Art School Confidential (For Reals)

So I've been having a lot of trouble lately, feeling sad about being so lost and without direction in my life. I keep catching myself looking back at my University days and feeling reeeeeally homesick for it.

But then I actually look past the hazy fond recollections and remember it was actually quite hard work and I wasn't really happy then either. A lot of this has to do with the fact that I was ALWAYS busy. I worked 30 hours a week and I did full time studies. Some days I was on Granville Island from 7:30 in the morning to 11:00 at night.

Oh, yeah, I guess I should put this into context. I went to art school. I started out at the local college and transferred into the university of my dreams. Or I thought it was. I fell into the same mental trap that a lot of people do. Art school is not that fun, everyone. It's full of self centred maniacs. And hipsters by the freaking dozen. Some of the conversations I look back on make me wince at the complete vacuousness.

When you're not IN art school, you think "wow, a chance and all those resources to create create create! You get a degree for doing something you love anyway!"

It really doesn't work like that.

When I moved to Vancouver and lived out on my own for the first time it was thrilling, exhilarating, amazing. I was and am totally in love with the city. I think that is the place where I have felt the most at home and a piece of my heart will always be a little sad that I'm not there. I think that most of my homesickness for my university days are actually just homesickness for being out and about in Vancouver.

Anyway. I was a transfer student, so I didn't do my foundation year there which meant that I was the new kid and I was pretty much an outsider the entire time I was there. I just couldn't seem to break into the cliques. I made one friend and that was in the end of the second to last year there, and it didn't end well.

It was actually pretty lonely. It's easy to forget about that. I had a job in a seafood wholesaler about 200 steps away from my uni. Both were in a high traffic tourist location in Vancouver, complete with panpipin' buskers. To this day the sound of pan pipes switches on the rage button in my head.

I HATE PAN PIPES.

So anyway. My major was in photography and for the most part I enjoyed learning how to utilise it. That's when we actually learned any technical skill. Art school focuses on the concepts behind art a lot. This is a lot more exhausting than you might think. The thing I point out to people that think art school is easy and I'm just frittering my time away is that art is all subjective. It's all about perception and one's personal reaction to it. That makes marking it REALLY hard.

In degrees that involve sciences and maths, there is a correct answer that one is able to reach. Do that, you get the grades.

In degrees that involve the arts, it's mostly down to how well you can articulate yourself (read: bullshit) and how well you execute your ideas. One could spend a whole year on one project and barely pass and one could spend on night on a project and get an A. I know, cos I've done both. It's easy to get B's and C's, it's pretty hard to get an A.

Art school begins with regimented and preconstructed projects. It's at this time that you're full of your own ideas and you're just bursting to follow them. You learn to reign that in and you try to stuff your own style into these projects that you're assigned. For instance, "In this project, you have to utilise these 4 elements of design and you have you use the colour green." or, "you have to successfully create an image that conveys the concept of inside/outside" or, "you have to build a giant item of clothing using things out of the scrap pile, you'll work in groups of 5 and in the end all your group mates have to fit inside the finished piece." All of those were real projects. It sounds stupid and it sounds easy. It's not. It really does end up stretching your mind in all sorts of ways. Because you have to come up with something that isn't stupid from something that sounds ridiculous. And you have to do it well.

I often had a hard time opening my mind in a way that wasn't a literal translation of the instructions. This made critiques hard for me because of all the eye rolling and scathing comments I had to endure.

The worst thing about art school are the critiques. You are assigned a project, you work on that project and then your class assembles and everyone talks about each other's work. Often it's just awkward cos no one cares or no one wants to say anything bad. Often it's just a waste of time. And just as often, I was completely bowled over by how much importance people would assign to such pointless efforts of time. But this is the nature of art. What is the point of it. Why is it important.

I'm going to give you an example.

One critique we held ended up being taken up by one project done by a student that had been at the uni for 6 years already. And all the professors loved this guy. He was completely in love with himself as well. (As all successful artists are.) So, this project. He had taken walks all around the city and he'd left his camera open. This means that there was nothing on the film, it was all burned away. It was as overexposed as it could be. But he then processed that film, exposed it to paper and developed that paper. The result was photo paper that was completely blank. He tacked these to the wall by the top two corners only, as the natural curve away from the wall made them sculptural as well.

We spent all 3 hours of the class talking about this. But maybe that means that this piece was a success. I suppose that's what makes a successful work, creating discourse. But I had this out of body experience where I was viewing all of this happening and I was thinking, "there are people out there doing things that actually matter, like saving lives or building cities and here we are giving the same amount to energy and concern to this."

I just don't have that essential element of narcissism that is required to be a 'successful' artist, and by that I mean one that is able to make a living from their work alone. One that has some renown in their field. Don't believe me? Listen to any artist talk about their work. If you really hate yourself, listen to Jeff Wall talk about his photographs or Tarantino talk about his films. I like and respect both of them for their work, but listening to them talk about it should be reserved for one of the circles of hell.

As you move on in art school, you reach a point where you are essentially given a blank canvas to do what you want. When you reach this point after so much time doing projects that were so structured, it's overwhelming. You blank out. It's almost terrifying. "what do I do?"

I don't think I ever got over that really. I still don't know what to do. By the time I had reached my final year of uni I was so burnt out from doing projects I didn't feel a connection to and listening to people prattle on about their process and their practice that I was entirely worn out. I didn't want to do it anymore. I was disillusioned from it. But at that point I had invested so much of my time, energy, money and emotion that it would be a waste not to finish it. At least, I told myself, if I changed my mind later I would have the degree. I'm glad I did.

Another aspect of the art institution is name dropping and networking. If you are good with people and good with rubbing shoulders, you're much more likely to do well. All of that is just so not me. I'm very introverted, self deprecating and I hate networking. I am not at all skilled with networking or selling myself to people. This is why job interviews dont' go well for me.

There is an aspect of ruthlessness that you need to be able to survive in the art world, and a skin much thicker than mine. You also need a very patient and understanding support network around you, one that will pop your ever expanding head when you need it.

It has been really difficult for me to get back my groove, art wise. I enjoy it. I love creating things, I love looking at what other people have done. I like to think about it. But sometimes when I am drawing, painting, photographing... that old feeling of exhaustion creeps back and kills it.

I have all this time on my hands, I know I should be using it. I"m going to give myself homework to do a little bit every day. I might try my hand at writing. I've come up with a children's book idea, I hope to write that out and draw for it somewhat soon.

In the meantime, I still look back on that time and I feel grateful for it. I feel that it helped me grow and it taught me a lot of things. But most of all, I miss the feeling of possibility.

I guess I have to work to get that back too. : )

Sorry, I'm Not That Great (with keeping in touch)

Anyone I left back in the home country will know this. I tend to just let myself fade out.

But I'm gonna be better! I'll write a real post soooooon!