Sunday, February 8, 2009

hard work & tough love

I went to a panel conversation on Friday between Ted Purves and Randall Szott, called "Let's Talk About Love: How to Succeed in Art Without Really Trying" which turned out to be a depressing way to slide into the weekend. Their conversation basically digressed as follows: Artists work really hard. Who are they working for? They are working for the art market. Their art-making is a job. Jobs aren't fun or expressive. What's the opposite of a job? Leisure is. So is love. You do what you love in your leisure. Leisure is free-time and relaxing. You cannot make art for an art-market simultaneously with leisure. You cannot love your job. So the best kind of art is when you don't try. The best kind of art might not even be art. Art is made to serve a purpose. Leisure is time spent without purpose. Therefore art cannot be genuine. Only leisure is genuine. (and on and on and on)

So somewhere in there I became pretty disgusted because, well, my work is all about love and I love to do my work. Apparently Randall Szott went to grad school for two years and intentionally made nothing during this time. I kept raising my hand because I wanted him to talk more about the intersections about love and work, especially within the context of CCA, which was founded as a craft school. I also wanted to know if he thought a woman or a non-white person could get away with going to grad school and making nothing. To his credit, he kept denying claims that he was an artist and that he was making art by making nothing. I guess, in some twisted sort of way, I found what he was saying funny because he was self-deprecating. But I think that what I was feeling was just a reflection of the recent unfortunate excitement over contemporary white bad-boy artists who make art that is poorly made and poorly concieved-- as if apathy was the smartest thing ever. It is not. People have been apathetic in America generations-- as a graduate of small Ne England liberal arts college, I have met many of them.

Ironically, I had brought a small drawing to work on while I was there, and wound up leaving early because I found the conversation distracting from what I was doing. I'm not sure if a white guy with a college and masters degree should be able to talk to a room full of students about leisure without talking about his race and gender and how they afford him that opportunity. I grew up in a middle-class white family, and accredit the ease of continuing my education to that upbringing. I also witness my parents struggle over their finances and work really hard in order to make everything possible. I think a big part of my work ethic is this insurgent feeling of guilt-- that I owe something to my family, my community, my world in return for the luck I've been afforded so far. I question this guilt sometimes, but for now it keeps me going.

1 comment:

Dilettante Ventures said...

Let me take the time to thank you for coming and for bothering to write about the experience. I'll do my best to address some of the things you raise here.

"So the best kind of art is when you don't try. The best kind of art might not even be art."

The first sentence is definitely not what I intended to say. The second is closer, but I might say, "The best kind of experience might not be art."

"Therefore art cannot be genuine. Only leisure is genuine."

I'm not interested in being genuine, or authentic. I'm interested in the purely qualitative dimensions of experience. Sometimes art does a good job at enhancing experience and sometimes it doesn't.

"So somewhere in there I became pretty disgusted because, well, my work is all about love and I love to do my work."

I would never tell someone who loves their work to quit doing it. I do ask folks to consider (not judging whether you have or haven't) how work transforms experience. My usual example comes from cooking. I may love to cook (it's my job), but there's something qualitatively different about cooking for customers and cooking for someone you love. One isn't necessarily better, but I certainly prefer how the latter feels compared to the former. I really do feel awful for having disgusted you...

"I also wanted to know if he thought a woman or a non-white person could get away with going to grad school and making nothing."

Race and gender obviously figure in complex ways here. Much of the ancient literature on leisure (Greek philosophy for instance) was predicated on, and developed via slave labor and the systematic exclusion of women form public life. Most of the theorists of leisure are men and/or white women. I'm not sure however that race and class privilege figures more prominently in leisure theory than any other field though. It's definitely something I think about and if it matters at all to you my thesis advisor for my first Master's (I did "something" for that one) was a feminist scholar. And one of the committee members for my "doing nothing" Master's was a professor of Women's Studies. I know that doesn't necessarily mean much, but hopefully it will show I'm not a typical white guy.

Speaking of..."But I think that what I was feeling was just a reflection of the recent unfortunate excitement over contemporary white bad-boy artists who make art that is poorly made and poorly concieved"

Well I'm certainly white, but hardly a bad-boy, or wannabe bad-boy. And I'm no artist. I may poorly conceive what I do, or at least poorly communicate, but I'm not at all interested in being a Dash Snow sort of jerk.

"as if apathy was the smartest thing ever. It is not. "

Absolutely agreed, but the type of apathy one cultivates might be smart. Cultivating an indifference to professional success, especially as defined by some of the racist and classist structures of the art world might not be such a bad thing for your art or your community.

"I'm not sure if a white guy with a college and masters degree should be able to talk to a room full of students about leisure without talking about his race and gender and how they afford him that opportunity."

Well I did open my comments by stating that in some sense I wasn't really qualified at all to be there. I also would never shirk away from that sort of questioning. I talk about the privilege of my upbringing in a far more challenging environment - amongst my white (and sexist and some racist) working class coworkers on the boat I work on. Talking about it at CCA just doesn't seem as important. I went to a minority white elementary and saw first hand the TREMENDOUS advantages I had and carry that with me to this day.

I hope I shed at least some light on your questions and I thank you again for taking the time to write about the talk!

-rs