Thursday, October 23, 2008

I Have an Opinion About That Opinion...

“You’re another pretty choreographer making pretty dances.”

A student artist we know recently heard those words from a faculty reviewer when her work was under consideration for a prestigeous opportunity. Well, not exactly those words. I’ve fictionalized the scenario a bit in the interest of protecting the innocent... and the guilty.

Imagine hearing that, though. The mind reels. Nothing damns art quite like “pretty,” and few things demean a person -- particularly a female person -- quite like being characterized by appearence alone. And the suggestion that one's work and one's self can be dismissed as part of a large class of similar mediocrities pretty much puts the bitter icing on this nasty slab of critical cake.

I can imagine only two reasonable responses, at least in the shortterm: retreat, as in yank down the shades, climb into bed and pull the sheets over your head for three days, or defensiveness. And -- repeat after me the wise words of Liz Lerman -- When defensiveness starts, learning stops.

That is the real shame of the instructor’s comment. In one condescending blow it ended the possibility of meaningful conversation with the student and the chance for anyone to do any learning. And this happened in an educational institution. Go figure.

Suppose -- and now I’m really fictionalizing because I’m postulating beyond anything I know about the actual situation -- suppose the teacher did have some concerns about limitations in the young artist’s aesthetic; suppose he (let’s assume it’s a he) observed the artist playing out self-image issues in ways that he believed were holding her work back; suppose he just likes edgier work; or suppose he thinks that socially conscious content trumps mere beauty (assuming that the two can’t coexist). Legitimate or not, all of those positions could be worthwhile starters to some kind of dialogue with the student, dialogue that might lead to insight, reflection, a fresh direction.

People often ask when the principles of CRP can be applied separate from the formal, four step process, and here’s a beautiful example of a situation where the neutral question (see CRP step 3) could be so helpful. Let’s try out a few:

--Tell me about your choice of subject matter.
--What is inspiring your work right now?
--Would you say that there’s a part of your personal story in this work? Tell me about that.
--How do you view your work in relation to that of your peers?
--How would you define your artistic concerns?
--How do you think about beauty?

And so on. The point is that they are conversation starters, not conversation stoppers, and that neutral quesions like these could lay the groundwork for trenchant opinion that the student might be ready to hear. Or a challenge for her to think about. Or some new curriculum ideas on the part of the professor (after all, if he's seeing so much "pretty" work from "pretty" students, doesn't he have the responsibility to change things?)

As it happened, the student artist seemed to be going into shut-down mode. She was actually scheduled for a Critical Response session on one of her works, but she bowed out on that opportunity, probably because she felt just too burned by the encounter of the day before. (Who could blame her?) And she was voicing some defensiveness too. I hope that defensiveness doesn't limit scope of her work in the future.

Whenever we say it, people reach for their pencils to write it down. So teachers, mentors, supervisors: cross-stitch this onto your pillowcases and sleep on it: When defensiveness starts, learning stops.

No comments: