The More for Me Miranda Sweeney
Artistic Development ARE6693 University of Florida
Progression.Graphite pencil. 2001.
My story begins before I even remember it. My family is full of wonderfully creative, talented people, all of which have played a role in my development. Always encouraging and always willing to let me explore. Learning to quilt with my grandmother taught me about patterns and the importance of color and color combinations. My mother used to paint, not on canvases, but on just about everything else. She embellished t-shirts, ceramics, and wood cutouts with wonderfully detailed paintings. I learned how to use a brush in many different ways and the importance of craftsmanship. My grandfather was a golfer by gift, but he built clubs and adapted machines to do what he needed them to do. He had been an engineer in the military; he was my everything and a huge influence on my sense of exploration. My summers were spent at his golf shop. I watched him make clubs, fix and re-fix, then manipulate his equipment. In comes my uncle, the techy. He put a Macintosh computer in the office…I played for hours. There was a graphics program that would allow you to manipulate the swirling, geometric graphics with a few key strokes, and then freeze and print the image. I was in heaven. My aunt was always one to encourage us, and support our creative endeavors. She is cultured in the arts, and ensured that we had experiences with them at a young age. She would take us to plays and fine restaurants. She has
Summer. 2002. Cotton. I made this quilt in a fabrics course during my undergraduate studies. I used one a sewing machine that was more than 30 years old. I felt connected to my grandmother more than I had in a long time. It was her, but it was me at the same time.
a keen sense for design, and taught me how to arrange a room, set a table, and dress for success. Another aunt, on my father’s side, owned a ceramics shop. It was a paint-your-own-pottery place where people would come to paint decorative cast ceramic pieces. This is where I learned about clay, and I have been fascinated by it ever since. Each one of these individuals has played a significant role in my life and my creative development. In walks formal education. In elementary school I remember winning poster contests and banner designs for class projects. Everything I remember doing in school was representational. Creating banners and displays with illustrations of dolphins, whales, and endangered species for the environment club
I had started. Drawing awareness posters for seatbelt safety and fire safety for poster contests was also part of my skill set. On my time, I liked to explore lines. I would draw these detailed swirling line designs into various recognizable shapes and my aunt would copy them so I could share them with my friends. They were like my own coloring books. My middle school art courses really opened my eyes to my own talents. I continued the representational works in school, adding perspective drawings and more technical skills. I don’t recall my teacher’s name and really only recall one project in my three years of middle school. We were given the task of creating a mobile with colored wire and flat shapes. In retrospect, Calder likely inspired the assignment, however, I wasn’t introduced to any artist or art history references for a while. High school was it for me. It is not only where my talent flourished, it was where people outside of my family recognized it. My teacher, Mr. Knight, saw my ability to replicate just about any image he put in front of me. After the first few weeks of my freshman introductory art class, he moved me into advanced level courses, where I stayed for the Night Bloom. 1998. Prismacolor and acrylic paint. This image was replicated from a photograph in a magazine. I have always been drawn to the beauty of flowers, and continuously practiced rendering them as realistically as possible.
remainder of high school. As a high school student, I learned the art of imitation. According to
Cannatella (2012), “art education in the form of imitation as representation should be an important aspect of most art educational programs” (p.100). I received a very traditional form of art education in high school. We were given the task of finding images that were appealing to us, and to replicate those images using whatever medium we were most drawn to. This style of teaching seems ancient to me as an educator now, however, as Cannatella suggests, “the student
learns to manipulate his medium in order to explore, discover, create, and reason” (p. 108). For everything I deem missing from my high school art education, I will say my art teacher provided opportunities for us to see art outside of our small community. He arranged field trips, workshops, and organized a trip to Italy after graduation. I also continued my interest in technology with art in high school. I became an intern in the design department of a local carpet manufacturer, Mannington Commercial. I learned about design, pattern, color, and about business. I also learned about getting the community involved in the arts, as I was responsible for organizing a monthly art show for local schools in the showroom of the company. This is also how I sold my first work. It was a replica of a painting of a Native American; a big wig from 3M bought it for one hundred dollars. I am still not sure how I feel about it. As Hamblen (1995) notes, “if one adheres to the mimetic orientation … in instructional methodologies, one believes that artistic value is determined by the extent to which the student is successful in accurately rendering a representational image or in expressing an ideal, universal quality” (p.115).
Unfinished. 1998. Prismacolor. This image is similar to the one I sold. I found and replicated paintings of Native Americans found in an art magazine. I apparently grew bored with the subject matter because I never finished this image and haven’t been interested in anything similar since. I question why I would sign my name to an image that wasn’t really mine to begin with.
If this is the case, I guess I was a successful artist in high school. Undergraduate Eye Opening It didn’t take long for me to recognize everything that had been missing from my high school art courses. My first official drawing class as an undergrad at the University of Georgia was the most influential in my decision to become an art educator. My professor was stern,
sometimes harsh, but always straightforward and honest. He required strict adherence to his assignments, but also applauding slight deviances. Everything had purpose and reason. I learned to draw from observation, the importance of composition, and most importantly, I learned that loved everything about it. Long gone was the art of imitation. Fixative. 2001. Graphite pencil. My first drawing class as an undergraduate taught me to draw from observation, a skill that I had never developed or practiced before. My professor required a border on every page and we had to number every assignment. I took it upon myself to extend outside the borders…he never reprimanded me for it, I think he enjoyed that I wasn’t afraid to do without asking. So I did a lot of things without asking.
I found that I had a knack for extending myself outside of the requirements my professors were asking of us. My projects were often unconventional, and experimental for me. I felt free to try new techniques, mediums, and concepts. I explored every genre I could get into. Once I made it beyond the introductory classes and began my studies in art education, I made it a point to continue hopping around despite my professors urging to choose a focus. My philosophy was simple. I was likely going to be asked to teach a variety of different artistic subjects, why should I not familiarize myself with as many as I can. That’s just what I did. Drawing, painting, printmaking, ceramics, jewelry, sculpture, graphic design and new media were all part of my undergraduate art education. It was a fantastic time of exploration for me as an artist and as an individual.
Figure. 2002. Charcoal. I had never drawn figures before. I w as fascinated in the concentration required and the techniques I was taught to capture the correct proportions. The three-‐hour classes never seemed long enough.
I learned that I love to draw figures, and creating graphic prints with the meditative, repetitive technique of relief printing. I learned that I love to hand build ceramic pieces and I am terrible at throwing on the wheel. I learned that I have a very clean, geometric aesthetic quality when I design jewelry pieces. I learned that installation sculpture means so much more than just putting pieces in a specific space. I learned that I will never be able to keep up with technology in art but it sure is fun trying. The most important thing I learned from my undergraduate art education is that you have never learned enough. There is always more. The More for Me Eight months after graduating from UGA I landed my first teaching job at Dacula High School. A rural school, relatively small compared to the surrounding area, and very similar feeling to my own high school. I dove in headfirst. I think the introduction of VCAE, Visual Culture Art Education, in my undergrad programs influenced not only my teaching pedagogy, but my artistic style as well. I started to pay closer attention to the visual stimulation that I was influenced by on a daily basis. I also started taking pictures. I wanted to teach photography, but had never been inside a darkroom, so I took a community class at the Atlanta College of Art. The course changed my preferred medium of expression. I started taking pictures, especially of people. Since my first figure drawing studies and self-portraits, I’ve been intrigued by people, so I frame them with my lens, point and shoot. I try to capture the innocence of children, the wisdom of
Anniversary. 2010. Digital photograph. This is a photo of my parents taken for their 25th Anniversary. The photo says so much about who they are as a couple and how they have managed to stay together for 25 years. Laughter is the answer.
the elderly, the love shared by a couple, and all the quirky eccentricities of teenagers. I try not to let the camera get in the way of expressing who the subject is, or who I am as the photographer. As a mother of two, full time teacher, and graduate student, I don’t get to practice as an artist as much as I would like. I enjoy doodling and have used it to create works, sometimes collaboratively with my students. Let me back up a bit. My best friend became fond of “sugar skulls” after seeing one in a design on the reality show, Project Runway. I decided to paint her
one as a gift, and it quickly became a hobby. As a part of this hobby, I put poster board down on my desk at school, and when I get a minute or two, I like to doodle. I encourage students to add to the drawings. The doodles became illustrations of “sugar skull” characters. I would give the drawings a personality and a name, and when I finished them, I would let a lucky student take the drawing home.
Occasionally a student would
Mariposa. 2010. Sharpie marker on poster board. This skull was named w ith the help of a passing through Spanish teacher. He stopped to look and said “mariposa – it’s Spanish for butterfly” and I knew that it had to be her name. She (the skull) was nicknamed “Mari” because she just so happened to be adopted by a graduating student named Mary.
help me uncover the personality of the skull through some design advice or insight, and even coloring parts of the image with me. The students loved to watch the drawing develop and would constantly ask, “Who’s next?” as far as the personality I would create. The sugar skulls have filled a void for me, allowing me to create something even with the constraints that keep me from creating as much as I would like to. Part of the reason I chose the graduate program at the University of Florida was the inclusion of studio electives as a requirement. What better way to make time to create than making it a required part of continuing education? The courses I’ve taken that require creative projects to correspond with the research have forced me back into making time to do what I love. My favorite projects have been centered on the influence of visual culture and using art for social awareness and advocacy. In Duncum (2002), he claims, “linking the world of art with the world of students is what all good teachers do” (p.7). I think this is true for my practices as an artist and as an educator. I try to make meaning of the world I live in by trying to capture the essence of the lives that surround me as well as the external influences on those lives. I try to do the same in my classroom. Incorporating lessons and projects that force students to be mindful of their influences, their choices, and the consequences. I allow them to explore, question, and play with media, technique, and concepts and modeling these behaviors is the best way I know to encourage them. “Images and artifacts from popular culture’s terrain lie in the everyday and are invested with meaning and pleasure” (Tavin, 2003, p.198). If I am to teach my students and
support their creative development, it is imperative that I model creative practices in my classroom. I show my students the work I do for my classes and talk about the importance of continuing their education beyond the classroom, beyond, high school, and even beyond undergraduate degrees. I sit with them and draw or doodle while we discuss their current projects or what they did over the weekend; I question their decisions and urge them to question their influences. I implore them to speak up and speak out about issues that concern them with their art and their voices. The more for me is found when I’m creating for a cause, for a purpose, and when I see my students doing the same.
Nothing Fits. 2011. Acrylic paint, magazine images. This project was tough because it made me think about how I let visual culture influence my own body image and self worth. The image is a life-‐size self-‐ portrait outlined by images filling the difference in space of my actual size and how I perceive my size. The title is reflective of what I constantly hear myself say and how I don’t fit into society’s image of beauty.
References Cannatella, H. (2012). What it is and that it is. Journal of Aesthetic Education, 46(2), 100-110. Duncum, P. (2002). Back to the future:[Re][De]fining art education. Art Education, 55(3), 6-11. Tavin, K. (2003). Wrestling with angels, searching for ghosts: Toward a critical pedagogy of visual culture. Studies in Art Education, 44(3). 197-213.