On Musical Form: Is one way better than another?

18 August 2010 by pcNielsen 1 Comment

The one session I didn’t go to at the Hutchmoot was the one dealing with song. I am a fan of music, but my back was not a fan of sitting any longer on that particular day.

Later the same day, however, I got the chance to ask one of the many musicians hanging around at the moot a question I’ve had for a while now:

Why does so much new music follow more or less the same form?

That form goes something like this: verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-verse-chorus. Years ago I noticed that my own musical interests were going a different direction from the norm. I grew up listening, well, to what my friends were listening too, and then migrated to loud “Christian music” because I wanted to be more holy, and then in college began to develop my own ear, so to speak, for music. You can see a little more about this progression in the Soundtrack of My Life.

The musician’s answer was interrupted by someone wanting to buy a CD, but the long and short of his response was that that I was out of the ordinary as an artist and thus making these kinds of observations, and that the form is used in order to make it easier for listeners to remember the songs. He made it pretty clear musicians, in general, in Nashville, want people to easily recall their music.

I did learn something in the brief little conversation, but I still have questions. Shouldn’t musicians be working imaginatively with musical form though as “artists?” Shouldn’t they be creating things that are memorable in new ways? The musician I talked to pointed out some successful diversion from the common popular form, but they still seemed like a simplistic solution in my untrained opinion.

Are a lot of musicians creating for the lowest common denominator?

I’m also trying to figure out if the idea of memorability enters into the mind and process of a visual artist, a painter or a sculptor. It never has for me that I recall, not in the way that the musician in Nashville suggested anyway. Of course, music has a wonderful enigmatic superpower that the other arts just don’t. Our minds are drawn to it in a way they are not necessarily drawn into processing colors on a canvas or words on a page.

An interesting musical contrast to the make-it-memorable-mentality might be Herva, who I wrote about last year in a post titled The importance, and trap, of artistic freedom. Herva wrote

I want to make music with my heart and my hands, to paint or write (or whatever) with my insides (intelligence, spirit, guts, soul) guiding my choices. Will anyone pay for it? I have no idea. Will anyone other than me think it’s good? No clue. But I have to allow myself not to care or worry about that right now. Every creator I’m a fan of creates things oozing in singularity, works that rise out of the sludge due to their originality, clarity, and vision.

This is the opposite end of the spectrum, it would seem, from the person I talked to in Tennessee. Is there a right kind of way to make music? Is there a correct way to paint a painting? Or should the questions be reworded, “Is there a better way to make music, or a painting?”

Filed under Art, Business of art, Modern culture

On pricing art, art as a hobby, art in the church . . .

16 July 2010 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

Another great article from Comment to highlight today that talks about pricing art and art as job vs. art as hobby. A few quotes to highlight and respond to, and then a link to point you to the writing in its entirety.

I had a professor in my first year of college tell us fresh-faced art majors that if there was anything in the entire world that we could imagine doing besides art, we should do that other thing, because art was just too difficult to pursue without an unwavering dedication. He was right, and those of us that stuck with it knew we had been duly warned about what we were getting into. In a sense, the moment we decided not to change majors, we relinquished our right to whine about being underappreciated or undercompensated. What we did receive, however, was a new responsibility regarding stewardship of the discipline into which we had been adopted.

We talked about pricing a couple of times, but I wasn’t blessed with this kind of accurate bluntness at the beginning of my art schooling. (Does this mean I still get to whine about being underappreciated or undercompensated?) Of course, I sort of eased into my studio art major through pre-architecture, and then graphic design.

On more about doing that other thing besides art, read this post.

The one conversation I really remember on pricing was Eddie Dominguez telling us why his dinnerware was priced as high as it was. Paraphrased as I remember it: “I’d rather sell one platter at $10,000 and have nine to give away than sell ten platters for $1,000.”

Crafting images and objects can legitimately operate as both a form of recreation and a means of cultural reorganization and critique. Making things in order to enjoyably pass a Sunday afternoon, and making things in order to operate as lenses for interpreting the meaning of the world, are both justified endeavours—but they are not the same endeavour. The problem is that distinguishing between the two is complicated by an insidiously ordinary similarity in material and posture. If we imagine two people standing before two blank canvasses with brushes and paints at the ready, how are we to know which one is trying to unwind after a long week, and which one is trying to change the world?

Castleman, the author, describes the difference between art-as-vocation vs. art-as-hobby better than anyone I’ve seen so far, and tactfully too. I’d been thinking about this distinction more and more recently, and his writing on the topic puts my mind at ease.

This article may serve as a personal manifesto of sorts for me. Most of Castleman’s thoughts aren’t necessarily new to me, but they are organized in such a way that the piece is very enlightening. I could end up reposting it in its entirety if I keep going with excerpts and brief responses. That said, go read it for yourself: Will Paint for Food

Filed under Art, Art and faith, Business of art, Christianity

Respecting your audience as an artist

7 March 2010 by pcNielsen 5 Comments

Laura Tokie wrote an interesting article over at The Curator last week titled Art Meets Town. There are two things from the article I’d like to talk about.

The first, and more interesting, is that of respecting your audience as an artist. Don’t deny it now: As artists we can be snobs. We sometimes think our own opinions — and not necessarily just on artistic matters — are better than the commoners, so to speak, around us. Tokie uses Squidward as an example of this in pop culture.

She then talks about the founders of the Williamston Theatre in contrast to such snobbery.

    The professional artists at the Williamston Theatre are nothing like Squidward. The founders are big-pond tested Midwesterners who love the small-town way of life, and believe that art can be a thread in the greater fabric of a community.

    With this belief, the Williamston Theatre challenges attitudes held by many so-called artists, as well as so-called regular people. Some artists assume that they know what “the common man” likes, and dismiss their interests and opinions.

I’ve been a snob in the past, and sometimes I probably still am. I haven’t been able to figure out exactly why this mentality seems so prevalent among artists (though if we want we could use Art School Confidential‘s suggestions), but ever since my wife pointed it out — let’s all be grateful for this kind of marital accountability — I’ve earnestly tried to change my perspective. In all likelihood, my musings (and problems) with the idea of artist as genius are a result of this attempt to loose myself from these chains of egocentrism.

The process by which the Williamston Theatre came into being is worth noting. Instead of just diving into the project, there was talk beforehand with city officials. This was followed by readings in local businesses in order to build relationships and gain support. “The four founders of the theatre didn’t want to thrust art upon the town, but rather tell stories with, for, and about their audiences,” the author notes.

Williamston, Michigan is a small town, and what I don’t quite understand in Tokie’s article is her apparent belief that artists must be “big-pond tested” — which I take to mean that the artists at the theatre were vetted by the big city — before being considered worthwhile.

    Squidward represents all that is bad with small-town artistes. They want to be special, the standard-bearers of all that is culturally excellent, but look down on the very people who could be their audience. They yearn for “these people” to be more refined and sophisticated. Ironically, some are not talented. There’s a reason they never tried to make it in the big city.

I’m really trying not to be irked by the last comment in this quote, trying to understand where she’s coming from. However, to me it sounds a lot like the same kind of elitism that she’s trying to debunk by lauding the Williamson Theatre. Yes, there is a cultural understanding that as an artist you aren’t somebody until you make it in the big city. However, quality of craft or concept are simply not directly tied to big city living or galleries. And if she thinks they are, I’d really like to hear her rational for that.

Filed under Art, Business of art, Living incarnationally, Patronage

Day job artists in Europe

18 February 2010 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

An excerpt from a good article in the Guardian:

    But none of these scenarios will ring true for the average artist – who is more likely to be stacking supermarket shelves, waiting tables or writing ­advertising copy by day, and acting, dancing or sculpting by night.

    Right now, the economic climate for artists in this country looks particularly bleak. There’s the innate financial ­instability of most artistic careers (low earnings, and sometimes none at all; little job security; no pension or other benefits), together with the recession. Then there’s the fact that – ­unlike some European and Scandinavian countries – the British government makes no ­specific social provision for artists, ­unless through the publicly funded ­regional arts councils.

    In Denmark, for instance, 275 artists are granted an annual stipend of ­between 15,000 and 149,000 Danish krone (£1,750 to £17,000) every year for the rest of their lives. In France, public funds are awarded through regional bodies not unlike our arts councils, ­except that the range of awards is much greater: artists in the Ile-de-France ­region, which includes Paris, can, for instance, claim up to ¤7,500 (£6,545) specifically to equip their studios.

    But in this country, for artists without a lucky early break, rich parents or ­benefactors, a day job is often the only way to survive. It needn’t mean that fame and fortune aren’t just around the corner: Joy Division’s Ian Curtis worked in an unemployment office until 1979, well after the band had released their debut EP. Van Morrison immortalised his old job as a window cleaner in the 1982 song Cleaning Windows; composer Philip Glass wasn’t able to quit his jobs as a plumber and a taxi-driver until the age of 41.

    What a day job inevitably means, of course, is spending the majority of your waking hours not doing the thing you love: making art.

Via the Curator.

Filed under Art, Business of art

“Art was not made for evangelism”

9 February 2010 by pcNielsen 3 Comments

This is an H.R. Rookmaaker quote that I read on Rebecca Horton’s Passionately Alive blog quite a few months ago. It’s chalk full of pithy goodness on a few different topics.

    So there are many strange problems in our culture. We have to think and work to solve these problems. They are not just Christian problems but problems of culture in general; many people are working on them, and no one has yet been able to find a solution. Now, the solution is never just a little book or a little definition or a little plan, and it will certainly take one or two generations to accomplish. The answer is not another kind of utilitarian art, Christian utilitarian art, because we shouldn’t be prostituting art to become something it was never made to be. Art was not made for evangelism. We should start a new development that bridges the gaps and solves the problem of the unreality of art in the museum. But first we have to pose the right questions. However, we are only just beginning to see those questions.

Filed under Art, Art and faith, Business of art, Christianity, Creative catalyst, Living incarnationally, Modern culture, Public art

Should artists learn a trade?

6 February 2010 by pcNielsen 4 Comments

Been pretty quiet the past few weeks here on the blog eh?

Bloggy buddy and painter Jim Janknegt has suggested in the past that art students should be taught a trade while earning their degree. I like this idea. It makes use of artists’ natural ability to work with their hands while acknowledging how difficult it is to make a living as a painter or sculptor, especially right out of college. Even if the overly idealistic students don’t want to acknowledge the fact. Furthermore, trades generally pay more than other jobs aspiring artists often end up in. And we all like a little more in the paychecks.

The absence on the blog is thanks to a new full time job. I’m working in a trade again. I have a little bit of experience in quite a few different trades: Landscaping, offset printing, woodworking, a variety of building trades including framing, wiring and painting. My new gig is with a painter, someone I actually helped out for a couple of summers while in college.

I’m also still working for M-DAT. Between the two I have very little time left in a day. The plan at this point is to focus intently on my sculpture on the weekends. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how soon I can build myself a soda kiln, and if I can make it somewhat portable. I don’t need a large one, and I already have some salvaged brick that can help out.

A friend recently counted the friends he has who are currently without jobs, and they numbered ten. So, regardless, I’m grateful for the work.

Filed under Art, Art education, Business of art, Ceramics

More on part-time artistry

16 January 2010 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

Revisiting this topic since it’s fresh in my mind: I had a conversation a week or two ago with a central Nebraska artist about how difficult it can be an artist part-time, and how difficult it is to convey this to non-artists. She also mentioned that creativity doesn’t really function as a hobby in the mind of an aspiring artist. In the past when I talked about this I used the phrase hard-wired. Artists are hard-wired to pursue creative endeavors.

A useful idea related to part-time artistry from fellow blogger and painter Jim Janknegt:

    That sounds like a good plan. I find that when I treat my painting as a job with regular hours I get a lot of work done. Have a set time to show up at the easel and don’t let anybody interfere. When you work for an employer you don’t let your family or household demands keep you from showing up for work on time. Let it be the same with your painting.

Filed under Art, Business of art

The importance, and trap, of artistic freedom

17 December 2009 by pcNielsen 3 Comments

My freedom will be so much the greater and more meaningful
the more narrowly I limit my field of action
and the more I surround myself with obstacles.
Whatever diminishes constraint, diminishes strength.
The more constraints one imposes,
the more one frees one’s self of the chains that shackle the spirit.

Artistic freedom is important, and tricky. From it comes both great and enduring artwork as well as works that are easy to deride. Artists themselves will mostly poo-poo any kind of limitations, crying foul, claiming the great scapegoat of censorship. Their peers who willingly work within certain limiting factors (i.e. a commissioned work) are often branded as sell-outs.

The importance of artistic freedom
From the Herva blog, a post titled Artistic freedom and the trap of success:

    Most of my adult life I’ve been trying to figure out where my creative output “fit.” This is bull kaka. At least for me it is. If I wanted to be a craftsman, worker for hire, to create towards someone else’s need this would be fine. But I don’t. I want to express my vision, to create out of my soul and to make exist things that I would like to see/hear/read. So why bother trying to fit in anywhere?

    . . . Forget “fitting in.” AND, just as importantly, forget success. For now, I just want to create with as few constraints as I am mentally and physically able. I want to make music with my heart and my hands, to paint or write (or whatever) with my insides (intelligence, spirit, guts, soul) guiding my choices. Will anyone pay for it? I have no idea. Will anyone other than me think it’s good? No clue. But I have to allow myself not to care or worry about that right now. Every creator I’m a fan of creates things oozing in singularity, works that rise out of the sludge due to their originality, clarity, and vision. I don’t see the words acceptance or money in that last sentence at all. Do I hope that in doing this some “success” will come eventually? Sure. But in the making of it, in the actual creation, I want freedom.

Allowing artists this kind of freedom is important, it’s important in relationship to the cultural implications of art. Artists are observers. Their paintings and sculptures are responses to their environments: Built environs, social environs, relationships and so on. These responses create a cultural and historical record in a way no textbook will ever be able to.

Further, art should challenge us from time to time — as a culture and as individuals. For this to happen, an artist needs the freedom to venture outside of our expectations, outside of our comfort zones (and often their own). Paintings aren’t just for looking pretty and coordinating with the new couch. Remember the dangers of sentimental creativity.

The trap of artistic freedom
Artistic freedom is also tricky. It’s easy to abuse the responsibility inherent in that freedom, to adopt an anything goes mentality and create to simply push the limits, sensationalize. Attempt to gain attention, fame. To go after success and money (which is valid to a point). The trouble is the only guidelines for artistic freedom are vague, unwritten social cues. They’re not something a person can put down in black and white.

But they are still there.

Such freedom can also distract an artist; artists need some focus with their freedom. At the same time they need, for instance, the ability to explore a wide range of media and push those media to their limits, an artist needs to develop their craft. Whether they like to admit it or not, craft is an inherent part of every artwork. To become proficient — and (in theory anyway) gain respect and a voice — in a craft takes discipline. Discipline is, in essence, a set of rules, whether imposed by self or others.

Rules that will at first guide will then grow with the potential to be broken.

Process
Says Sarah Jane of the Faith and Foolishness blog, “The artistic process feels at times like a many-layered friend, whose complexities I have come to understand through long acquaintance, and who occasionally still manages to surprise me. I have great trust in this faithful and mysterious companion.”

Process will be different for every individual artist. Some will work better with more structure, such as Stravinsky. Others will create their best work with a lot of freedom, like Herva. Finding a balance, personally, is always more difficult than picking one or the other, but it must be done.

Filed under Art, Business of art, Censorship, Craft, Imagination

New clay forum

7 November 2009 by pcNielsen Leave a Comment

Matthew Katz of the Slipcast blog bluntly encourages ceramic artists to talk amongst ourselves in a new clay forum, PotteryChat.org. Katz laments the lack other such useful discussion forums; there is just one other that I know of — which he eludes to in his post — which has been around for many years but is dinosaurously archaic and therefore very difficult to use.

PotteryChat is very new and thus kind of slow at the moment which is partly why I’m posting the news again (even though you might have already seen it). Go join the forum! And visit it regularly. It has the potential to be a great resource and networking tool if we make use of it.

Also remember that I’m moving most of my studio related posts over to the blog on pcNielsen.com. I may cross post for a while so that everyone has a chance make note of this.

Filed under Business of art, Ceramics

Art collectors buying locally

2 November 2009 by pcNielsen 1 Comment

From a recent Wall Street Journal article titled Local Artists Are on the Rise:

    From Bloomfield Hills, Mich., to Turin, Italy, contemporary-art collectors are passing on works by international art stars and skipping far-flung art fairs and auctions. This year, they’re buying local.

    In Detroit, major collector and steel company executive Gary Wasserman says he’s stopped buying works by England’s Anish Kapoor and China’s Yue Minjun so he can focus more on buying “powerfully Midwestern” art by artists like Brian Carpenter, whose $1,000 photographs often feature images of dead deer, Lake Erie nuclear reactors and snowy footprints.

This is encouraging to me. It harkens back to my interest in seeing local art and artists working and making a living (or at least part of a living) from their work in a local context. There’s nothing wrong with marketing and selling art nationally or globally. However, there’s good reason for artists to work out of their immediate environment both by allowing it to influence their work — artists are by nature people who observe their surroundings — and allowing their work to influence the local culture. Incarnational living is the phrase I’ve used to describe this kind of attitude in past entries.

In her book Dakota, author Kathleen Norris laments how few artists were living and working in the Dakotas in the early 90s. She worried, rightly, that their Plains culture would be lost without poets and painters working out of and in the midst of the people there.

Prominent collectors purchasing from local painters, sculptors and architects helps validate local cultures in a day and age when said cultures become more and more muddled. From the Old World Swine blog last week:

    The problem with American culture is that it is built on relativism that says any culture is as good as the next, and all the cultures have been banged around together for so long in the relativistic Melting Pot that they are hardly distinguishable from one another. They have been ground to bits, and the distinct edges worn off. Rather than inheriting a coherent and organic culture, each individual makes his or her own culture by picking and choosing whatever broken bits of other cultures they find appealing at the moment.

While I would change the terminology in his first sentence to say “any culture is the same as the rest” — which is what I think he meant — writer Tim Jones’ point is well-established. There is still color in local cultures if you look hard enough, but big business in America has worked tirelessly over the past few decades to root it out. Big-box retailers, fast-food franchises and our own insatiable consumerist pursuit of the latest factory built goods has left us with a largely monochromatic national landscape. “Haven’t we been here before, Rocky?” Bullwinkle asks as the two cartoon characters drive across America in their most recent film. I can understand why you’d think that Bullwinkle.

Let’s hope the trend to buy from local artists continues and isn’t simply a reaction to an art market bubble.

Filed under Art, Business of art, Intentional observation, Modern culture

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