Playing the game

A few days ago I mentioned that I'm doing another crime scene for a school project. Here's how that turned out:

Now, anyone with a brain can see how many corners I cut here. I basically just took a photograph, converted it to black and white, and then painted behind the already-established values with Photoshop. I only had to draw the dead security guard, and even THAT was just me tracing a photograph I took. All in all, this project took me about two hours.

Last week was the day of the big crit. A crit, short for critique, is when all the students post their work on the wall, and the instructor, who is always a formerly successful artist him/herself, will flitter from piece to piece, droning on about what he/she would differently, back when they were working in the field a thousand years ago. Since these crits can last up to three hours-- three hours of one man or woman's self-centered monologuing in a lifeless, hallow voice; three hours of bad jokes and nervous stammers and gross miscalculations in itinerary-- no one is usually interested in growing from them. They just want to survive them.

Most of the other students had worked tirelessly on their projects. Fully rendered paintings in oil and acrylic. That kind of thing. They'd worked three weeks straight, and only I knew how many needless hours went into every detail.

I still got an A on my piece.

My advice to anyone going to art school is simple. Good grades are easy if you follow three simple rules:

1. Throughout the duration of the class, act frustrated with everything around you. Nothing seems to go your way; everything is challenge. You can't get the values right. You have difficulty with acrylic. Form and shape are just vague concepts. Straight lines? Forget about it.

2. When you present your piece, act disappointed. Not as if you are angry at yourself, just deeply saddened; as though you're not sure if art is how you want to spend your life. There's no enthusiasm in your voice as you explain your project to the class, only a helpless, hopeless call from a lost, little person.

3. Finally, when speaking directly to your teacher, act as if that teacher is your hero and role model in all of life. Agree with everything they say, and appear as if those ideas had never occurred to you before. However, it is important to remember that it is not necessary to follow through on their advice. If they question you about it, see rule number one.

I've been going to college for nearly eight fucking years. If there is one thing I've learned about school, it's that your grade has nothing to do with your work. It's not like math or science, where you fill out a form and a computer calculates it for you. Art doesn't work like that. Art is subjective. Untalented idiots get A's all the time, and why? Because in art school, your grade is just a judgment call made by your teacher. If a teacher believes a student is putting forth their best effort, and if that student seems honest and hard-working, then why SHOULDN'T they pass with flying colors? And on the contrary, if your teacher feels stupid around you, if you make them feel small or trite or neurotic or trivial, as though they didn't live up to nearly the potential they thought they once had, isn't it logical to assume they'll be inclined to fail you, given that they have that power?

It is a mistake to think that college professors are somehow above you, somehow famous, because they stand at a podium before a thousand youthful eyes. Often, it is the professors themselves who make this very mistake; it's why they're so comfortable with their own endless voice. At the end of the day, though, teachers are just as common and flawed as any of us. In real life, they whine and complain, or they're control freaks, or they're struggling with identity, or they're seedy and two-faced and pathetic. And it is in the classroom that many of them choose to vent their frustration. They will try torturing you with boring lectures. They will command perfection in every mindless, beaureaucratic detail. This is because in that arena, they feel superior.

In art school, you really don't have to concentrate on learning. You learn when you're trying to improve who you are; you learn when you want to grow as an artist. In school, though, you aren't trying to learn. You're trying to pass. You're trying to earn that piece of paper which will arm you in your war against the world. Your efforts are wasted on work. The only way to succeed is to concentrate on the professors; and on making them feel like they're the heroes they wish they were.

My Nemesis: Stardom is printing as we speak. The books will hopefully be arriving within the next few days. Once I have them, I will announce where they can be purchased online, and which convention I'll be attending.