Where Do All The Grad Students Go?
What is the impact of living in Paradise on the “creative process”?
 

Where have all the grad students gone? They’ve gone to the mainland every one! It seems that every time I’ve made it over to Honolulu from Maui to get my fix of inspired art, one of my stops, if I time it right, is to see what the Honolulu Academy of Arts has to offer in the annual Artists of Hawaii exhibit.

Most of the time I’m delighted by the number of fresh new works of recent graduates of the university. For the most part the pieces are thoughtful, introspective, and well crafted. A sign of good teaching and programming? What ever it is, seems to be working. They grace the walls of the new wing and, like so many flowers, they fade away. Where do these promising minds go and why is it that after the show, few of them remain to pursue their futures here?

There are the obvious possibilities; living space, art market, isolation from direct access to major art centers like Los Angeles, New York or Chicago (to name a few). I could take each one of these items and deal with them in great depth. Would they lead to the “answer” to the question? Is there something more to consider? What am I overlooking?

It takes a fair amount of money to live here, but the big cities aren’t that much cheaper. The art market/ audience is an illusive thing driven by the “Paradise factor”. We live in a tropical fishbowl attracting spenders from all over the world. But who are they really? And what do they expect or encourage from us? I think it’s fair to say that grad school art is not at the top of most outsiders’ lists of art to buy, collect, or support. That’s just your average tourist/visitor. What about the serious consumer/ user/ appreciator of things other than post card art? Some artists have found niches in mainland collecting markets, but often times these are not home grown artists, but transplants who bring their support sources with them. They may live full or part time on Maui, Oahu, Kauai or Hawaii, but the museums, collectors, buyers come to them. (Lucky artists!)

If we look to our university system to produce the bulk of these promising souls, the questions can take another turn. How many art students are from the home front? How many are from out of state and will return to the mainland/main stream?

While these questions and comments may explain or address the issues relating to the comings and goings of grad students, they lead me to thoughts about the other artists in Paradise and the artist in the real world. If we confine our discussion to contemporary “fine art”, can one produce and sustain a level of world class competitive art and afford to live here without a day job. But the big question is still “is work done here comparable to work done in Metropolis. Based on what I’ve seen over the years, I’d say for the most part, Yes, but….

Will we ever be able to say there is a legitimate Hawaii “scene” that’s the equal to the California; or New York scenes? I think its here, but fractured and on a fairly small scale by comparison and, for some of the reasons I hope I’ve addressed.

  

            WHO'S THE JUDGE?

When do we decide a work is finished and who should be the judge? If nobody but the artist is going to see a given work, it doesn't matter, but since the main purpose of any artform is to communicate something, it does matter.

Passing judgment is a curious thing. Alone with your art making tools you decide when a piece is satisfactory. You work for the most part in isolation. You want it that way so the distracting clutter of somebody else's presence is at least one factor dealt with. But, like most of us, you eventually "have" to show it to another person (audience). That may be an artist friend or a spouse. It's the next level of judgment - the "Other Person" factor.

How risky is that? It depends on how closely you are attached to the work or the person, but it's usually safe. The judging is now shared with someone close to you. Your ego and self confidence are relatively intact. Then the question arises; "How valid is that person's assessment of your work? The colleague may be knowledgeable, but how objective? The mate can supply emotional responses or support, but is this enough to test your metal as an artist?

What next? It depends again on where you are going with your artform. Is it a commercial "art as commodity" direction? Is it "high art"? The commercial gallery owner may judge the work based on the market they deal in. Is it tourist Art? Decorator art? How can they sell it? Will it appeal to the folks from Ohio who want to take home a memory? Does it match the couch? Pretty scary to you, but cut and dried to them. It pays their bills.

Screwing up the courage one way or another to face this judgment is no easy task. It requires some degree of detective work on your part to know who you are dealing with. Risk of rejection is always lurking behind every encounter of this or any other kind when we open ourselves up to scrutiny of an art form that's dear to us, by sometimes perfect strangers. At least it's a one on one thing.

Another form of judgment we subject ourselves to is the daunting challenge of the juried show. Not the one like the county fair where everything gets in and there are blue ribbons in abundance, but the one where you're in or out. Somehow, that's the most difficult to deal with. Most likely because it's so public.

But it's that kind of risk that in my opinion makes us better artists in the long run. Once we get past the fear of rejection threshold, we have to realize that the juror is just part of an editing process. Selecting which shows to enter requires the same detective work as the gallery choices.

It all comes down to that same self evaluation that compels you to make art in the first place. Putting your work in the pool with your contemporaries is the best way I know to gauge your progress, increase your inventiveness, and find an authentic voice for yourself. Stagnation is the downfall of those who are serious about their artwork.  Entering a variety of juried shows keeps fresh ideas coming, especially for the younger artists. It also exposes them to the attention of a broader range of support for their ideas. You could look at the process of subjecting your work to increasing levels of judgment as a poker game of rising stakes. How much of your ego, self confidence, and knowledge of your craft are you willing to bet?