PART II
AGAINST CRITICISM. THE MALNUTRITION AN ARTIST MUST ENDURE IN HIS OWN NATURAL HABITAT, A PURPOSEFUL HIPOCRASY.
Each of us, artist or not, deal with uninvited feedback. It’s part of life. It is the artist’s responsibility however, if he or she is especially talented and driven, to allow each facet of his life to be judged – whether or not it should be. To expend the energy that a surgeon might standing up, or that a steel worker might hauling steel, on the added task of keeping cool, staying sane, and remembering that if he or she is responsible, the best and only critic is oneself. All else, aside from a most rare and worthy form of artistic relationship, is sound and letters. Criticism can never give us the workplace benefits of tightly-bonded peers, resources, and articulate purpose.
Outside of the creative professions, criticism is subversive and at times patriotic, and even at its worst—absolutely necessary. But art at its best is a subversive form already, and a surplus of theory and thought (there is always room for some) only detracts from art’s greatest contributions.
To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.
Elbert Hubbard
However, under the formal confines of academia, criticism is necessary. In the same way that my father’s hand was necessary in my learning to ride a bike, even though we were both looking forward to the day I’d be popping wheelies and hopping curbs in a way that would make my neighborhood predecessors look like mediocre French Mannerists on wheels. Often times however, for reasons of pride, ego, and agenda, the artist and his work must endure a form of criticism that is nothing like the father’s hand, but rather a hijacking of space and time for the sake of one hearing his or her own voice, and for the satisfaction such misplaced blabber gives its maker.
For the greatest of artists, criticism never mattered. A ‘good’ response was as interesting, helpful, or enjoyable as a ‘bad’ one. These are the artists that learned to endure each part of their life being picked and discussed as if their life was no less an object than the cantaloupes at the store, which require a dispassionate and judicious hand. And because they found a way to not only redefine the form in which they were working, but also to listen only to the inner critic in spite of all that was continually incomplete and misunderstood, these artists are names we remember. For those of us that call ourselves artists, there are even more of them. We’ve met or known a few – they don’t just live in New York or the past, but across town – and they themselves may not even call themselves artists. They are people who are creative with their lives, not just their work. So much so that it becomes impossible to tell the difference between the two, and the mistakes some might make as they try are utterly forgivable. They are people who, put simply, have the sort of vision that can stand on its own, no matter how many are incapable of seeing along. The sort of people who can listen to the anecdotes, insults, and faucets of empty wisdom without caring.
If the art – or even the life of an artist – is misunderstood, anger is a viable option. But if either achieve disfavor in the hearts and minds of others, it’s entirely likely that the art has truly achieved. Often times, success is a matter of the audience not simply seeing, but seeing once and then again, thinking all the more, whether they’re happy or not. This is the nature of meaningful conversation, which is not simply communication, but a consideration of what is being communicated.
If art, (or the sort of life that resembles art) is to be set apart from the more utilitarian forms of communication, it must force consideration. And if that force is strong enough, it forces those who can’t help themselves from responding to truly consider the form their response will take. To calculate and create, to thoughtfully deliver each of their words so that their message might have its own two feet to stand on. Sanded and stained, like any decent sculpture. In which case such words, unlike criticism (in the broadest sense), would matter – as they become another line in the conversation rather than a nod in the coliseum. Such exchanges are rare, the art in question must potent and unique. A bold enabler, wrought with both power and finesse.
In my short life, I have yet to make or live something so powerful. I hope to.
I’ve been dealing with criticism for a long time. It’s part of getting an education, which I’ve been doing for the last twenty years or so. For the last five years, and for the next two, criticism is an integral part of that education. And it is my belief – after all these reviews, critiques, and downright insults – that one of the most important lessons of this education or any other is learning just how very important criticism really is in terms of true success.
Not very important at all.