I've been working my way through Alyson B. Stanfield's fantastic new book, I'd Rather Be In The Studio.
Instead of reading the book from cover to cover, Stanfield encourages her readers to dive in and read and then act on the chapters that relate to where they are right now. The one that immediately leaped out at me was the chapter on writing an artist's statement.
I wrote my current statement in the final year of my degree - six years ago this summer! Sure, I've tweaked it a bit since then but when I put up my website last year, I realised that it read like something an art student would write to impress a tutor. Obviously that was appropriate at the time but it isn't so helpful now. However, I needed to get the website up and I knew that I would noodle around until the end of time if given half an excuse, so I decided to let it stand and change it at a later date. That later date has finally arrived. Alyson's system for writing a statement, based around a series of helpful writing prompts, has inspired me to start writing a statement that's a bit friendlier and more accessible with much less 'art wank' (what, it's a technical term!).
I thought I'd share some of the process with you, so here's my answer to the question,
"How do you begin an artwork?"
I usually begin with an idea, often a single sentence written in the notebook that I keep by my bed. My ideas can take a long time to come to the surface and even longer for me to act on them. I'm not a quick artist - I often think about pieces for several years before I make them! A lot of working out happens in my head first and then I usually wait until I'm absolutely compelled to make a piece before I start. It often feels like a jigsaw puzzle where the pieces have to be slowly swirled around in my mind before I can start the actual making.
Next the idea enters the test piece stage, at which point it might stall because it just doesn't work. I'll noodle around with the test piece for a while, rethinking things, trying other approaches and fitting more pieces of the puzzle together until I eventually find a solution or discard the idea altogether on the basis that it was shallow, pointless or just a bit crappy.
I absolutely love the problem solving aspect of making art. My art needs to work on three different but related levels: the practical level (will it fall down?), the aesthetic level (does it look right?) and finally, the intellectual level (does it convey the right meaning?). All three things must be in balance for me to consider it a successful piece and I constantly look for elegant solutions to all three problems. I like simplicity in my art, it's good when something is 'just so'. It's important that I don't say too much or too little and I know a piece is right when the solution works precisely and completely.
.....
I don't know how much, if any, of this piece of writing will make it into the final statement but just being nudged to think about my process again has already proved inspiring and useful. I'm feeling less stuck and more connected to my art than I have for a couple of months.
Alyson B. Stanfield
I love "art wank"! Nothing we'd say across the pond, but spot on.
Alyson B. Stanfield
I love "art wank"! Nothing we'd say across the pond, but spot on.
Wendy Edsall-Kerwin
I found your blog through Alyson's website and I too have been working on my artist statement. I just posted about it on my blog. I like what you siad about how you begin your artwork. I guess that since artists tend to be visual people, so often their ideas are sketched out visually. I like that you can start from a sentance. Working in a 3-d medium I have problems sketching out my designs adequately, but I have a better sketch in my head. Sometimes it's just a feeling that gets worked out in the metal, but sometimes there is some sort of sketch to get me started.
It's really interesting to find out how other artists come up with their work.
Wendy Edsall-Kerwin
I found your blog through Alyson's website and I too have been working on my artist statement. I just posted about it on my blog. I like what you siad about how you begin your artwork. I guess that since artists tend to be visual people, so often their ideas are sketched out visually. I like that you can start from a sentance. Working in a 3-d medium I have problems sketching out my designs adequately, but I have a better sketch in my head. Sometimes it's just a feeling that gets worked out in the metal, but sometimes there is some sort of sketch to get me started.
It's really interesting to find out how other artists come up with their work.
Kirsty Hall
It's a pretty commonly used term over here, Alyson, although I wouldn't use it in a class paper or anything very official.
Kirsty
Post authorIt's a pretty commonly used term over here, Alyson, although I wouldn't use it in a class paper or anything very official.
Kirsty Hall
Hi Wendy, welcome to my blog. How's your statement coming along? I've not done much on mine since I wrote this post - there just always seems to be something else that needs doing. Ha, I bet Alyson would tell me to stop making excuses!
I often don't draw my ideas either, other than a very rough pen sketch to remind myself of what was in my head. In my experience, sculptors often don't make detailed drawings beforehand, we tend to make little test pieces or maquettes instead. Some do, of course, but when I was at college on a dedicated sculpture course, most people were making rather than drawing.
Kirsty
Post authorHi Wendy, welcome to my blog. How's your statement coming along? I've not done much on mine since I wrote this post - there just always seems to be something else that needs doing. Ha, I bet Alyson would tell me to stop making excuses!
I often don't draw my ideas either, other than a very rough pen sketch to remind myself of what was in my head. In my experience, sculptors often don't make detailed drawings beforehand, we tend to make little test pieces or maquettes instead. Some do, of course, but when I was at college on a dedicated sculpture course, most people were making rather than drawing.