POST #175: JUDGE OR BE JUDGED

You may or may not know (or care), but I make it a point not to enter juried art shows. There’s no way on God’s earth I am going to have my work judged by some twit who has open contempt for “suburban art” and is just trying to pick up a few bucks in the boonies. I just happened to be at Silvermine on a day when artists who were rejected for their annual show had come to pick up their work. They were a disappointed, humiliated lot and based on what they were carrying out, not much worse that what had gotten in.  No one who has ever watched a juror at work in one of those competitions (ten seconds, in, out) would ever waste hard earned cash to enter, not to mention the soul-wrenching blow rejection gives to their ego. Over the years, I’ve encountered jurors who literally didn’t know what they were doing; they were picked because they had a “title” somewhere or knew someone. I’ve encountered jurors who were looking only for what was “in,” knew what was trendy and not much else. I’ve met jurors who gave preference to people they knew (or wanted to know) and so on and so forth.

Having said that, I confess, guiltily, that I was once a juror myself –only once. It was a Biennial exhibit in 1997 at the New Hampshire Institute of Art. I got the honor because they had just given me a one-man show and it was the least I could do in return. I recently came across the catalogue and discovered my forgotten Juror’s Statement. Here are a few paragraphs you might find interesting.

Random Jottings by a Guest Juror

The dangers inherent in trying to be a judge of art have been well known since the mid 19^th century when artists began to paint for their own satisfaction rather than commissions from a selected clientele. Every artist we deem significant today was turned down by the Salons of French academic art, leading today’s art critics and connoisseurs to be exceedingly cautious in judging work that is new and different. Even the 19^th c. Salon prizewinners, rich and famous in their time, are barely known today, while many of the “refused” are now considered “geniuses” and given places of honor in museums all over the world. What one generation values, i.e. perfection of finish, high-minded themes, becomes trite and facile to the next.

So much for trying to judge art.

I must confess that I assumed the responsibility of selecting work for Biennial 1997 at the new Hampshire Institute of Art with a great deal of trepidation. It’s not that I don’t feel knowledgeable: 50 years of studying, creating and teaching art on the university level have given me more than enough expertise. It’s just that I’ve also acquired some humility along the way. Art does not have “right” answers,,,two and two do not always equal four. Sometimes “five” is correct, or, there is no right answer. This is by way of consolation to those who were not chosen; nothing disturbs me more than to think that failure to be accepted into this show has discouraged anyone from continuing to produce art. Unfortunately, I have known artists who stopped working after being rejected for a show. If they could only have watched the process, seen the difficulty - in some cases impossibility - of evaluating work - they would not take acceptance or rejection as a valid critique.

First of all, I believe that it is crucial for an artist to show his or her work. No, you’re not going to be ‘discovered’ like a Hollywood starlet at a soda fountain, and your chances of selling anything are remote as well. But, it is important for an artist to see his work out of the context of the studio, with proper lighting, surrounded by work of his peers. By taking his art out of the environment in which it was made, an artist is better able to evaluate it, determine future direction. Also, whether one wants to admit it or not, it is flattering to see one’s work in a prestigious exhibition, listed in a printed catalog. The life of an artist has so little external monetary reward that even small gratifications are to be seized upon and enjoyed.

At this point, I’d like to say a few words about how I selected the pieces for the show. What were my criteria?

Most work was chosen “viscerally,” that is, by instinct based on experience but without any conscious thought. Later, when I started to analyze that process for this essay, I discovered I was using primarily two criteria. The first was whether the level of technical skill was appropriate to what the artist was trying to convey. Van Gogh certainly did not have or need the skills of a salon painter. On the other hand, a super-realist like Dali did need superb drawing ability. Abstract Expressionists must be able to work directly from the subconscious without any desire to create an image. In other words, I looked for mastery of those techniques appropriate to the “message.”

Technique can be learned and lots of artists have technical facility, but it is craft not art. Art is another matter; it requires developing a personal language. The artist must have a rich inner life and the ability to be a non-conformist. He must be able to think for himself. In choosing pieces for this show, one of the first things I looked for was a spark of originality, an idea I hadn’t seen a thousand times before. Most art today – as it always has been – is a pastiche of the fashionable and the familiar. Unfortunately, what passes for creativity and originality in today’s art is “shock value.’ – a short-lived and narcissistic attempt to gain notoriety in an exceptionally competitive environment without standards.

I found much to respect here – much to enjoy – and much to admire. Thank you for giving me the honor of selecting the work for this show

And, if you didn’t get selected, please keep working. I don’t want you on my conscience!

Renee Kahn