In December 2021, I participated as an audience member in an interactive, virtual panel discussion organized by the American Craft Council. The event was called ‘Future Insights’ and featured five speakers: a craft magazine editor, a museum curator, an art critic, and a couple of podcast hosts we probably all know (and love), Amy and Brien of ‘Cut the Craft’. The format of the talk had all the speakers introducing themselves and describing how they functioned within the craft community. After introductions, each speaker had breakout discussions with groups of audience members to work on ACC’s goal “… to listen to craft communities and their needs so as to develop and innovate solutions and implement new ideas for support.”
I was on that same ACC call but left before the breakout sessions even started, feeling strongly that I was in the wrong place.
As someone who appreciates art and even considered a career as a studio artist before becoming a designer, I'm struck by the profound difference between the contemporary artist's practice of staking claim to his very specific niche (and then needing to defend and evolve it) and the craftsman's freedom to make for the value of the thing made.
This isn't precisely a comment on the objects themselves and yet very often when viewing contemporary art I feel drawn into its striving whereas when living with handcraft I feel my place in the world is affirmed. When I'm making, that sense is deepened further.
On a different note, I really appreciate the way you talk about being granted permission. I've come to find that very important in my own life at different hinge moments. I look forward to seeing where this leads.
Back when I was doing lots of writing, I was also doing a ton of reading. At some point it occurred to me that reading, itself, is an act that completes the writing, and it happens each time we read, each time we think about what we’ve read, and we can “write” a story we’re reading (or living!) differently each time we consider it. It happens through our individual ways of perceiving, our general and momentary perspectives, our cultural and educational training, our unconscious frames of reference, etc. Criticism, in some ways, feels like the act of fixing and making opaque the frame of reference. I think there’s value in this, in that allows me to see differently, and to recognize that I, too, have my own limited ways of seeing. I think, though, it’s important to remember that even the most intelligent and intellectually rigorous criticism also has its limits. Lastly, as a personal choice, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of making for the critic, and I tend to be less interested in art of any sort that’s produced with the critic (or even an audience) in mind - it has the feeling of “product.” I know this is a fuzzy zone. I recognize that commerce has demands, and that artists and crafts folk need to survive.
Anyway, Dawson, thanks for doing this, and thanks for providing the opportunity for conversation.
Interesting lines to follow along with, hope I can learn some things along the way. I’ve often wished for more critique of my own work to help me refine and improve, but find social media isn’t really well suited for this, nor (is my current perception of) art critics and what really often seems like pretentiousness. Looking forward to where you may take this conversation
I was on that same ACC call but left before the breakout sessions even started, feeling strongly that I was in the wrong place.
As someone who appreciates art and even considered a career as a studio artist before becoming a designer, I'm struck by the profound difference between the contemporary artist's practice of staking claim to his very specific niche (and then needing to defend and evolve it) and the craftsman's freedom to make for the value of the thing made.
This isn't precisely a comment on the objects themselves and yet very often when viewing contemporary art I feel drawn into its striving whereas when living with handcraft I feel my place in the world is affirmed. When I'm making, that sense is deepened further.
On a different note, I really appreciate the way you talk about being granted permission. I've come to find that very important in my own life at different hinge moments. I look forward to seeing where this leads.
Back when I was doing lots of writing, I was also doing a ton of reading. At some point it occurred to me that reading, itself, is an act that completes the writing, and it happens each time we read, each time we think about what we’ve read, and we can “write” a story we’re reading (or living!) differently each time we consider it. It happens through our individual ways of perceiving, our general and momentary perspectives, our cultural and educational training, our unconscious frames of reference, etc. Criticism, in some ways, feels like the act of fixing and making opaque the frame of reference. I think there’s value in this, in that allows me to see differently, and to recognize that I, too, have my own limited ways of seeing. I think, though, it’s important to remember that even the most intelligent and intellectually rigorous criticism also has its limits. Lastly, as a personal choice, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of making for the critic, and I tend to be less interested in art of any sort that’s produced with the critic (or even an audience) in mind - it has the feeling of “product.” I know this is a fuzzy zone. I recognize that commerce has demands, and that artists and crafts folk need to survive.
Anyway, Dawson, thanks for doing this, and thanks for providing the opportunity for conversation.
This process of indignation, reflection, discovery, freedom seems all too familiar and one I believe to be necessary for our growth.
Props to you for not fossilizing on indignation.
Interesting lines to follow along with, hope I can learn some things along the way. I’ve often wished for more critique of my own work to help me refine and improve, but find social media isn’t really well suited for this, nor (is my current perception of) art critics and what really often seems like pretentiousness. Looking forward to where you may take this conversation