Group Critique: Friend or Foe?
[originally posted on 4/23/10]
Robin Dluzen
Group Critique
What is the function of critique? I suppose, in art school, there are two functions. First, it is an opportunity for an artist to witness firsthand how his/her work is perceived by an audience. In my opinion, the second–and this is the one that pertains to students—it is an opportunity to utilize one’s peers for gaining advice on reaching one’s goals of making successful work. This second function is what I am concerned with here.
Perhaps I should frame my experience of critiques. Very often, the critique does not come about through the artist’s own wishes, rather it is a requirement that presents itself whether one is confident and ready for it, or not. So the artist drags his/her stuff out and displays it in front of the group. From here, the critique could go in any direction, depending on context, specific group members and the artist’s relationship to them, or any amount of personal musings of any individual member of the group. This, admittedly, is a risk we all have to take; a risk that at best, it could be minimally helpful in attaining your goals, it could also be totally useless, or at worst, it could be an opportunity to get visibly upset and/or irritated in front of a large group of people including one or more prestigious faculty members, and say things you wish you didn’t.
So how does this all go so bad? Direct, democratic means of feedback sound like reasonable enough intentions, right? Well, under the guise of democratization, a hierarchy rather influences and determines the critique as a result of individuals working solely out of their own self-interests. As in life, the loudest guy wins over a consensus through mere volume, or number of theories/French philosophers cited in proving his point. And not only that, often the outcome of the critique is a vague consensus, halted in agonizingly stunted political correctness, which favors the familiar and the institutionalized over the controversial and the risky. Dave Hickey explains in Sarah Thornton’s Seven Days In The Art World: “My one rule…is that I do not do group crits. They are social occasions that reinforce the norm. They impose a standardized discourse. They privilege unfinished, incompetent art.”[1]
So often those doing the critiquing look for familiar dialogues in which to operate, and therefore an uneasiness occurs when presented with anything that deviates from an institutionalized form. This results in proposing that an artist must mimic a well known artist who works in a similar vein, in order to be able to speak about what you do with more authority. Following the advice of this kind of critique could result in an art student making work for other art students, a marginal, temporary group of viewers. This is, of course, if one is not already impressing the critiquing audience with some fantastically obscure technique or subject; obscurity is often a “get out of critique free” card, with which one can do whatever and still be regarded with respect (that is, until one is employing at length the obscurity to the point that it becomes gimmick; then you are in a whole other kind of trouble). And if you are not so far out of the realms of the familiar that the critique-ers are uncomfortable, then you are inevitably subject to the most inane of questions: “Do you think your work is contemporary?” which means, “I want you to know that I don’t like your work and I just want to be the guy who asks a tough question in front of everybody.”
So the question remains, why is it that people are just saying whatever they want in critique without any regard to the usefulness of their comments? This happens as a result of the separation that is set in place by the artist presenting his/her work in front of a critical audience. Those in the audience are reinforced and therefore emboldened by their strength in numbers. This can be a good thing: it could incite much needed constructive criticism. However, in my experience, it has the tendency to often be a bad thing, allowing for any and all useless comments that are not, in fact, constructive at all, and are merely a place to reiterate individual tastes, or an opportunity to expectorate one’s musings on some recent book or radio program completely unrelated to the art which is in front of him/her. In fact, may artists leave a critique feeling as though the objects presented were not even looked at, much less referred to.
There must be a reason, though, that this formula is still standard in art schools. Maybe critiques are more helpful for those critiquing and learning how to speak up about art than those who have work critiqued; or perhaps this is just reinforcing regurgitation skills.
What are the options, though? In what manner can actual, useful conversations about art in the academic context be prompted? Of course, in my experience, one-on-one, face-to-face conversation almost always works; when the gap is closed between the critique-er and the critique-e, and the hierarchy abolished, it (arguably) forces one to be held accountable for one says, for the critique-er is no longer superficially performing, but is actually being pressured to become engaged. But practically speaking, a model based on this kind of engagement could potentially be a nightmare to implement. How would you do it, just make everyone pair off everyday for one-on-one critique? That is a lot of responsibility for an individual artist, and we know no one likes to be held that responsible. Maybe there is no better model than the group critique, and we should take whatever this practice teaches us, even if it’s miniscule, like everything else in a graduate art program: through not truly knowing exactly how to structure higher education in a subjective field, schools just throw everything they’ve got at you, and you should be glad, and it is certainly worth it, if anything at all sticks.
About the author: Dluzen is about to complete a Masters Degree in Painting and Drawing, and is profoundly grateful for opportunities offered her through that institution, and has found this endeavor to be invaluable to, and irreplaceable for, her practice.
[1] Thornton, Sarah. Seven Days in the Art World. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2008.
