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we had our crit today.. let me begin by saying. crits here are worlds different from critiques at rit. you could sit. you could stand. you could do whatever makes you happy as long as you could talk about your work. i would say i am terrible at talking about my work. not all te time. but when i feel intimidated by instructors teachers tutors whatever i get nervous. and i get intimidated very easily. talking about your work is much more important i think here. you have to fully elaborate. and than the class engages in a discussion. so.
last night jeremy decided since we were basically finished with workp we should get drunk. tipsy. and smoke a spliff. well. i drank like 5 pints in an hour. and felt fine. until i sat down and smoked half of a tiny blunt. and ran to my bathroom and threw up and passed out. to wake up at 845 extremely shtity feeling. no time to shower. i had in a drunken stupor forgot to go over with myself how i was going to set my work up on the wall. how i was going to talk about it. you know things that should have been done and was planning on doing but instead i helped jeremy print his final and got drunk. so i threw together the titles. figured out which ones were my final prints and ran to school thinking crit was at 915. nope. 930. did you ever notice how time moves faster in the morning when your getting ready? i did.
so i sat down. quite confident. half the class had told me how well done they thought my project was.
and looking at the work on the walls in front of me i thought that it was all pretty alright. better than the black and white stuff. nothing really incredible. but vaughn my instructor somehow brought about this deep conversation about feminist theory. gender. things of that nature. from work that really didnt scream those types of things at me. than we had a coffee break. i got some much needed refreshment drink i felt so shitty. and i must have only said one thing about anybodys work. just because i had nothiing to say about it.
i set mystuff on the walls
me as a child with the dog, the dog memories, and the dog dead on the side of the road, with titles, and with the dog sign i made and hung up around the city.
so i explain my work as recreating the experience of this family that had lost there dog and was looking for it and the next day after me seeing them looking for the dog i see the actual dog on the side of the road dead, gory, almost indecipherable. and later i saw a sign for the lost dog. so i wanted to recreate this whole thing in glasgow.
as i was explaining the work i looked over at vaughn who was kind of giving me odd looks. maybe its just his listening face.
i explained how i left the dog on tthe side of the road after i finished photographing the dead dog picture and put signs up everywhere. 'lost dog'
turning it from just a photographic project into public art. anyway.
so the discussion started. people said they liked it, the memory aspect, the center two photos where the best, my use of 54 cameras, everything positive. than, vaughn, who i dont think had anything negative to say at all about anyone, started really going into me.
he thought 3 of my photos were rubbish and that i should reshoot it as the dog in a more empty space so its more like a memory.
he only liked 2 of my photos i think he said. he liked the idea, but did not touch on any of it as public art. he wanted me to make the dog more fake in the dead dog picture, so that its more obvious i think. he picked on my technical skill and quality of light on the dog. and i really dont think he liked it at all. i dont know why. but out of my whole class i definatly had the worst critique. i mean he had his points. but even thor(awesomest swedishkid ever) said that he disagreed with alot of what he was saying and that he totally enjoyed my work and thought it was amazing. dave said that he pretty much was one ear out the other with him. im not going to ignore what he said im not upset because he didnt praise my work. i just think he missed the strongest point of the work, that i actually recreated the events that had happened for someone driving down the side of the road seeing this dogcorpse, and having the same emotional experience i did. instead he conceptualized that this dog was meant to be me killing my adolesence and stepping into adulthood. and that it doesnt even function well in that explanation because the work is weak.
which brings me to my next point.
i hate art. i hate art.
do you know who won the turner prize? some idiot that took down a shed, turned it into a boat, sailed it down the rhine river, and than reconstructed it as a shed.
what the fuck?
you can conseptualize all you want but what the fuck is the point of turning a shed into a boat and sailing in it?
what the fuck is the point of trying to explain art deeply?
i can piss in a bucket and stick it in a gallery, on a street. and call it art.
art is piss in a bucket.
what the fuck is the point in building a dog and killing it?
you know why i got into art? because i thought art could reveal the meaning of life, deep hidden secrets inside the human soul. im not kidding. probably because of my roman catholic upbringing and my amusement staring at all of the art in st anthonys. that art tells you the christian meaning of life.
but now on the brink of becoming a practicing artist. im realising that art is used to explain the meaning of art. and the explanations get worse, more gimmicky,, just trying to make money, just trying to become famous. just making fun of past art. just about fucking pointless.
and in the next 10 minutes im going to read my art history essay questions and just piss myself out of pure anger.
anger, self loathing, depressed, doing fuck all fucking idiotcrap.
dear paul nelson. if anyone can relate to this kind of shit it is you. and i miss you dearly. and really wholeheartedly wish that you were here. sitting next to me, telling me about your feelings on art and giving me new ideas of what to do next term.
we had our crit today.. let me begin by saying. crits here are worlds different from critiques at rit. you could sit. you could stand. you could do whatever makes you happy as long as you could talk about your work. i would say i am terrible at talking about my work. not all te time. but when i feel intimidated by instructors teachers tutors whatever i get nervous. and i get intimidated very easily. talking about your work is much more important i think here. you have to fully elaborate. and than the class engages in a discussion. so.
last night jeremy decided since we were basically finished with workp we should get drunk. tipsy. and smoke a spliff. well. i drank like 5 pints in an hour. and felt fine. until i sat down and smoked half of a tiny blunt. and ran to my bathroom and threw up and passed out. to wake up at 845 extremely shtity feeling. no time to shower. i had in a drunken stupor forgot to go over with myself how i was going to set my work up on the wall. how i was going to talk about it. you know things that should have been done and was planning on doing but instead i helped jeremy print his final and got drunk. so i threw together the titles. figured out which ones were my final prints and ran to school thinking crit was at 915. nope. 930. did you ever notice how time moves faster in the morning when your getting ready? i did.
so i sat down. quite confident. half the class had told me how well done they thought my project was.
and looking at the work on the walls in front of me i thought that it was all pretty alright. better than the black and white stuff. nothing really incredible. but vaughn my instructor somehow brought about this deep conversation about feminist theory. gender. things of that nature. from work that really didnt scream those types of things at me. than we had a coffee break. i got some much needed refreshment drink i felt so shitty. and i must have only said one thing about anybodys work. just because i had nothiing to say about it.
i set mystuff on the walls
me as a child with the dog, the dog memories, and the dog dead on the side of the road, with titles, and with the dog sign i made and hung up around the city.
so i explain my work as recreating the experience of this family that had lost there dog and was looking for it and the next day after me seeing them looking for the dog i see the actual dog on the side of the road dead, gory, almost indecipherable. and later i saw a sign for the lost dog. so i wanted to recreate this whole thing in glasgow.
as i was explaining the work i looked over at vaughn who was kind of giving me odd looks. maybe its just his listening face.
i explained how i left the dog on tthe side of the road after i finished photographing the dead dog picture and put signs up everywhere. 'lost dog'
turning it from just a photographic project into public art. anyway.
so the discussion started. people said they liked it, the memory aspect, the center two photos where the best, my use of 54 cameras, everything positive. than, vaughn, who i dont think had anything negative to say at all about anyone, started really going into me.
he thought 3 of my photos were rubbish and that i should reshoot it as the dog in a more empty space so its more like a memory.
he only liked 2 of my photos i think he said. he liked the idea, but did not touch on any of it as public art. he wanted me to make the dog more fake in the dead dog picture, so that its more obvious i think. he picked on my technical skill and quality of light on the dog. and i really dont think he liked it at all. i dont know why. but out of my whole class i definatly had the worst critique. i mean he had his points. but even thor(awesomest swedishkid ever) said that he disagreed with alot of what he was saying and that he totally enjoyed my work and thought it was amazing. dave said that he pretty much was one ear out the other with him. im not going to ignore what he said im not upset because he didnt praise my work. i just think he missed the strongest point of the work, that i actually recreated the events that had happened for someone driving down the side of the road seeing this dogcorpse, and having the same emotional experience i did. instead he conceptualized that this dog was meant to be me killing my adolesence and stepping into adulthood. and that it doesnt even function well in that explanation because the work is weak.
which brings me to my next point.
i hate art. i hate art.
do you know who won the turner prize? some idiot that took down a shed, turned it into a boat, sailed it down the rhine river, and than reconstructed it as a shed.
what the fuck?
you can conseptualize all you want but what the fuck is the point of turning a shed into a boat and sailing in it?
what the fuck is the point of trying to explain art deeply?
i can piss in a bucket and stick it in a gallery, on a street. and call it art.
art is piss in a bucket.
what the fuck is the point in building a dog and killing it?
you know why i got into art? because i thought art could reveal the meaning of life, deep hidden secrets inside the human soul. im not kidding. probably because of my roman catholic upbringing and my amusement staring at all of the art in st anthonys. that art tells you the christian meaning of life.
but now on the brink of becoming a practicing artist. im realising that art is used to explain the meaning of art. and the explanations get worse, more gimmicky,, just trying to make money, just trying to become famous. just making fun of past art. just about fucking pointless.
and in the next 10 minutes im going to read my art history essay questions and just piss myself out of pure anger.
anger, self loathing, depressed, doing fuck all fucking idiotcrap.
dear paul nelson. if anyone can relate to this kind of shit it is you. and i miss you dearly. and really wholeheartedly wish that you were here. sitting next to me, telling me about your feelings on art and giving me new ideas of what to do next term.