Well, the midterm
crit went much better than I thought it would. I learned that my paintings are doing what I want them to do. I've been so exhausted after stressing out so much, though. When I went in on Wednesday, I had pretty much resolved in my mind that I'd done my best and that was all I could do; I couldn't change what I had or hadn't done, so I decided that I wouldn't be worried. Then, I walked into the first
crit (late, of course--it's my new habit this semester, since I only have to walk about three blocks to class instead of six) and panic washed over me. The art on the walls was super-conceptual, nothing like mine. I listened to the
artspeak that was being tossed about and, as we went from
crit to
crit with all of the more conceptual, slacker artwork, I began to worry. With one exception, I was probably one of the most figurative, realistic painters in the class. What would people say when I put my paintings up? Was I going to be told to work more loosely? To go more abstract?
I hung my paintings while the class was on another floor doing a different
crit. (We alternated
crit spaces to expedite the turnover, so we didn't have to stop and wait for the next person to install their work.) My paintings, which all seem rather large in my studio space, looked altogether pathetic on the large white wall, but, I told myself, there was nothing that I could do about that now. So, with time to spare, I went to the other
crit space and caught the tail end of the
crit before mine. As a class, we returned to the space where my work was and as people began to walk in and examine my paintings, a new burst of adrenaline was pumped into my system. Suddenly, the paintings on the wall were
my paintings. I saw all of the flaw, all of the places where things weren't resolved, all of the minute problems where the image on the canvas differed from the vision in my head. Of course, I knew that only I could see these things, but I still had my doubts. What if this was one of those instances when I wasn't being over-self-conscious and those problems were not only visible but strikingly obvious to everyone else? My hands began to shake as I sat back and watched my fellow students examine my work. I tried not to think about all of the unfinished parts. This wasn't a jury for an exhibition; it's midterms, the work doesn't have to be finished.
I had written down what I wanted to say about the work beforehand, because I knew that once I was asked to say something, coherent thought would take a coffee break and I'd stutter and stumble, grasping for the words that had come so easily only moments before when no one was looking at me. I managed to explain that these paintings were more or less meditations on my diagnosis of
Asperger's Syndrome; that they were about feeling isolated and alienated, but with the knowledge that there was hope that it wouldn't always be that way, though, at the same time, having a sense of solace in the knowledge that the problems caused by the
Asperger's are real and not just me being a crazy, neurotic lunatic.
The paintings were well-received. That is, they were received the way I had intended them to be. Words like "eerie," "dangerous," and "mysterious" were all used. Prague and Vienna were mentioned and I hadn't said a word about having gone to Europe, so I was glad that the work still had a sense of place more than a year after having been there. The film
Amadeus, one of my all-time favorite movies, was mentioned and that made me happy. There was also a lot of talk about theater sets and non-narrative narrative painting; the feeling that the actual narrative was happening just around the corner. I found the mention of theater very interesting as I love the theater and have been thinking about set painting/design and production design as a possible career. I was also surprised that when theater was mentioned, it wasn't used as a pejorative as it has been in the past to describe some of my work. And, to top it all off, I don't recall the word "illustration" or any of its cognates being used once!
Animation and film was mentioned, which was also intriguing because, about a year ago, I had a bit of a breakdown because, being a storyteller, I began to realize that maybe I should have gone into
filmmaking instead of painting since it was a less static form of expression. The thing was, I had already invested myself so much in painting... To switch majors, especially without any knowledge about
filmmaking would be academic suicide. So, I kept painting, hoping that the passion I had for it would drive me to something that would be meaningful. And, apparently, it has, because I'm finally beginning to feel as though I belong in the studio. I'm being true to myself and the product of that has been accepted without me having to build up some conceptual facade to try to appease everyone else.
I am aware, however, that this could all change at the final
crit this semester. I've seen it happen, where, you're told that the work it great halfway through the semester then when it comes time for finals, everyone turns on the work and tears it to pieces... So, I'm cautiously optimistic. I know that, no matter the consequences, I have to keep making
my work and being myself because everyone else is already taken.
