One inescapable truth of the art world is that throughout your career, all kinds of people will say all kinds of things about your art, whether they tell you to your face, write about it, make videos about it, blog about it, post about it or gossip behind your back. Not only do you have to learn how to handle this continuous onslaught of thoughts, feelings, feedback, comments, criticisms, observations and impressions, but also how to evaluate and respond to them, and most importantly, how to not take them personally.

But first, a word to all you artists who have a habit of spontaneously asking people what they think of your art. The real question should be "What do YOU think of your art?" but let's save that one for later. Anytime you ask people what they think of your art, you have to realize that you instantly put them in awkward positions, especially if they don't really know you (why an artist would even ask someone who doesn't really know them-- or their art-- hardly makes any sense in the first place, but they go ahead and do it anyway).

Most people who find themselves in tricky situations like this will try to end the conversations as quickly and painlessly as possible, and you can bet that in almost all cases, what they'll tell you will not be what they think of your art, but rather what they think you'll want to hear-- which is usually that they like it. In other words, asking the question is basically pointless because you'll have no idea whether the answers you get will be honest or not, and have no real way of finding that out. Unless you already have an established relationship with whomever you're asking, or you're in a setting where people are specifically critiquing each other's work, there's rarely any upside to putting someone on the spot. If people feel like commenting, let them do it on their own; don't force the issue.

The good news is that you never have to ask because over time, plenty of people will volunteer every conceivable critique of your art-- some fantastic, others not so good. No matter what they say, these are always excellent opportunities to learn how your work impacts others, but at the same time, you can't take absolutely everything you hear at face value. Way too many artists have a tendency to get overly sensitive or defensive the instant anyone gets the least bit critical, and often without even thinking about who the criticizer is. These sorts of overreactions are rarely called for because most of the feedback you get comes from people who are not buyers, collectors, critics, gallery owners or anyone else who can impact or influence the course of your career, but rather from friends, family, acquaintances or casual art fans simply out for a good time and a little small talk. And making a big deal out of small talk does not do you one iota of good.

In order to figure out how seriously to take any conversation where your art suddenly becomes the center of attention, start by asking yourself a few questions. Who is this person? Do they know you? Are they familiar with your work? Are they familiar with the type of art you make? How much do they know about art? Are they qualified to judge art? Are they potential buyers? Are they respected members of the art community? Are they trying to make art conversation? Or do they just like to hear themselves talk? You'll come across them all... believe it. Once you figure out whom you're talking to and are able to get a little perspective on the matter, then you'll be in a far better position to relax and get the most out of every encounter.

This doesn't mean that if someone fails to "qualify," in your opinion, to meaningfully weigh in on your art that you blow them off or ignore everything they say. If one of your goals as an artist is to broaden your audience-- to expose your work to as many people as possible in as many different circumstances as possible-- then you have to consider and reflect on what everyone tells you, and not just a select few. Even the most uninformed viewers can at times provide brilliant bits of wisdom and insight into your art, not only in terms of the work itself, but also how it affects them, what they get out of it, what it communicates, what they understand, what they need help understanding, and so on. Input from others helps you become a better artist. It's just that simple.

Another important determination you have to make is whether a particular response is based on an individual's personal tastes, or is instead based more on certain degrees of knowledge, familiarity or experience of the art world as a whole. Usually it's the former-- someone either likes or dislikes your art only in terms of what they find personally appealing, and has little or nothing to do with the quality, meaning or significance of the work itself. This type of criticism is worth listening to, especially if you hear similar versions of it over and over again, but at the same time, you can't take it all that seriously because it's not really about you or your art, it's about them and their tastes. In other words, don't get all bent out of shape when someone speaks about your art in less than glowing terms, based solely on his or her individual preferences.

If, however, a person's comments are based more on facts relating to the art itself and are presented more from an objective critical perspective, then you should generally be considering them more seriously. For example, I see accomplished works of art all the time that I do not find the least bit appealing personally, but it's still good art, and I still have plenty of good things to say about it. And the same goes for not-so-good art. The important part is that I leave my tastes out of it and consider the art based purely on its own merits or lack thereof. These are the types of criticisms that are worth paying the most attention to.

Regardless of who's telling you what, you always have to keep the bigger picture in mind rather than flip out every single time anybody says anything the least bit contrary about your work (many artists fall victim to this, and it's almost always way more energy draining than productive). Think more in the aggregate, in terms of cumulative feedback over time. That's what really educates you about the impact of your work, and about how and what it communicates to others-- not any one person's remarks. Be more like a census taker and catalogue and accumulate data. Over the long haul, general response patterns to your art will emerge and become increasingly clear. You'll begin to see similarities in how people react to and experience your work, and you'll be able to make progressively better informed decisions about how to present yourself and your art to everyone's advantage, and to ultimately advance in your career.

Taking any one person too seriously is never good-- regardless of whether that person happens to have a profile in the art community or the ability to influence your career. The art world is so huge, especially in this Internet Age where pretty much everything is accessible to everyone (including you), that there's plenty of room for all points of view and all art to coexist, and plenty of potential interest in your art as well-- assuming you're willing to put the effort into finding it. The influence or authority of any single individual only extends so far, and even the influence they currently have is becoming gradually marginalized when compared to the ever expanding number of available options not only for artists to call attention to their art, but also for getting it out there in front of the public.

In the end though, while comments and critiques from others are certainly worth contemplating and at times even acting on, at some point you have to set them all aside. Remember way back at the beginning of this article when I said that the real question you should be asking is what YOU think of your art rather than what other people think? If you happen to be one of those many artists who are guilty of looking to others for acknowledgement or approval rather than looking to yourself, then perhaps change up your agenda a tad and occasionally reflect on why you find this quest for acceptance so necessary. Your art is ultimately about you and your belief in it regardless of what anyone else has to say. You can't underestimate the importance of other people's observations and input in terms of understanding the overall impact, effect and appeal of your work, but after everyone's had their say, your dedication, commitment and creative inspiration are all that really count.

Alan Bamberger,

 
 
I believe that art makes better humans, but that that can only happen when the line from art to audience is as taut, clean and consistent as possible. 

The interplay between artmakers and audience members is central to what we do and vital to the success of the enterprise.  That crackle across the wire, that static in the air at a live event, is good.  It makes your ears hum, your hair stand on end–it’s what connects people in a room behind and in front of the fourth wall. 

As Tom Stoppard famously wrote in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, about the making of theatre, “We have pledged our identities, secure in the conventions of our trade that someone would be watching.” 

We need to find better ways of understanding, nurturing and reciprocating this, our most fundamental of relationships.  Otherwise I worry we will get to Stoppard’s next line: “And then, gradually, no one was.”

Clayton Lord

 
 
Sharon Barfoot is a totally cool artist who lives in Ontario, Canada.  I love her work www.sharonbarfoot.com and I had a great chat with her about art and life.  Her thoughts and words come from such a peaceful, well-informed place.  Read on and see what I mean … 

MICHAEL: Hi Sharon, Your abstracts are very cool. They're very natural and elegant. It looks like you're inspired mostly by nature. Is that true?

SHARON: Thank you for your comment and invitation to chat with you. Am I inspired by nature? That implies a separation to me. We often forget that we ARE nature. There is no separation. However, there exists a diverse perception of the human body/soul from that of a flower. We perceive ourselves to be different and separate. I like to think of my work as having a dialog with the physical world of which I am a part. So, in a sense, I am having a dialog with myself and all that exists at the same time. My paintings are my attempt to express a personal interpretation of beauty and diversity of hidden worlds beyond the familiar.

MICHAEL: I see what looks like layering and fading in the work. Is this how you attempt to show other worlds?

SHARON: Exactly. I do build up many layers in an attempt to show the passage of time. We can never see things as they really are. What we see in this moment changes in the blink of an eye. We cannot escape the prisons of our own mind, nor of the hard-wired processes of that mind, nor of our inherently limited angle of vision (perspective) at any given moment. We simply cannot see something from every perspective at once – it is not possible. So, for instance, when I am trying to paint the landscape that has inspired me at this moment, I have to attempt to paint it, “before the wind, during the wind, and after the wind,” because that blade of grass has gone through all those stages in a nanosecond of linear time. At the same time, I am trying to indicate my emotional attachment to the moment. My solution is to paint in layers; to make sections foggy and show it in flux as much as possible within the two dimensions in which I work.

MICHAEL: What's your routine like? Do you paint everyday? Do you need to get inspired first?

SHARON: My daily routine is quite simple and uncomplicated. As soon as I rise, I meditate for forty-five minutes to one hour. I like quiet. I know it may sound trite, but I think I was born inspired. My mind seems to be over stimulated by my environment. The effort, for me, is taming my mind so that I can focus on the work at hand. If I am doing a series, for instance, I am already thinking of where I want to go for the next series and the next. My current work seems to seed future work. I will work on two or three paintings at the same time. My best work seems to come about when I do not have time to think. It is for this reason that I work fast, finishing a painting in one or two days. I don’t usually begin to paint until around 10 am and then stop around 1:00. I begin my afternoon making notes to reference for future work. Then I will work again in the late afternoon until early evening. I spend my evenings perusing books of interest to me. Always I have a note book close by.

MICHAEL: You say you were born inspired. Does that mean you were also born an artist? What are you earliest memories relating to art?

SHARON: I don’t necessarily believe that I was born an artist. I was born with a vivid imagination and I have always been very curious. I believe those qualities define someone who has an affinity towards fine art, music, or writing. I certainly did not have a natural ability to draw. That was a skill that took much practice to learn … and consistent practice.  It’s something I still do regularly. My earliest memories are of colour. I had recurrent dreams that involved a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes. Those dreams occurred before the age of five. I didn’t start to paint until my early teens. I am not totally comfortable calling myself an artist even now, after 30 years of being involved in the arts. I paint. That is my voice. It is how I make connections. If someone chooses to call what I do, art, then my voice has been heard.

MICHAEL: When people look at your work, do you want them to get YOUR message or is it okay for them develop their own interpretation?

SHARON: I think of my painting as a visual storytelling. When I approach the empty canvas, I am never sure what that story will be. I just witness the events as they unfold moment by moment as I make the white go away. It is only when the painting is complete that I view it with separate eyes and mind, that I can see the story. If a viewer connects in some way with a painting, then I have provided the fuel that ignites a memory or emotion in them. It becomes their story at that moment. The mystery lies in the connection.

MICHAEL: Wow, that’s great to hear.  I love the way you put that.

SHARON: I will tell you a story about one of my early exhibits. I had done a series of paintings where I was exploring texture and colour. One particular painting was about blue and green and the simple beauty of blue when it dances on the canvas with green. A viewer asked me what the painting meant. My answer was, “It’s blue and green.” This, of course, was far too simple an answer for her. I guess I was supposed to have some profound explanation that met with her expectations. So I asked her what SHE thought it meant. She had a very elaborate interpretation. I smiled and commented on how honored I was that such a patron had commented on my work. I was truly honored even though her interpretation was in no way close to my intention. What mattered was the connection. And, in this case the connection was quite deep and emotional. To me, it was “blue and green.” At that moment in time, the simplicity of blue and green was enough.

MICHAEL: You know, It's almost as if people have been brainwashed into thinking that they're not bright enough or worthy enough to have their own personal, simple appreciation of art. It makes the job of the artist SO much more difficult.

SHARON: A good piece of art will produce a worthwhile experience in the observer. That is if the observer takes time to actually look at the piece and try to understand it from their own perspective. I have never really thought about an audience being brainwashed. I suppose in some ways we are since we are heavily influenced by those agents, gallery owners and artists who occupy the power spots in the art world. They tell us what is “good.” Then elite patrons follow suit by spending huge amounts of money purchasing art for mostly economical reasons. That doesn’t make it good art. Perhaps it only makes a case for good marketing. Hopefully, there are patrons who are willing to express their own opinions as to whether or not a work of art is noteworthy.

MICHAEL: I truly wish this will become the case for everyone.  It’s why I do what I do!

SHARON: From an artist’s point of view, I know that not all art will create a worthwhile experience in everyone. I try to communicate attitudes, ideas and emotions that are relevant to my own unique cultural experience. I don’t spend a great deal of time thinking about the difficulties I encounter as an artist. I am too busy ‘showing up’ at the easel daily. I try to expand on earlier ideas and present a new way of understanding certain ideas that interest me. I make the assumption that those who are interested in my work, approach it from an educated perspective. I honor their ‘worth’ by respecting their opinions and welcoming their comments—positive or negative. And, in the end, I hope that my work is instrumental in generating a dialogue. So, you see, my job is quite simple. It is to paint. After that, it is out of my hands.

MICHAEL: I was just looking at your work again and it's really stunning. It's abstract and organic. It's as if you're saying over and over again that life and humanity are always emerging from unclear, uncertain things.

SHARON: Perhaps, if I were to label my work, I would say it had many organic elements to it. What we see with our limited senses does not tell us what is real. Our lives consist of two realities. There is the natural, which is what we see and sense. Then, there is the spiritual which is much deeper and that is where the unclear and uncertain comes in to the work. With each painting, I attempt to take raw material of physical existence, rearrange it into shape, line and colour to intensify it. I keep working the painting and concentrating the experience to a point of completion. That is, a point of my human awareness of completion, that will make the viewer aware of the sheer ‘being-ness’ of things. Life is not one-dimensional. It is open to the interplay of what is ‘other’ and that is something that cannot be fully put into words or paintings. An artist can only attempt to do so.

MICHAEL: Sharon, you are clearly a highly-evolved individual.  It really shows in your work and the natural forms.

SHARON: There are moments when you are in nature when you are fully present and aware; moments when you feel fully-connected. These moments are transitory and can be quite transformational. The only thing that is certain in this life is that very moment. We are continuously emerging in to the next moment. So too, is a painting. It begins with stroke of the brush and continues to emerge toward completion and all the time fueled by that moment in time in which you were inspired by nature.

MICHAEL: There’s no doubt that you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about life and your work. Do you come from a family of philosophers and artists?

SHARON: I spend a great deal of time reading and I did study philosophy in University. It probably stems from my insatiable sense of curiosity. I want to know how things work. Quantum physics, resonance, spirituality and Buddhism are some of my favorite subjects in my library. By osmosis, I guess that overflows into my work. I am also a very tactile person, so I like heavy textures. My course of study at University was textiles and sculpture. Recently, I have started to work with clay. My parents were blue-collar workers. My father was an accomplished carpenter and my mother was always involved in various crafts. Neither of them had much interest in fine arts. I do think that my early involvement with writing and painting grew out of depression. My attention was diverted and by painting or weaving, I quickly was able to overcome those periods of depression. Luckily, I don’t get into that state often at this stage of my life. I am more at peace.

 
 
_ Art is a discipline of internal movement. It is the subtle and delicate practice of following the creative impulse: that intangible, nonverbal dynamic that simultaneously connects us with our most authentic selves and the Oneness of all Creation. Truth lives and breathes in the creative process. When we attempt to control truth or define it in a fixed manner, it slips away from us. Truth instead merges with the diversity and mutability of life and creation. Through artistic discipline, we attune to truth’s fluidity and vitality.


Art asks us to courageously open ourselves to whatever wishes to come into being in the moment. Art is not about making what we want come into existence; rather, art is about inviting truth to guide us. It is a matter of being humble and responsive to what the Unity of Creation wishes to manifest in each moment of creative communion.


When we practice and witness art, we collaborate with the Universe. A conduit to the Universal Creative Intention opens when we reverently turn inwardly to the creative process and are present to what wants to manifest in our life. Art requires a willingness to abandon societal constructs of reality. Preconceived beliefs, formulas, and judgments fade as one directly experiences the vibrantly alive face of the Universal Creative Will and Intention.


We have taken a long ride through the landscape of the rational mind. Its one-dimensional and linear qualities dissociate us from the awareness of ourselves as connected within the Oneness of Creation.


The practice and witness of art re-establishes and enhances a feeling of connection. Like prayer or meditation, but more immediately and tangibly, art returns us to our essence. It takes us inward and focuses our awareness on that delicate communion with Universal Creation, which sustains us and aligns us with our authentic selves.

 
 
_ I sent out my February Newsletter yesterday and it was read by 120 subscribers.    Out of those 120 subscribers, only one person (an artist AND teacher by profession) noticed and commented on the typo in the header.  February was spelled Febrauary.    I have always had a keen sense of observation and, when teaching, I often will do exercises that help to enhance observation skills in the participants.    I will leave it to you to decide if this was an exercise to see how observant my readers are, or simply a typo.     But it does make me think more about how our brains work when observing our environment.

The two halves of our brains cooperate by agreeing that one of them will be in charge. They take turns being the boss, handing the responsibility back and forth between themselves every few seconds, minutes, or hours. This is called hemispheric dominance.

You can easily observe this by noticing which nostril is open. Most of the time, one nostril breathes freely while the other is partly constricted inside. They typically alternate every ninety minutes or so as the brain hemispheres switch dominance for this function. If you pay careful attention to this process, you may discover that your state of mind and mood vary according to which side is breathing more freely. Yogis have developed exercises to keep the left nostril open because the mind usually seems more sattvic -- more calm and insightful -- when the left nostril's hemisphere (the right one) is calling the shots. The left nostril controls the right brain and conversely the right nostril controls the left. 


What has this got to do with art?   I do not paint plein air.  However, I am inspired by my environment; my walks on the beach or in the woods.   I take time to truly observe whatever is in my line of vision.   The ability to look for and find things others might not see and to view what you discover from a variety of creative perspectives are critical skills for artists who want to give their viewers something unique. Getting into the habit of carefully examining your subject is beneficial for your artist within as it helps develop your sense of visual awareness.  In order to be in full awareness, I need to allow my right brain to be in that dominant state more often than the left.  In order to avoid seagull droppings, I need my left brain to kick in to tell me to step aside.  But that is another subject. 

Look for patterns in the landscape and subtle colour changes.    Notice the changes in the height of the grasses and how they dance when the wind blows.   Take notice of the patterns in the sand and how they change as the water washes over it.    Everything around you is constantly in flux and you may want to capture a particular moment in time.  For this, it takes acute observation.    I have learned that observation is far more valuable than painting on location.  I can take these visual clues and observation skills and go back into the studio to paint. 

 

 
 
Picture












Art
Quest

presents


ABSTRACTIONS:
WORKS ON PAPER



February
6, 2012 to March 3, 2012


Meaford
Hall
12  Nelson St. E., Meaford ON, N4L 1N6


Curated
by Art Quest Consulting,, this group exhibition includes works by Jean Francis,
Terry Golletz, Sharon Barfoot, Peri Jolley, Lorraine Boucher, Pat Keeling, Val
Kent, Sandy Esplen and Barbara Sprague.

Colour, shape, form, texture and  the results of light and movement are the predominate focus in this exhibit of  abstractions. Each artist is heavily influenced by their environment, whether  urban or rural and the organic structures within that environment. The work  presented is innovative and thought-provoking. Each artist is involved in a  process that serves as metaphor for thought, memory, perception and the  complexity of consciousness itself, especially the fragmented and often chaotic  consciousness of modern life. The work of Francis, Esplen and Keeling are quite  urban in nature. Golletz, Boucher, Jolley and Kent seem to draw their  inspiration from nature and in contrast Barfoot’s work relies on her conceptual  vision of her environment and the work presented by Sprague is figurative in  nature.


THE BEST REASON TO PAINT


“The best reason to paint is that there is no reason to paint....I'd like to pretend that I've never seen anything, never read anything, never heard anything...and then make something....Every time I make something I think about the people who are going to see it and every time I see something, I think about the person who made it....Nothing is important...so everything is mportant."With so many differing opinions it is hard to focus on exactly what  is, and what is not art. Many will tell you their opinions such as "I don't know  what good art is, but I know if I like it or not" and this seems to be the  sentiment with many. 
 
Paul Gaugin at one time said, "Painting is the most beautiful of all arts. In it, all
sensations are condensed; contemplating it, everyone can create a story at the
will of his imagination and.. with a single glance...have his soul invaded by
the most profound recollections; no effort of memory, everything is summed up in one instant. A complete art which sums up all the others and completes them."
Gaugin was as eloquent with speech as he was with a paint brush and painter's
hat.

So many artists have not had any acclaim to fame or fortune during  their own lifetimes. It is only after they are gone that the general public  tends to take notice and appreciate the master artist. And even for those few  who have claimed some form of notoriety, it is not all a bed of roses. And so goes the life of a working artist. Some get to live the dream and some are not  impressed by it when they get it. Yet, a lucky few get to live the dream and are  impressed by it at the same time. Which kind of artist do you want to be? Impressed or unimpressed? Or even depressed?

And, the bigger question is are you in it for the art or are you in it for the lifestyle? Many artists and writers dream of the lifestyle without a true passion and commitment to the art.  If it's only the lifestyle you want there are perhaps better ways to achieve  this than being a working artist. If however, you would rather do art than  anything else, then you've found your bliss and that is a reward in and of  itself.

http://www.sharonbarfoot.com


http://www.artquestconsulting.com