It is important for me to offer my pupils a broad variety of ideas, stimuli and starting points once they have completed a certain amount of set tasks to help them focus in the initial stages of developing their own ideas.
The notion that I am an artist first, (though ego driven), holds certain advantages when teaching. It enables an alter ego that can perform, demonstrate, create, exhibit, stage, portray, show and express a whole host of ideas that conventional, text/sketchbook teaching prevents. As the artist, I can make work that exists outside of my teaching practice yet stands as exemplar in the classroom. The art comes prior to the teaching…
In a discussion with my part time colleague yesterday, we contemplated the Art we should/would like to be making… Art that satisfied our needs – yet found that we struggled for ideas – for ourselves, we lacked impetus. The view that I make all my Art as a tool for teaching (though new and irritating to me), would suggest that I am a teacher first. And yet…what other work do I construct? Whom do I make the work for?
I find myself writing about stuff I didn’t intend to address. Comments from previous blogs keep filtering into my mind, distracting me from the natural course of my thoughts. At the outset of this latest blog my intention had been to introduce a second exemplar that encompassed the Olympics on from “artist development”. But I got sidetracked. I sent a link of the whole blog to my colleague who read it all over a two hour period – (whilst supposing to study for a math’s exam), and then fed back to me, which started this discussion.
In our own work, we both struggle to set tasks, themes or projects for ourselves. I question where artists come by their ideas? David Minton questions intuition when writing in his blog “It’s a Hiding to Nothing”. The overlaps in our conversations both galvanize and frustrate my notions on making Art.
As a teacher, I have no problem generating ideas and activities for my pupils. Elena Thomas has questioned these concepts in response to my previous blogs also; suggesting that work made for the classroom isn’t “real” Art…
…and yet…
I came away from my Masters feeling like I hadn’t really fulfilled my potential,
simultaneously believing I’d overachieved in certain areas. At the outset, my intention was to have my paintings critiqued in the hope that they would be good enough to enhance my salary. The notion of making Art for money isn’t one that sits comfortably with me – it implies that I have a substantial ego, and even if that were the case, I would always deny it…
…and yet…
I didn’t make a single painting in the two years of my study!
Excuses, excuses. I didn’t have enough time… I wanted to incorporate technology that I was using into my classroom – it enabled me to make work quickly and nobody else was doing it… my partner became poorly… the dog ate my work…
Pathetic…
I just didn’t know what to do… I relied on my tutors to move my work forward and then blamed them when I didn’t get the marks I wanted. I flapped about with my iPad altering others work, experimented with miniature cameras, got drawn into ethical issues that really didn’t interest me and eventually produced a final installation that was so far removed from my starting intentions, it felt like I’d wasted my time!
Nevertheless, I hadn’t.
I produced a huge amount of work. My tutors moved my work and my thinking forward. I came away wanting to teach the way I had been taught. I was inspired… wanting to study further… I came away as a far better what?
Oh!
Disappointment with the answer I know I should write there – “I came away as a far better teacher!” Yes, my reasoning and theory proficiency has increased, but my art practice did to. Is it conceivable that I dismiss reality for fantasy? That I know what I want, but fear the consequences of that decision? That I know what I am? Is that why I fail to find starting points for my own practice? Preservation of the life that really isn’t bad and keeps my family in comfort?
Can of worms…
Do I really want to publish this?
