Artist Statement

Balancing Art, Work and Life!

What Stands Between You and Your Artist Statement?

July21

By
Ariane Goodwin

Is it a dry creek bed, or the Grand Canyon? A closed door, or the Chase
Manhattan Bank vault? Or maybe, it’s the whisper of many doubts: Artist
statements are so predictably icky. What can you say about your work
that someone else can’t simply see? What’s the point of words for a
visual experience? How am I going to be authentic, but not arrogant?
Sincere, but not sentimental?

And yet, you know that pros consider
artist statements an essential part of a good portfolio (or About Me
pages essential to a web site). Gallery owners are relieved by your
professionalism. People who love your work will know more about you.
Offering your audience more ways to connect with you increases their
delight, as well as the perceived value of your work. But, goodness, all
those daunting words between here and there!

For artists, words are a completely different experience from the
tactile world of art making. Paper and paint inhabit the world of our
senses, while words remain the detached curios of our mind. If we’re an
Independent Professional, we want to reserve center stage for our
business. Once in a while, when the two worlds of work and words
connect, language entices our senses and engages our imaginations, and
we love it.

So what stops us from using words to describe our art? Tell about
ourselves? These are the same words that have been with us since we
could walk. What causes us to be deeply suspicious of language, one of
our fundamental connections to being human?

The answer, in part, relates to a fatal combination of art critics
and education. Art critics use language as scepters of judgment. If
words are the messengers that determine our self-worth, then by all
means, kill the messenger. Formal education uses language as bastions of
control. If we are told when, where and how we can, or cannot, use which
words, we grow to mistrust our relationship to language. The mistrust
smolders underground, mostly unnoticed, until our words are thrust into
a container, like the artist statement or About Me/Us web page.

Suddenly, words make us visible targets for judgment and criticism,
so we hide our discomfort at this possibility with what we consider
rational responses. "My work speaks for itself." "Statements are
inconsequential to my work." "I have nothing to say that my work doesn’t
already convey." And the list goes on.

An opportunity, like writing a personal or artist statement, often
causes us to second guess every idea we ever had about our work. We
convince ourselves that we have nothing, really, to say, or for certain,
nothing of value. Our first instinct is to either turn off the light and
head out of the studio or office, or pump up our peacock feathers.

But running away only confirms our unspoken fear: there must be
something to run away from. And pumping up encourages us to use flimsy
or pretentious words to smother over our mistrust of language. This, in
turn, fuels our perception that language related to our work is simply
ludicrous.

Luckily, there is an alternative. Try pretending, that you have a lot
to say, which is neither self-important nor trivial, but relevant and
revealing. Imagine that all of your objections have been met and you are
simply going to write whatever you believe to be true, at the moment,
about your relationship to your work. Because, the good news is: you can
recover your own words.

Why and how do you do what you do?

There is an unselfconscious language about your work, which you use
all the time. Every time you talk or think about your work, you create a
relationship between words and your chosen passion. The trick is to
learn how to catch yourself doing this, and then faithfully write it
down. Yup, I said: write it down. How else will you engage that part of
your brain for continued support and help?

But why bother at all?

Because an artist statement or personal statement builds a compelling
bridge between you and your audience. An inspiring statement gives the
people who see your work another reason to remember you. It’s
reinforcement, clean and simple. And there’s not an artist or
independent professional around who can’t use a little extra
reinforcement to make it’s way through the crowd.

Equally important, a statement gives you the opportunity to see what
you do through the eyes of language, to validate your creation and
profession from a new perspective. Really, you can’t lose! You can only
procrastinate.

Want to get started? Try this:

–TAKE care: Treat your statement with the same care that your treat
your work; after all, all of it is you.

–GATHER raw materials: Use a notebook that is lovely or practical
and keep it with you in the studio, in the car, in the office, beside
your bed and take a few weeks to catch any fleeting thoughts that come
to you about your work. Give your self permission to gather. Selecting
and sorting comes later, when you have enough in your basket. Find a
writing pen or pencil that flows smoothly across the surface. Make it a
tacticle pleasure.

–TIME: Make a specific date with yourself. Respect this time. Do not
tolerate interruptions.

–PREPARE your internal space: Close your eyes and conjure up your
worst critic. In your mind’s eye, lead this person out of the room. Give
them another task, besides breathing over your shoulder, say, climbing a
tree, skipping stones, or going to the local library. Tell your critic
not to come back until you are ready. Critics are terrified of being
abandoned, that’s why they are so tenacious, so reassure yours that
there will be a place set just for them at the editing and revision
table. Critics are also stubborn. You may have to do this more than
once.

–WRITE more than one: Like different works of art, a statement also
thrives on change and rising out of "the moment." What suits this
month’s work may not work for the next month. Independent professionals
need to revisit their intentions from time to time, and writing a new
personal statement gets the juices flowing.

–GIVE yourself permission to make mistakes: Let yourself write
badly. Crumple up lots of paper balls and throw them in a corner. It’s
the beginner’s way. Then, when it comes out great, which it eventually
will, you will know the difference.

–WRITE as much as you want: Winnowing down is so much easier than
filling in later.

–DON’T hesitate to ask a professional: Some things just beg for
help. If you find yourself endlessly circling a dead pigeon,
really…aren’t there other things you’d rather do and still get that
statement written?

Ariane Goodwin helps artists take their careers to the next
level, so they can make an honest living doing what they
love. Besides art-career coaching and my seminal book,
Writing the Artist Statement: Revealing the True Spirit of Your Work

I also host the annual
smARTist Telesummit
,
the only professional art-career conference online or off
that helps you build your art career from the comforts of
home You can also sign up for your
weekly smARTips to advance your career one tip at a time.

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