Ditch it, says a business consultant. We artists could learn something from him.
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| Blizzard, by Carol L. Douglas. We all want to be outside, so my students painted out the windows yesterday. I’ve done that a few times myself! |
One of my students just came back from wintering in Australia. Weâve been practicing formal analysis in her absence. That means we consider a painting on the basis of its formal structure. This isnât a like-vs-dislike process, but rather an objective one, talking about how the painter uses various techniques to advance his goals.
The protocol for criticism in my studio has always been the sandwich rule. We begin by pointing out something the person did well. We then discuss what might have been handled differently. We finish by pointing out something else that the person did well, so that each session ends on a positive note.
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| Snow squall, by Carol L. Douglas |
This method has been mocked as âfluffy bunâmeatâfluffy bun,â but that misses the point. Most people are all too aware of their failures and not aware of their strengths. Catch them doing something right and theyâre likely to repeat it.
Since I hadnât given my wanderer adequate instruction, she was lost. It didnât help that the painting we were analyzing (by another student) was a stunner. It was all too easy to gush.
Thereâs nothing wrong with that, and weâll continue to use the sandwich rule for our critique sessions. My goal in practicing academic criticism with them was different. I wanted to them to start seeing how form, shape, repetition and rhythm work together in painting. But I also wanted to take the judgment out of looking at art.
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| Tree line, by Carol L. Douglas |
The Feedback Fallacyâan article thatâs about to be released as a bookâtakes aim at the pernicious practice of feedback. Marcus Buckinghamwrites for a business audience, but what he has to say is applicable to the arts, in schools, and in families. He says our culture of criticism as based on three lies:
- The best way to help you is to show you something youâre too blind to see for yourself;
- Learning is like filling an empty vesselâyou lack abilities and itâs up to someone else to teach you;
- Great performance is universal and measurable. Once defined, it can be transferred from one person to another, regardless of the recipientâs strengths and weaknesses.
Focusing on an imaginary standard of greatnessâand how we fall shortâdoesnât enable learning. In fact, it shuts it right down. Learning happens when we see how we might do something better, not when our errors are pointed out to us. I can tell a student a hundred times to not dab, but it isnât until I pick up his brush and show him how to make a proper mark that he will understand what ânot dabbingâ means. And it wonât be until he has made great marksâuniquely, idiosyncratically his own, with power and confidenceâthat he will have mastered mark-making.
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| My backyard, by Carol L. Douglas |
Positive reaction, done right, is harder than negative criticism. You need to catch a person doing something right before you can comment. That means constant vigilance and a rock-solid understanding of process. It requires being able to differentiate between idiosyncrasy, style, and the real technical issues that can cause a painting to fail. Above all, it requires confidence. Nobody is supportive from a position of weakness.
We live in a corrosive culture, and it affects all our interactions. But one thing we can do is ditch the unnecessary feedback in the studio. If youâre ever wondering whether a âbit of adviceâ to another painter is a good idea, just donât.
