Rafael
Mandlerian
OK folks, let's get this discussion off the ground. The book we are discussing is Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. I want to begin by thanking Gregg for proposing this book. I had not read this book before. And, without the impetus provided by the book club, I likely wouldn't have picked it up. So I am grateful to all of you for giving me the push to read Art and Fear.
I have three initial comments to make about the book. Firstly, I was interested to read it, at least in significant part, because I have never really thought of myself as an artist. In my own mind, I have tended to distinguish artists who work with photographic media from photographers. I have never thought of this as a value-laden distinction. I simply think of myself as a photographer but not really as an artist. So I was interested to read the first part of Art and Fear and to discover the extent to which the problems discussed by the authors do apply to my own photography.
As an aside, I was also struck by the ways that this book indirectly challenges another dichotomy: namely the famous "gear-head vs. photographer" distinction that is bandied about so often on RFF. Bayles and Orland seem to suggest that careful attention to the ways that different types of equipment can be used to communicate the artist's vision is an integral aspect of being an artist. Hmm, food for thought...
Secondly, I was struck by the optimism of the authors. I'm still not sure how fully I share this optimism. But I must confess to finding no small comfort in their optimistic appraisal of the average individual's capacity to develop into an artist.
Thirdly, I want to highlight a passage that really grabbed me when I read it. On pp.91-92, the authors argue, "for the working artist, the very best writings on art are not analytical or chronological; they are autobiographical." Quite apart from the fact that this assertion sits well with my own love of autobiographies, I found the emphasis on process over product that runs throughout this book to be very thought-provoking.
OK, let's hear from others. What are your initial thoughts on this book?
NOTE: Mods, would one of you please "un-stickify" the Book Club #1 thread and "stickify" this one? Thanks very much.
I have three initial comments to make about the book. Firstly, I was interested to read it, at least in significant part, because I have never really thought of myself as an artist. In my own mind, I have tended to distinguish artists who work with photographic media from photographers. I have never thought of this as a value-laden distinction. I simply think of myself as a photographer but not really as an artist. So I was interested to read the first part of Art and Fear and to discover the extent to which the problems discussed by the authors do apply to my own photography.
As an aside, I was also struck by the ways that this book indirectly challenges another dichotomy: namely the famous "gear-head vs. photographer" distinction that is bandied about so often on RFF. Bayles and Orland seem to suggest that careful attention to the ways that different types of equipment can be used to communicate the artist's vision is an integral aspect of being an artist. Hmm, food for thought...
Secondly, I was struck by the optimism of the authors. I'm still not sure how fully I share this optimism. But I must confess to finding no small comfort in their optimistic appraisal of the average individual's capacity to develop into an artist.
Thirdly, I want to highlight a passage that really grabbed me when I read it. On pp.91-92, the authors argue, "for the working artist, the very best writings on art are not analytical or chronological; they are autobiographical." Quite apart from the fact that this assertion sits well with my own love of autobiographies, I found the emphasis on process over product that runs throughout this book to be very thought-provoking.
OK, let's hear from others. What are your initial thoughts on this book?
NOTE: Mods, would one of you please "un-stickify" the Book Club #1 thread and "stickify" this one? Thanks very much.
ClaremontPhoto
Jon Claremont
I had missed this Book Club suggestion and am most pleased to find this thread by chance.
Last year I read the book, and have since recommended it to others.
Now I'll read it again and return here in a few days.
[Please nobody suggest Magnum Magnum for the next book: I can't afford it!]
Last year I read the book, and have since recommended it to others.
Now I'll read it again and return here in a few days.
[Please nobody suggest Magnum Magnum for the next book: I can't afford it!]
Rafael
Mandlerian
I'm glad that you will be joining us Jon. I should have mentioned in my initial post that all are welcome to join the discussion.
ClaremontPhoto
Jon Claremont
What I got from this book is that I can make photos for myself; not to please others.
People in general like 'pretty' photos of landmarks and monuments. I like regular people, dumpsters, derelict buildings and so on.
The book helped me to articulate that, and say to people who pointed out the pretty daisies in front of the castle "No, that's not my kind of photo".
People in general like 'pretty' photos of landmarks and monuments. I like regular people, dumpsters, derelict buildings and so on.
The book helped me to articulate that, and say to people who pointed out the pretty daisies in front of the castle "No, that's not my kind of photo".
R
RML
Guest
I recently read the book, too.
Sitemistic already mentions the unapologetic tone about making art. I myself hold/held two views: 1) I make something I call art but isn't really art, and 2) real artist make art, something I'm not. After reading this book I'm now trying to come to terms with the notion that art is what I define it to be, and that I am an artist too. And that making art does not necessarily mean I have to withdraw from my current "normal" life.
And Jon mentions the "for me" part I found in the book. My art will never please everyone. All I can do is make my art and hope it appeals to others. Picasso and Braque (sp?) weren't particularly popular artists when they invented Cubism and had to endure obscurity and negativity for a long time.
Speaking of Picasso, if there is one person I can take example from it is Pablo. He was an artist, made his own art, and lived a lifestyle incomparable to the poor artist lifestyle we're spoon-fed to believe.
Sitemistic already mentions the unapologetic tone about making art. I myself hold/held two views: 1) I make something I call art but isn't really art, and 2) real artist make art, something I'm not. After reading this book I'm now trying to come to terms with the notion that art is what I define it to be, and that I am an artist too. And that making art does not necessarily mean I have to withdraw from my current "normal" life.
And Jon mentions the "for me" part I found in the book. My art will never please everyone. All I can do is make my art and hope it appeals to others. Picasso and Braque (sp?) weren't particularly popular artists when they invented Cubism and had to endure obscurity and negativity for a long time.
Speaking of Picasso, if there is one person I can take example from it is Pablo. He was an artist, made his own art, and lived a lifestyle incomparable to the poor artist lifestyle we're spoon-fed to believe.
Rafael
Mandlerian
I was very interested by the authors' repeated emphasis on the nature of art-making as opposed to the nature of art. And I agree that they provide a compelling argument for putting aside many of the doubts that regularly plague artists, particularly doubts about whether or not one is really making art at all. Like you Remy, I came to this book not thinking of myself as an artist. And, though it did not fully convince me to change my self-perception, the book certainly forced me to realize that many concerns that I have about my photography are - or can be thought of as - concerns about making art.
The authors' optimism about the prospects for aspiring or developing artists really stuck with me. And I must confess that I find their optimism both comforting and appealing. However, I do wonder whether it is at all overblown. What do the rest of you think?
My concern is that the authors' repeated claim that art-making is mostly a matter of getting up every day and producing art overshadows the necessity and difficulty of learning from that process. To my mind, the individual who carries a camera everywhere and takes similarly bad photographs every day is not an artist. And yet, I can see how such an individual could read this book and come away feeling confirmed as an "artist." (Obviously, I am not writing of any specific individual here.)
I certainly agree that a discussion of the definition of art is far more elucidating when art (to use the authors' wording) is understood as a verb rather than as a noun. However, I think that this verb describes a far more self-reflexive, self-critical, and difficult process than the authors seem, at times, to suggest. As much as I am drawn to the suggestion that autobiographies of artists are the most useful books to study, I think that there is real benefit to studying great photographs, trying to reproduce aspects of them or of their style, studying your results and trying to understand how and why you failed, trying again, etc.
I am not claiming that the authors' deny the difficulty of the self-criticism that is a necessary part of growing as an artist. But I do think that their optimism about the ordinary individual's ability to become an artist by simply making art every day paints a rosier picture than is warranted. Perhaps being an artist is a matter, not of simply getting up every day and making art, but of coming home every afternoon and throwing away a large portion of the "art" that you made that morning and then getting up the next morning to make art that is better for the previous day's purge.
The authors' optimism about the prospects for aspiring or developing artists really stuck with me. And I must confess that I find their optimism both comforting and appealing. However, I do wonder whether it is at all overblown. What do the rest of you think?
My concern is that the authors' repeated claim that art-making is mostly a matter of getting up every day and producing art overshadows the necessity and difficulty of learning from that process. To my mind, the individual who carries a camera everywhere and takes similarly bad photographs every day is not an artist. And yet, I can see how such an individual could read this book and come away feeling confirmed as an "artist." (Obviously, I am not writing of any specific individual here.)
I certainly agree that a discussion of the definition of art is far more elucidating when art (to use the authors' wording) is understood as a verb rather than as a noun. However, I think that this verb describes a far more self-reflexive, self-critical, and difficult process than the authors seem, at times, to suggest. As much as I am drawn to the suggestion that autobiographies of artists are the most useful books to study, I think that there is real benefit to studying great photographs, trying to reproduce aspects of them or of their style, studying your results and trying to understand how and why you failed, trying again, etc.
I am not claiming that the authors' deny the difficulty of the self-criticism that is a necessary part of growing as an artist. But I do think that their optimism about the ordinary individual's ability to become an artist by simply making art every day paints a rosier picture than is warranted. Perhaps being an artist is a matter, not of simply getting up every day and making art, but of coming home every afternoon and throwing away a large portion of the "art" that you made that morning and then getting up the next morning to make art that is better for the previous day's purge.
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R
RML
Guest
Rafael said:
Interesting formulation.
I'm sure most people who even consider that they make something called art, possess that reflective nature.
That said, what constitutes a bad photograph/art? Even the lousiest of images have a following.
IMO it's not so much getting up the next morning to make better art but to progress/evolve as a human being: having new ideas, following up on them, experiment with them, and get other new ideas. Possessing skills to implement these ideas is a huge bonus but how well-honed these skills need to be for you to progress/evolve is for me as yet a question.
I think the notion of reflection and possessing skills is exactly why most people don't consider themselves artists: they "lack" these abilities. But shedding the notion of lacking them is exactly what the authors argue to be important: you can't please everyone, so better create what you consider art, by whatever means and with whatever abilities you have at hand.
After all, is a sculptor using a jack hammer any better or worse than one who uses a chisel? IMO the answer depends entirely on how the results are perceived by "the audience".
ClaremontPhoto
Jon Claremont
They say in the first few words that they are talking about 'ordinary art', not Mozart.
Rafael
Mandlerian
John, I take the first few lines of the book to refer to the artist, not the art. I don't see that a focus on the ordinary artist - as opposed to the genius - has any necessary implication for the quality of art that the individual produces.
I agree with sitemistic's claim that the authors' central point is that art is made by those who follow certain habits. But, despite the very evident pit-falls of a "what is art" discussion, I just don't see that the discussion is entirely avoidable. To argue that art gets made by those who get up every day and make art is not equivalent to arguing that everyone who gets up every day and makes "art" is in fact an artist.
I think that Remy's point about human growth as an important aspect of being an artist is very well taken. And I do agree that the drive to make art should be an internal and personal drive to make art in one's own way and that the acceptance of the product as art should be a secondary and external process. I just have trouble with the notion that an individual who gets up every day and takes snapshots is an artist. I don't actually think that Bayles and Orland are making this claim. But I can see how their book could be interpreted in this way.
Is everyone who gets up daily to make something an artist?
I agree with sitemistic's claim that the authors' central point is that art is made by those who follow certain habits. But, despite the very evident pit-falls of a "what is art" discussion, I just don't see that the discussion is entirely avoidable. To argue that art gets made by those who get up every day and make art is not equivalent to arguing that everyone who gets up every day and makes "art" is in fact an artist.
I think that Remy's point about human growth as an important aspect of being an artist is very well taken. And I do agree that the drive to make art should be an internal and personal drive to make art in one's own way and that the acceptance of the product as art should be a secondary and external process. I just have trouble with the notion that an individual who gets up every day and takes snapshots is an artist. I don't actually think that Bayles and Orland are making this claim. But I can see how their book could be interpreted in this way.
Is everyone who gets up daily to make something an artist?
lns
Established
Rafael said:
Exactly. Everyone who writes a story is a writer, everyone who takes a photograph is a photographer, everyone who paints is a painter, but that's not enough for us. We want to be good. I don't think you can divorce the content, or quality, of the work from this discussion. I take the authors' point that the path to better art is practice. But I don't think that anyone who practices will necessarily become an artist. Something special must be inside you, in my opinion. Without this spark, this talent, no matter how much you practice you will never think yourself an artist. And no matter how good you are technically, without such talent, without something to say or show or reveal, no one who encounters your work will consider you an artist.
I'm not dogging the book at all. I read it a few months ago at a time when I was in a creative low point, and I found it very helpful and encouraging. If you have the talent, put pen to paper, squeeze the shutter, or whatever, so you can enjoy and improve. Don't stop before you start because you doubt yourself. And enjoy the journey, it's the reward. That was a very helpful message.
lubitel
Well-known
sitemistic said:
i agree with that. who is to judge if the art is good or if it is art at all? if you think you make art it technically makes you an artist. If you think its good, then who is to say it is not?
Rafael
Mandlerian
The discussion here may be over a matter of semantics. We can certainly agree that, at some level, anyone who makes whatever he or she deems art is an artist. In the same way, anyone who builds anything out of wood is a carpenter and anyone who prepares any kind of food is a chef. On this scheme, the question of whether someone is a good artist or carpenter or chef is an entirely separate question from whether or not they are an artist or a carpenter or a chef. However, though I am apparently in the minority here, this is not what I got from this book.
In common parlance, we use the word artist somewhat differently. When a friend who takes particular pleasure in preparing fine meals invites us for dinner, we might remark that he or she is not simply a cook. He or she is an artist.
What I take from this book is an understanding that the term artist is applied to the friend in question not, as one might expect, solely on account of the quality of the meal that he or she prepares, but rather on account of the way that he or she pursues the art of cooking. We think of our friend as a culinary artist because of the way he or she integrates cooking into his or her life. The food is likely delicious. And it is so on account of the learning, through repeated experiments, that our friend has undergone.
I might cook meals every day of my life without becoming an artist. To my mind, I would only become a culinary artist once I had adopted a more self-reflexive view of my cooking, one that included a critical perspective, a yearning to learn and improve, the discipline to do so, and a certain pride in the artistry of my culinary productions.
In common parlance, we use the word artist somewhat differently. When a friend who takes particular pleasure in preparing fine meals invites us for dinner, we might remark that he or she is not simply a cook. He or she is an artist.
What I take from this book is an understanding that the term artist is applied to the friend in question not, as one might expect, solely on account of the quality of the meal that he or she prepares, but rather on account of the way that he or she pursues the art of cooking. We think of our friend as a culinary artist because of the way he or she integrates cooking into his or her life. The food is likely delicious. And it is so on account of the learning, through repeated experiments, that our friend has undergone.
I might cook meals every day of my life without becoming an artist. To my mind, I would only become a culinary artist once I had adopted a more self-reflexive view of my cooking, one that included a critical perspective, a yearning to learn and improve, the discipline to do so, and a certain pride in the artistry of my culinary productions.
lns
Established
sitemistic said:
That is meaningless, or circular, to me, because it begs the question of what is art.
Is any image "art," is any poem, any book? I would say no. Think of a commercial photographer's shot of a hammer for a tool catalog, a poem composed for a greeting card, a romance novel or thriller. It may be produced by a professional, it may be a good product or piece of work, but that does not make it art. On the other hand, think of Irving Penn's work for Vogue, to take one example off the top of my head.
lns
Established
sitemistic said:
Actually, my name is Laura.
I don't want to get into a disagreement or a rhetorical argument. And I'm not sure how to respond to your comment, because its spirit seems less discursive than argumentative. That's fine, though. Everyone's different. And I have to agree with Marc that the nature of art is not the point of the book anyway.
To bring it back to the book, I like this comment from RML a lot:
"IMO it's not so much getting up the next morning to make better art but to progress/evolve as a human being: having new ideas, following up on them, experiment with them, and get other new ideas. ... I think the notion of reflection and possessing skills is exactly why most people don't consider themselves artists: they "lack" these abilities. But shedding the notion of lacking them is exactly what the authors argue to be important: you can't please everyone, so better create what you consider art, by whatever means and with whatever abilities you have at hand."
That's really well said, I think, and it encapsulates what I like about the book.
Russ
Well-known
R
RML
Guest
lns said:
It only becomes art when "the audience" defines it as such. Warhol is IMO a good example, but even the Impressionists, Picasso and Van Gogh didn't make art until their art was viewed as such (which in some cases took years, and some didn't even get to live to that moment). Until that point it was just what it was: the product of the creator. I can call my photography art for all I want. If no-one else agrees with me, my work will never be labelled as art. A flower is a flower until we call it a rose. Doesn't mean the flower isn't beautiful to begin with, and doesn't mean the flower all of a sudden becomes more beautiful after it's called a rose.
Russ
Well-known
Russ
Well-known
Rafael
Mandlerian
In another passage that really stuck in my mind, the authors write, "in making art you court the unknown, and with it the paranoia of those who fear what change might bring" (p.68). I have an inkling of what is meant here. What does this passage mean to any of you?
ClaremontPhoto
Jon Claremont
Rafael:
I think that means that people can be happy, safe, satisfied, with photos of the Statue of Liberty.
But when you go there and make photos of the dumpsters round the back of the statue they aren't happy, safe, satisfied any more.
I think that means that people can be happy, safe, satisfied, with photos of the Statue of Liberty.
But when you go there and make photos of the dumpsters round the back of the statue they aren't happy, safe, satisfied any more.