From the Archives – Ego in Art – originally published 2010/10/14/

 

 

 

 

 

Untitled – colour photograph, Sam Stewart http://samueljstewart.com/

 

 

 

written by Bryan Viau

Art in it’s very essence is an extension of ourselves. We can pour our heart and soul into our creations and feel we’ve brought some beauty or meaning to the world. However, I’m an avid believer that the act of creation alone is not art. It has its place and can be incredibly therapeutic, but the process isn’t art. Art requires an audience, and that audience doesn’t always feel as passionate or romantic or interested in your creation as you. Sometimes your work is flat out rejected or dismissed. This can potentially hurt; it can feel as though critics are attacking us personally and our ego wants us to defend ourselves.

It’s important to keep in mind that your audience is what is truly bringing your art to life and they may not see your piece in the same light that you did. But the act of them experiencing your art is more than what can come from creating a piece alone and never showing anyone. This Town is Small is a pretty strong embodiment of this very sentiment. Art is nothing without community to experience it. To learn from it. To love or hate it.

Everyone brings their own experiences to your art and through those experiences their opinion is formed; whether it’s good or bad is irrelevant. They’ve experienced your art and even if they, quite vocally and in pain-staking detail, describe everything about your piece they did not like then here is something to remember; your piece of art had an affect on them. A seemingly strong one, to boot. The people who are vocal about something are people who feel strongly, good or bad, about it.

While it might be painful to hear, their opinion of your art is just as valid as your own is. When your work is submitted to the general public your message changes from what you originally created in ways that no one can predict. There is a part of me that feels the need to stand next to my art and explain it to each person that experiences it, but this is ultimately ruining the experience for them. At that point my art has become didactic and boring. No one wants to be told what to experience and attempting to maintain that grip on your work will just smother it. The message that you intend may get across, but nothing else will come of the work.
There is always constructive criticsm that could be taken for your work. There is also always praise and seemingly unwarrented negativity as well. All of this feedback, though is not directed at you. As I stated earlier; art is an extension of ourselves, but it is not us. It is easy to let our ego take over and take any criticsms of our art as personal attacks. This is something that every artist has to face. Taking criticsm is one of the most important parts of being a successful artist as it helps us grow and evolve to create better and more.

Even pieces of art that are widely hated are still successful because they were created with meaning and have affected people enough to feel strongly about it. It’s hard to take criticsm and feedback that way, but learning to put your ego aside and let your art be free of it is something that every artist struggles with indefinitely.

Design – From the Archives, orignally published 2010/09/09

 

 

Written by Overman

Is design an art in and of itself?

I’m not going to try and define ‘art’ since I honestly don’t know the definition, nor do I care.  My question pertains to the border between the design of an artistic piece and it’s actual creation.

In the world of fashion, it is the designer who receives all the credit.  When Lagerfeld designs a dress for Chanel, it is not he who then sits down and actually creates the piece.  It is quite often a room full of master seamstresses who do all the physical work but receive none of the credit.  Who is the artist in this case?

Personally I would have great difficulty in putting my brand on something that my hands did not create.  But does anyone really care?  Probably not.  If I hired an assistant, and they created pieces for me could I still in good conscience call them “Overman” pieces?  In reality, if someone likes one of my pieces, they probably do not think about who the creator is.  They simply like it for what it is.  Still, I don’t think I could do it.  If I were to hire an assistant, it would be for the most mundane and uncreative of tasks: billing, shipping, delivery, and communications.

On the one hand, I think it’s only fair that when I put my brand on a creation it’s because I physically made it.  On the other hand, I’m probably crazy and a bit of a narcissist. This is a shortcoming that I’ll have to overcome if I ever plan to expand my line.

However, lets think about another artistic discipline: painting.  Imagine if an established painter hired a protégé, and began signing his name on the protégés work.  Let us first assume the protégé has no issue with it.  Let us also assume that the master painter is telling the protégé what to paint.  The master is, in effect, the designer of the paintings.  Would you feel cheated or disappointed if you purchased a painting and later found out that name signed on the painting was not the actual painter?  Or can a signature simply act as a stamp of approval?  I think I would feel cheated.

What is the difference between the disciplines?

From the Archives – Amor Fati – Originally Published 2010/06/28

Amor Fati

written by Matt Bowness (Overman)

 

“I have found power in the mysteries of thought,
exaltation in the changing of the Muses;
I have been versed in the reasoning of men;
but Fate is stronger than anything I have known.” -Euripides

            When I first started making things I had no intention of ever selling anything.  I just made a few things for myself.  I had seen similar things on the internet and thought I could make my own, so I ordered the supplies, and did it myself.  A friend saw what I had made, and suggested that I make more and try to sell it.  A year and a half later, I have my own workspace, my stuff is available in about a dozen stores, and I am struggling to keep up with orders.

It’s not for lack of time that I’m not keeping up with my orders, it’s more due to lack of interest.  As I mentioned earlier, I don’t do this for money.  As a matter of fact when I first started making things, I refused to price anything myself.  I would just drop a bag of stuff off at a store, tell them my costs, and let them worry about the rest.  Since then I’ve learned a few things about pricing and I do it myself now.  I’ve got all the supplies I need to fill my orders, I’m just not feeling inspired.

In my last post for This Town is Small, I made it clear that my creative intentions are selfish.  I am essentially creating things for myself, so I find it perfectly reasonable that I have not been in the mood to make anything lately.  But really, who am I kidding?  I won’t go into all the reasons here, but my lack of a muse has never been so obvious.

I believe in the idea of a muse.  I could continue to make things that I might like, but I don’t have someone else to who I can show my work to and watch their reaction.  Someone who’s opinion I value, and someone whose feedback isn’t based on admiration or worse; jealousy.  I need honest reactions.  These reactions are what provides further inspiration.

Some people think we can find our muse in virtually anything;  ourselves, the world around us, or even something imaginary.  Personally, I don’t think this works for me.  My best work has always happened when I had another person who I was trying to impress.  Someone who didn’t just fawn over everything I made.  Someone who would provide feedback and new ideas.

I find it offensive when I show someone a collection of my work and they say something like, “It’s all great!” or “I love it all!”.  No you don’t.  You just aren’t looking close enough.  Most of it is cutesy garbage with zero thought put into it, or pieces based on pseudo-wit as a marketing ploy.  More of the same.  Nothing new.  The part that worries me is, without inspiration, that’s all I’ll do from here on out…more of the same.  I will just rely on my past successes to guide my future creations.  Nothing new.  It’s not a creative block.  I’m just not interested right now.

It’s okay though, I can’t force creativity.  The only thing I can do is go to my workshop during my free time, fill my orders, and hope for the best.  If something good happens then it happens; if it doesn’t; then it doesn’t.  It’s not in my hands, it never was, and I’m fine with that.

At least I’m still writing.

 

Matt Bowness / Overman

iamoverman@gmail.com

http://www.facebook.com/overmanpage

 

Couples on couches – By Monica Lacey

Adam and Jill – by Monica Lacey 2013-2014

By Monica Lacey

www.monicalacey.com

.

Over the past two winters I’ve been shooting a photo series called Couples on Couches. It was published by NAILED Magazine, out of Portland, OR, and at the time of writing this post, the link had been viewed nearly 2200 times on Facebook. It’s been great exposure all around. You can see the photo essay HERE.

I was moved to write about this series, and begin a discussion, because amid the overwhelmingly positive feedback, I had one comment from a total stranger that read: “beautiful, but are there more in the series that could be not only white, cisgendered, and young?”

.

This comment hit me kind of hard particularly since I have many people in my life – including my husband – who are of other races, and of course I have friends who are of other generations and who identify outside of both heterosexuality and monogamy. It was never my intention to exclude any demographics, only that I was specifically seeking people in committed couples where the key requirement was that their schedule permitted a shoot. This person’s comment was something that honestly hadn’t occurred to me once during the series.

.

The goal of the project was initially to get some more practice shooting people, as my subject matter has been fairly restricted to inanimate places and objects over the years. As I worked on the shoot, the goal shifted to a more aesthetic one and I approached couples whose looks together I think make a really interesting pair. The project also took on a role of documenting my immediate social environment, my experience of being part of a couple, and the other examples I see of this dynamic in my daily life. Many of the people who modeled I have known for 20 years or more.

.

I wanted to open this discussion up and see what other people thought – it brings up some interesting questions for me, like:

-is it somehow wrong to represent young, white, heterosexual people only? Even if you fit into that category yourself?

-would it not be even more discriminatory to force-fit representatives from other ‘categories’ into a project solely to have diversity?

-is it totally naïve of me as an artist/person to not put people into race/gender/age categories in the first place?

.

I’d love to hear thoughts/comments, etc. from you!

From the Archives – Raven Over Bridge – Originally Published 2010/06/15

In Thoughts of the Old Army 2 – Ben Allain, http://www.wix.com/benjaminallain/benjaminallain

Raven Over Bridge

Written by Yvette Doucette

January snow storm
a dark shape hovering
above the road, maybe fifteen feet

directly ahead
silhouetted in the
overhead bridge lights

like a haunting
like the shape of what
your life could be, or how it is

the wind pushes the dark body
the wings hold their shape
achieve a perfect suspension.

your car passes underneath
snow swirling, the raven
wind-fastened, dream-riveted

and because you can’t look back
you begin, immediately
to doubt

From the Archives – this town is small and I love it – Originally published 2010/03/08

 

This town is small and I love it. – Becka Viau

 

From the archives – Conviction and Grace – Originally Published 2010/02/24

bunny – becka viau 2010 http://www.beckaviau.com

Conviction and Grace

Written by Allison Cooke

When I was a young girl, I was fascinated with the world in which Barbie lived. I would like to think that the fascination stemmed from my personal belief that a woman can achieve anything she strives for; that this doll represented empowerment among women, freedom of choice and strength. Not because of her physical appearance and unattainable measurements, but for her independence; her ability to be whatever she wanted to be and to do so with great conviction and grace. I looked up to Barbie, not because of the false ideals her looks imparted upon us young girls, but for what she stood for. Barbie was indeed, a feminist role model.