Beyond this day and page
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
This narrowing of scope is perhaps something all artists go through, an unintended but understandable fixation on each work as singular, resultant from the necessities of repeated practice and technical study. A need to improve skill x or y, so the art becomes exemplars of that practice, rather than that practice being integrated in to something larger.
This can create an unintended loop wherein each skill is developed only in so much as to achieve proficiency, and then the next skill is picked up (or not) and the work becomes entirely about the display of this checklist of skills that define a “real artist” within that medium.
Now the pushing to develop and practice these skills is in no way negative. But there is a good chance when you first started learning skill x or y you did so for a reason. You wanted to get better at colour theory because there was a vibrant scene you wished to paint, you needed to learn better composition because you wanted to put out a series of Large format photos.
It is this methodology, one in which medium and mode of creation are intended to serve an idea, rather than become the idea themselves, that I feel many artists would benefit from reminding themselves of, especially in those early years of their career. Spending time first thinking of and deciding to explore concepts, then the way in which a craft can best realise, enhance, and expand upon those. Rather than setting upon a list of by rote skills that someone online decided defined a professional.
Now again I am not saying that you shouldn’t learn base skills, or that you can’t spend time practicing outside of thoroughly thought through high concept ideas, both these things are necessary. But what I am saying is that by reducing art to a series of stock skills, and by never exploring the interaction between those and the message, you are limiting yourself and the scope of your creative practice.
In time this focus on skills in isolation builds a toolbox that you carry it with you to every new idea, treated as separate from the idea itself. So every new idea is forced to fit within the confines of that boxes abilities “when all you have is a hammer…”. Whereas if you explore the interplay between your concept and the act of its creation, you remove the restrictive filter of your current tools.
You may realise that whilst you’re a photographer, who may have an expert command over composition, colour theory, and photoshop, that this current idea would be best served through combining cheaply sourced readymade objects, basic engraving, faux weathering, and simply displaying the resultant object.
That above example came from one of the inspirations for today’s writing, the work of An-My Lê. She is an artist whose work near inexplicably drew me in.
At her MoMA exhibition. With each piece of hers I saw I was increasingly captivated and awed, perhaps so much so because my initial reaction to the first piece I saw was near disinterest.
Primarily a photographer she captures stunning commentary on war and the land through her complex large format photography. But she is not limited to this medium, nor formats within that medium. Rather she evaluates her own thoughts and desires for the works content and concept, in relation to how the audience experiences the work,and therefore how best to deliver that concept.
This lead her to make faux lighters in echo of those used by G.I in the Vietnam war, inscribed with messaging seemingly diabetic but with underlying commentary . This flexibility of thought and action also lead her to have scenes from an explicit movie hand stitched in commentary on s*x work, fetishisation of foreign identities, unseen labour, and female movement. These works held far more impact and meaning expressed through these diverse mediums than they would have if limited by An-May’s resisting tools.
So obtain skills, practice, but don’t let old skills define new ideas.



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