The most inspiring makers I know share their best advice. This issue is all about the criticism that makes us better.
issue 001, august 2016 a project of mojo by liberty riggs
TOUGH LOVE what’s the best piece of criticism you’ve ever received? Of all the questions I’ve asked my fellow creatives over the last year, this is my favorite. Criticism...it’s the big, judgey elephant in the room everytime you finish making something. For many makers, criticism is the hardest part of the creative process, an experience that we would like to avoid at all costs. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from the past year of interviewing creatives it’s this: criticism is the fastest, most effective way that we improve. In the next few pages you’ll hear from a few of my favorite photographers, writers and organizers, sharing the criticism that still inspires them. But first, a story of my own.
When I started my freshman year of art school, I thought I was hot shit. I mean, c’mon guys, I’d been doing this art thing for like four years already. Totally all figured out. Then I walked into my first collegiate drawing class… My professor was the head of the painting department, a middle-aged guy who bore a striking resemblance to Santa Claus, but who also spoke a mile a minute and would regularly meander off on hours long rants about poetry or physics in the middle of a critique. Every class we would spend the first half critiquing, and the second half drawing. Every class I would watch as a handful of my classmates tacked up torn out sketchbook pages for their weekly assignment, while I cockily hung my 18”x24” pieces. And every class I would get the same infuriating feedback from my professor, “it’s not enough.” Every week. And I’m a glutton for praise. Sometimes I wish I weren’t, I know it’s not a particularly attractive quality, but I’m only human. My inability to get affirmation from my professor drilled down into my self confidence…and my patience. By midterms, I’d had enough. Out of sheer spite I pushed myself to create a ludicrous amount of work in one week (3 drawings, each 4ft x 6ft to be exact). I basked proudly in the stunned silence that filled the studio as I unrolled ginormous drawing, after ginormous drawing. Showed you, I thought. Just before lunch it was finally my turn to be critiqued. It started off well enough classmates complimenting the sense of
atmosphere in my drawings, and pointing out some areas where I’d gone too dark or lost the details. But when it came time for my professor to heap on his praise, this is what I got instead: “They’re good. Beautiful. Really refined work…but it’s still not quite enough for a weekly assignment.” Are you freaking kidding me?!?!?!? I was crushed, and infuriated. How could this not be enough? What did I have to do to please this guy? Paint the Sistine Chapel?! For the last half of the semester I tried to one up myself; making progressively larger and more ambitious projects, working into the wee hours of the morning, inhaling a nearly-toxic amount of charcoal dust. I was angrily determined. And every week…I got the same response. Each time he highlighted different things I had done well and different areas for improvement, but each critique ended with the same refrain. It got so absurd that my classmates started to make comments to me in passing. “I don’t understand why he picks on you like that.” “Well, I thought your work was good.” “Maybe you just misunderstood what he was asking for?” Once we found ourselves at the end of the semester, lining up for our individual critiques, I was sullen and resigned. He was going to flunk me. I was sure of it. I had worked myself to the bone, sacrificed sleep and dignity in my pursuit of approval, and I would fail. I hung all of my work from the semester with slumped shoulders, and
then waited in silence for the final blow to fall. “What’s your major going to be again?” he asked. “Art history.” “No fine art at all? Not double-majoring? That’s a shame. You’ve got so much potential! We need you in the painting department. You should really consider it. One of my best students. I’m giving you an A-.” If you’re anything like 18 year old me, you’re probably pretty confused right now. I mulled over this experience for weeks before I started to understand. But here’s what I can say in hindsight: My professor was pushing me not because I had failed to meet the requirements of the assignment, but because he knew I was capable of more. I had to learn that making your best work has nothing to do with what someone else is hanging on the wall next to you. To be a lifelong creative, it is vital to understand and be able to live with ‘not enough’. Your work can always be better, your education is never finished. So how do you wake up with that reality every day and continue to create? To strive? It’s a practice that requires a good deal of acceptance and a good deal of perseverance. And that’s what I needed to learn. When putting together this issue of Makers Mouth, I knew it was this story from my own life that I needed to share. This is, by far,
the best criticism I’ve ever received. When I’m bored with a project and I just want to check out, these are the words I hear echoing in my head. When I am tempted to become too rooted in one way of making or thinking, this is my mantra. When I am tired, and frustrated, and just want to settle where I am - this is what I remember: This is good. This is beautiful. But it’s not enough.
“This is good. It’s beautiful. But it’s not enough.”
“If you deem something as ‘good enough,’ then it probably actually isn’t.” -dana m. chang, food photographer
AMALIA BUSSARD “The best criticism I’ve ever received was, and is from my mom. She has no problem telling me things aren’t as good as they can be. She knows what I’m capable of and isn’t afraid to hurt my feelings in order to push me forward.” food photographer // nutrition advocate amalia’s website
LYDIA PETTIT
CAITLIN BOYD
“To stop taking things personally…It’s taken a weight off and I’ve been able to interact with people in tough situations and solve problems in a much more reasonable way. I think putting yourself and your feelings aside professionally are part of growing up.”
“Not to do what I want, do what the wood wants - as crazy as I remember thinking this was, it taught me to not only have a good understanding of my materials, but to not take life and art so seriously. You work best when you are enjoying what you are doing and not stressing to the ‘nth’ degree.”
painter // gallery owner lydia’s website
jewelry artist caitlin’s instagram
VICTORIA HAAS “There was a time when I thought I knew everything about photography. I took a photography course in college but I would skip class all the time. So I totally bombed a few assignments and learned that I didn’t know everything about photography. I still don’t, and I’m okay with that. It’s better to be a curious child holding
a camera than an all-knowing pro-spectator. Also, the best camera is the one you have with you. It’s more advice than criticism, but it’s always true!” photographer // blogger // channel marketing manager for brit + co victoria’s blog
INGRID SCHINDALL “Find people that can help push you to be better and keep them around. It’s not a one man show, it never is. When I started, I spent a lot of time alone in the studio feeling like I was pushing against a really heavy wall. I was happy to be doing what I was doing but it can be hard to keep yourself motivated. The studio has grown in leaps and bounds since we have started focusing on bringing people into the studio to learn, and collaborate.” printmaker // book artist // studio owner ingrid’s website
“It’s really OK to fuck up.” - alice plati, photographer/filmmaker
MICHELLE GOMEZ “A colleague once said I was too confident for a job. It was the most frustrating, hurtful, ignorant and affirming piece of criticism I have ever received for so many complicated reasons. My confidence is what has gotten me so many opportunities and is naturally a part of my personality and cultural upbringing as a young hardworking Latina. I learned that my confidence is a threat to some and a magnet for the right kind of team that I want to work with in an organization. It’s also what keeps me afloat as an independent organizer.” curator //arts organizer michelle’s website
MARSHA LYNN HAMMOND “Don’t wait until you’re ready, you’re never ready.
D O N ’ T S H O OT FO R P E RFE CT. SH O OT F O R 8 0 % . It’s better to put something out there, then to spin your wheels. You can always modify and improve as you learn. Room to grow is not a bad thing.” artist // educator //cancer advocate marsha’s business marsha’s portfolio