know what I’m doing (far from it) but more that I have a sense of, at least to a certain extent, what you can do with etching.
So, playing around, here are the keepers:
The plates are 4 x 6, so to make these tiny little lines, I had to make a tool fashioned out of a sewing needle taped to a chopstick. Actually, there are several that I made, in different size gauge needles. I like that anxious, scratchy line a lot, and the way in which you can get just so much detail.
I’m not actually printing these. I work on the plate, then turn it over to Shannon to finish. But working on the plates is pretty fun.
Some thoughts on creativity and mental illness
I recently saw the movie The Devil and Daniel Johnston and it got me thinking.
I teach a class at SVA on the intersection of drugs, alcohol, mental illness, and creativity, and the life story of Johnston has all of these things in spades. The question I am constantly asked by people both in the art world and outside of it is one that I think none of us is very comfortable with, namely: Is there a connection between “insanity” and creativity; aka, Do you have to be crazy to be a good artist?
I have certainly struggled with my mental health issues over my life, so this is a question I personally come back to over and over. Here’s my latest thinking:
I don’t think that creativity and “craziness” (whether fueled by drugs, biology, trauma, whatever) are necessarily connected in the sense that one fuels the other. People who would not at all be considered “crazy” are creative all the time – our lives are filled with a million acts of creativity, whether they’re a choice of what to wear today or what to make for dinner, or the doodles we make on a scrap sheet of paper while on the phone.
But here’s where the connection does actually come in. I think that being in that “crazy” state is what fuels the kind of work ethic, ambition, and molotov cocktail of self-doubt and self-confidence needed to actually create, in a sustained sort of a way, an extensive body of work.
So for instance, in the film, we are shown that in his early years Johnston worked a crappy job at McDonald’s, basically washing tables. For most people, this would mean total demoralization. They would go home and cry, or try and take classes somewhere to get to a better place professionally, or dull their senses by watching hours upon hours of mindless television. Instead, Johnston goes home and makes music and records cassettes of it that he gives to people he likes at the McDonald’s. He can’t afford the kind of machine you need to dub tapes, so in order to have a steady supply of tapes to give away, he has to re-record his album over and over and over again.
That is totally crazy. Not writing the music, not being a stellar performer or a gifted pianist; the act of going home and not taking the hint that the world just wants you to curl up and go far away – that is the very definition of insanity. It’s also that sort of doggedness that has made Johnston so successful in many senses of the word.
People who have mental illness issues are used to doing this sort of thing. When I think about my own life, there are so many times that I’ve been so out of step with what everyone else is thinking or caring about, that after a certain point it doesn’t matter. You know, I’m used to people looking at me and telling me I’m crazy. And I am. And really, so what? So it means that I’m free to do something without fear of getting that label.
Today is an absolutely beautiful day, one of our first beautiful days in quite a while. I am spending it indoors, methodically scratching at a 4 x 6 copper plate with a sewing needle, making something that will eventually be an etching. The entire right side of my body hurts like hell, because I have spent the last two days (all day, hour upon hour) doing this same thing. But that’s ok, because honestly? My body always hurts. It’s probably as much psychosomatic as it is muscle fatigue. And even though I know that there’s a good chance these etchings might not turn out at all (I’m a newbie and well, you never know) I can’t think of anything I would rather do with this beautiful Sunday than pour more hours into this project. A normal person would suggest to go slow – see how the first ones turn out, then proceed from there. But I’m not normal; I’m crazy. And as a result, I’m used to screwing up all the time. So if I screw this up – so what? Just another thing to pick myself up from. And maybe in the process, I’ll actually do something really good.
New prints
I started working with Shannon Broder yesterday, who is going to be printing some etchings for me. This is very, very preliminary, but here’s a sneak peak:
Teaser post
I’m working on a bunch of projects that are all going to come together at once… trust me on this. Ok, I don’t quite believe it myself, but it’s true. Really.
Here’s a shot of a small book I editioned which is part of all that:
A few notes on the business of art
This post is a little different from the kind of thing I’ve been writing lately, but I thought it might be helpful to young artists out there. Some of my absolutely favorite students have graduated over the last couple of years, which means that I’ve been getting pleas for advice on how to navigate through this crazy art world of ours. I can’t say I’m an expert by any means; it’s one big learning process and you have to sort of make it up as you go along, adjusting and adapting all the time.
What I’ve written below are a few things I have learned from either bad experiences of my own when I was starting out – and they’re exactly the sort of thing I hear my students going through. And if there’s any way that by my going through some shit I can prevent you from going through some shit, well, that would be just great.
So, I’ve tried to write this in open enough language that it can be applied to freelancing or showing your work, or even other situations, but here are some red-flags that should let you know to be cautious. Obviously, you have to judge every opportunity as it comes to you and there are no hard-and-fast rules. But that’s why it’s a red-flag – it’s an indication that maybe something is wrong, so you need to find out more before you blindly proceed on faith:
1. You are asked to work for free, or to participate in an exhibition you normally wouldn’t, or to pay for something you usually wouldn’t, under the theory that “It will be good exposure for your work.”
Whenever anyone uses the expression “it will be good exposure for your work,” alarm bells ought to go off in your head – it is probably the phrase most overused by sleazeballs in the art world. It is entirely possible that the person telling you this is correct; on the other hand, a lot of disreputable people hide behind this very vague assertion as a way to screw over young artists. Artists are known for doing anything to get exposure to their work, including but not limited to paying people to represent them (yes, this happens) and appearing in really crappy reality tv shows.
If someone says that your participation in something would be “good exposure,” you should ask them how and inquire about the specifics. No one worth working with will be intimidated or put off by your questions if you ask them politely (even if they’re pointed questions); most people looking to rip you off will find their stories falling apart under scrutiny. Think about what sort of audience you want for your work, and what sort of audience you will get in exchange for this opportunity.
2. You are asked to accept less money than you would reasonably expect for your work, under the assumption that if things work out, you’ll be working together a lot or “this could lead to future gigs”.
Right. See, the thing is that this is a really crappy way to start out a business relationship. Instead of starting it out with everyone being really honest with what they need and want, you have a situation where the artist is bending over backwards to help out the businessperson who, in exchange, has absolutely no obligation to help out the artist long-term.
Think of it this way: Would you ever start out a romantic relationship with someone where you tell them, “For our first date, we can do whatever you want to do, as long as you promise me you’ll keep me in mind for other dates?”
(Now, bear in mind that young artists do have to build up portfolios and client bases and do have to be flexible and supportive of other young people out there trying to make a go of their businesses and that sort of thing, but the good rule of thumb to use is this: Does this situation make you feel gross? Like you’ve been used? Because if it does, don’t do it. No amount of future work will ever make that gross feeling go away. Do you feel good about the project; is it the sort of thing you genuinely want to do and you’re just bending a bit to help out someone who you know well and have a real connection to? In that case, it might be ok to do this.)
3. You ask the gallery/dealer/client for some kind of written-out agreement for what has been discussed between you two, and the gallery/dealer/client either: A. rolls his or her eyes and sighs deeply; B. exclaims, “That’s not how we do business in the real world!” and makes you feel incredibly awkward for even asking; or C. refuses to do it.
If any of the above options (or a combination thereof): Run. Run as fast as you can from that place and don’t ever look back, except to warn your friends.
The truth of the matter is that contracts and written agreements are rarely used in the art world. This is not a good business practice, but it’s honestly what happens. However, if you want to have a written out agreement of what has been discussed in terms of pricing, commission, and so forth (and you should want this, at least early in your relationship with the person you’re working with), it’s your right to have it and no one should make you feel crappy for requesting it. It’s 100% reasonable and the whole thing should take about five minutes to do. And do you really want to work with someone who can’t be bothered to give you five minutes of their time?
4. The gallery/dealer/client goes way out of his or her way to point out what a favor they are doing for you by working with you.
Again, to put it in dating terms, would you ever date anyone who says, “Sure, I’ll go out with you – but just to be clear, I’m doing you a huge favor because you’re really beneath me”?
The truth is, galleries put a lot on the line when they take on an artist, but the same is true about artists who join a gallery (substitute dealer or client for gallery as you see fit). What we’re talking about is a mutually beneficial situation for all parties, or it’s one that’s highly dysfunctional – it’s one or the other, period. Either both you and the person you’re working with get something good out of the deal or you should both walk away.
Organizing
I’m spending the morning trying to get this place together a bit. I stripped the couch and I’m washing the pillowcovers and, erm, this happened:
Hey, I’m writing a longish article about questions that are frequently asked of me by recent grads about art business practices. Hopefully I will post that later tonight, once my other tasks are out of the way.
6/26/10: Amy drops the ball
Alas. My post-a-day thing came to a crashing halt yesterday when I fell asleep without blogging about… something.
No matter. I think it’s time for me to go back to just blogging when I have new stuff to put up. I am so close to being done with about a dozen new projects and I’m psyched to show them to you. I just don’t really have anything else I want to talk about or think about right now.
So, stay tuned. I’ll update this at least once a week, probably more.
Oh! One last thing! I’m trying to bulk up my mailing list a bit. If you’d like to be on it, click here. I will only send out 2-3 emails a year tops, so don’t worry about being overloaded with spam from me. 
