Responses

I attended the panel through the Career center on museum administration and how studio and visual arts majors have gone on to be sucessful. I attended this panel as someone who was super anxious about life after graduation. I came to realize that I would not be happy continuing with chemistry, although I really do love it. I thought that working in museums was only for people with an art history background, so I was getting anxious about needing to go to grad school for art history or not being able to find a job in the field. I was also definately slacking for preparing for post grad, so this panel made me feel a bit better. I saw that there was not just one path- some people were pro grad school and others weren't. Some were art history majors, others were studio and some were neither. They worked in museums and galleries and private collections, and I think I was most interested in the museums and galleries because I'd love to work in curation or bringing art to the public through exhibitions or community engagement. 

I liked especially hearing about Kat Bossi, because she was a studio art minor and right after graduation, I believe was on the paralegal/pre-law track. She decided to switch directions and that is something I really admire as someone switching from chemistry to art. She is currently a project manager at the MFA in Boston. I actually decided to reach out to Kat after the panel, and we had a discussion about what its like being an artist with a job in the arts (burnout, work-life balance, how studio practice has changed, etc.) and what its like working at the MFA. This was also my first time reaching out to an alum, so I was a bit nervous but it was such a good conversation! We have a lot in common and it gave me confidence that I will be alright.

Attending this event was spontaneous! I had seen the band setting up between my classes (I have scene design and speech class in the PAC!) and was curious. This week was especially hard with my thesis proposal, a chemistry research paper due, and regular homework to do. I needed this! 

The music was so lively and loud, exactly what I needed. The band was so impressive, they had a horn section, piano, flute, multiple percussions! The PAC did a great job with lighting that accentuating the energy of the music by changing colors and projecting different designs. People were dancing, and I wish I did too! I was watching from the second floor balcony, taking it all in. I don't know how to play instruments very well, and they made it look easy. They also talked about the importance of friendship and collaboration in their work, something that keeps the band playing together for years and having fun. They also mentioned collaboration in the sound of their music- how the different cultures of each musician influences the music they make!

It makes me wish there was more collaboration between art departments at Holy Cross. We need that to thrive as an artistic community, and we all need eachother in some compacity. I have felt so much fulfillment from my friendships with music and theater majors. There is so much we can learn from each other, but it can't be too forced.

As someone who is also a chemistry major, I found this chapter and its scientific approach to creativity interesting. I also found it somewhat amusing reading about atoms and carbon outside of a chemistry text. A passage that stuck out most to me for specifying the ideas presented in the chapter as well as exemplifying why it matters was found on page 61:

"The group environment helped recontextualize problems, as questions from colleagues forced researchers to think about their experiments on a different scale or level. Group interactions challenged researchers' assumptions about their more surprising findings, making them less likely to dismiss them as experimental error. In group problem-solving sessions, Dunbar writes, 'the results of one person's reasoning became the input to another person's reasoning... resulting in significant changes in all aspects of the way the research was conducted.'"

This stood out to me because oftentimes I hear about creative people isolating themselves in order to try to make some masterpiece and hone their craft. I think that its often romanticized and is a common trope in movies and such- the tortured, lonely solo artist. It has its appeal too- locking yourself away to work and work and hopefully getting some feeling that it was all worth it after producing something great. Often when I try this though, I end up much more frustrated or distracted. This is why I like work time during our class- everyone is walking around and talking and helping each other. I like bouncing ideas off of Kristina and hearing about what she's working on. Talking with others at that stage of artmaking helps me figure out what's working and what's not working before we critique, and gives me more time to adapt and switch gears if I need to. It also helps to know that you aren't alone in artmaking in the senior studios, there's usually someone else there and if not, I take a break to walk around and peak inside everyone's studios. I also think critiques are a great source of ideas for where to take your work in the future- I really like to hear what people think, especially my classmates. I like especially the part about "challenging researchers' assumptions about their more surprising findings, making them less likely to dismiss them as experimental error"... validation that something is real or working or not working from your peers means a lot.

One question I have is how to maintain this after graduation, without grad school or anything. I think it just takes communication and willingness to share with others. I often find inspiration when talking with friends who are not in visual arts but theater, philosophy, math, chemistry, etc.  If this is an important part of studio practice, what are ways to keep this up when I'm no longer forced to by my environment? 

I thought that this letter was very interesting and encouraging, because the young artist could be any one of us. I also think its funny that I might even as the young artist for advice. They seem to be farther along in their own artistry. Moving across the country to pursue something is a lot and it takes courage (as Xu Bing said) and resolve to commit to something so life-changing. I might ask the young artist about how they decided to follow this path despite warnings, what advice they would give to their past self, or how they find their own support systems when it comes to art-making.

I liked when Xu Bing wrote "using a limitation well transforms it into a strength." Many times I get stuck on what I cannot do, or what I think I cannot do. (Much of it is mental, as I've discovered. I have a lot of things I won't do, for no good reason, other than reasons that I won't get into right now. Stubbornness?) For example, I dont think I can sculpt too well. I don't think I could bring enough of something special in that area. This limitation compells me to "sculpt" in different mediums, in 2D even. I "sculpt" with texture or impasto. When I do sculpt, I am not my normal level of perfectionism because I do not expect perfect. This could give way to new experiments and outcomes that would not be possible had I been so concerned over it.

I also liked the bit about how our problems in life, our day to day motions, jobs, and things that require us to spend time and energy elsewhere help our art practice. I agree with this! It gives me feelings, experiences, and subject matter to draw from when I create. It also gives me time to think about my art, whether its conciously debating with myself about a drawing or just letting the ideas sit in the back of my head, in my subconscous, simmer for a bit. Often, inspiration comes when you are not trying so hard to find it.

I chose many words that stood out to me, including imagination, spirit, feelings, apparitions, humility, rumination, reflection and curiosity, but the main 5 that I think best exemplify my 20 works are soul, memory, observation, comfort, and sensitivity.

I say soul because while many of my drawings contain drawn ghosts or figures, many reflect the presence of something in landscapes and in ourselves. For me, soul means presence: something that is aware of itself while also seeming to be aware of the viewer. It is an element that is just as curious about you as you are about it.

I chose memory because many of my drawings are drawn from photos I've taken or bring elements from memories I have. Adding in the soul aspect, I like to draw them as memories that are alive. They draw you in and stare right back at you. I find a lot of myself still present in memories.

Observation is a big source of many of my subjects. I like to draw from life or photographs. You have to be able to observe small details or intriguing compositions. Observation is about the visual and the invisible as well. "Observing" what is not there is important and relates to the apparitions that I have in many of my drawings. You have to see opprotunity for bringing attention to texture of the media, as well as the mood of the scene.

Comfort is a funny one, because many of my drawings contain ghosts. I am to make these scenes not frightning, but curious and almost inviting. I use familiar areas, such as memories or common places, as well as textures and colors to invoke a sense of softness and comfort instead of fear. It pulls the viewer in. The comfort also helps me work through my feelings as I draw. My drawings are a consistantly comforting and safe space for me to sit and spend time with myself.

Sensitivity is also linked to this comfort. It is important to me because it allows me to be authentic. Sensitivity could be defined as being "sensitive" to the souls in my drawings, or sensitive to my thoughts and feelings, or have to do with the thoughtfulness of mark-making. My drawings are not harsh and they allow for others to bring their experiences and feelings to the drawing. I want my drawings to be sensitive enough for others to step into my shoes.

I found the reading really encouraging, especially after the summer I had. I tried really hard to get on a schedule of working on my art and creating. It came really easily at first and I was completing a few drawings a week. As I was getting more comfortable at home, I got lazier with my art and less motivated. After all, I was still happy that I made something, but I felt bad about not producing a lot, or not producing things that were good enough. I did have an interesting experience that made me feel differently than I thought it would. I finished a drawing of jellyfish that I was very proud of. My mom asked me “why don’t you use color anymore?” so I impulsively covered the entire drawing in watercolor. The drawing melted away, and I thought I would feel sadder than I did. If anything, I was glad I wouldn’t have to go on wondering what could have happened and if the watercolor would have looked better. I think that those thoughts would have held me back and made me think less of the original drawing.

One specific idea in the reading that I found interesting was the idea of annihilation. A lot of my friends create art in different fields, such as theater or writing, and I see this show up when they spend many nights trying to produce something that proves it is all worth it. Thinking about how this shows up in my own life, a lot of the things I do are art related (student art society, my art major) and it is a large part of my life so far. I have been drawing since I was very young. If this didn’t work out, would it all be worth it? As most art majors, I have questioned and have been questioned about how practical the degree is. To combat this, I remind myself to enjoy working on art and enjoy the process. I can still think about outcomes, but I think the outcomes are less likely to be good if I do not find happiness in what I do.