“It’s not hard to please artists–or any other creative people–with compliments. Any enthusiastic generality will do. And while you are not there as an art critic, Miss Manners has a kind remark even if you really hate the work: “You must be so proud.”
Um, wait…what?!
OK, Miss Manners, step aside. Here’s some actual etiquette for talking to and working with artists.
You’re welcome.
GALLERIES: Respect the relationship.
RULE:If you found something you like at a gallery or show or through an independent art dealer, that is where you need to conduct your business.
WHY: When collectors circumvent the gallery–usually because they think they can get a deal by cutting out the middleman–what they are really doing is putting the artist’s business at risk.
Yes, this actually damages the artists career–the art community is small.”
Faithless artists are usually dropped from the gallery as soon as this behavior is discovered. Losing this relationship can ultimately ruin an artist’s career because they lose the stability and benefits of having someone represent them and explain their work and pricing system.
“Over the last few years,” Billyo added, “there have been many artists leaving galleries and going out on their own to sell their artwork. I have learned that there is a direct relationship to having a long-standing association with a respected gallery and being able to maintain solid prices for your work.”
ETIQUETTE: Work with the dealer, be transparent, and ask lots of questions; it’s their job to educate you and help guide you through the process. And, if meeting the aritst is important to you and, in my opinion, should be part of your final decision, have the dealer facilitate.
Think of it this way, when you try to cut the gallery out of their rightful commission it’s like asking your doctor if you can avoid paying the hospital by going to his house and having him perform surgery there, at a discount.”
EXHIBITIONS: If you saw the work of art at a show but the show’s over and the work didn’t sell, who gets the commission if you buy it?
RULE: People can argue this point, but in my mind, if you saw something you were interested in but didn’t buy at the show venue, it’s still considered–for a reasonable amount of time after the close of the show–proper to either run the sale through the exhibition or have the artist forward on the commission to the show.
WHY: Artists need shows and shows need reliable artists. It’s a great relationship when it’s working in harmony. Collectors help keep the harmony by understanding and supporting this important business relationship.
ETIQUETTE: Juried and invitational shows do have an actual end date, so, realistically, if it has been a month or so or if the work of art has since been sent to a gallery, the gallery would then take the commission, not the show. Often national exhibitions are established to support a cause; consider supporting the cause no matter when you finally decide to make the purchase of a work you found at the show.
Collectors need to be reminded of the expenses incurred when putting together an exhibition, whether by a non-profit for a cause or a private gallery.”
DISCOUNTS: when is it OK to ask for or expect a discount?
RULE: Discounts are for devoted clients who work with a dealer fairly exclusively and buy considerable amounts of art from that dealer or buy numerous works at one time.
WHY: In the days before discounting art became ubiquitous, dealers used this as a perk for their best collectors. Commonly, 10% was, and still is, the amount which would be split between the gallery and the artist, with each side absorbing 5%.
The biggest problem with discounts, if done frequently, is that they devalue the artist’s work across the board, meaning everyone who purchased work without a discount has, in essence, overpaid.
I remember a collector who commissioned me to do a painting,” recalled Dan Young, long time Coors Show artist. “It was back when I was starting out and really needed the money. I did the painting but then the guy asked for a discount. I wouldn’t do it. I walked away. Twice. Finally, he agreed to the price and bought it, but the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth.”
ETIQUETTE: Before asking for a discount, collectors should understand how prices are determined.
Often, painting prices are calculated by the square inch, e.g. a 16×20 is 320 sq in, at $10 per, the painting will be priced at $3,200. Pricing editioned work can be determined by edition size, how complicated the work is–how many plates for a hand-pulled print or how large for a bronze–and importance or relevance, especially with photography. THEN, pricing structure is predicated on artist’s longevity, the stability of their prices, and what the market will bear.
How long has the artist been working professionally?
How do they price their work?
What national exhibitions have they been invited to and participated in?
What kinds of publicity have they garnered–magazine editorials, awards, honors, inclusion in major collections?
I don’t raise my prices every year,” Dan said. “I may bump them 10%, if I do. Sometimes I only raise them 5%, depending on the market. Artist have to know their market and raise prices in a smart way; collectors want the value of their paintings to go up.”
“People who truly connect and value my work,” Carm added, “rarely ask for a discount.”
COMMISSIONS: no art directing allowed.
RULE: The aritst is not an extension of you.
WHY: Commissioning an artist doesn’t give you free rein to dictate anything beyond the size, medium, and subject matter you are interested in acquiring. When starting the commission process, always keep in mind that the artist doesn’t live in your head and you do not do the work that he or she does for a living.
I’ve realized over the years,” said California landscape aritst Kim Lordier, “that trying to get inside someone’s head to understand what they are feeling is very difficult.
Now my process for a commission is to create that balance of sharing ideas then allowing for first right of refusal. If I’m presenting the collector with a piece that I am proud of, it will be worthy of one of my galleries. That has only happened once, that a collector didn’t want the commission. But, then they came back six months later wanting to buy the painting and it had already sold.”
ROSE’S DOS AND DON’TS FOR COMMISSIONING WORKS OF ART
Let go of any preconceived concepts and allow the artist to create.
Once you agree on a concept, price, and timeline for completion, sign a contract.
You can ask for updates throughout the process but that’s it–no surprise studio visits, no emailing color suggestions or photos of your dog that you’d like the aritst to slip in.
Many artists won’t take commissions, so don’t expect everyone to jump at the chance. (Nearly every artist I know has a horror story about a client who decided, mid-process, to dictate changes and treat the artist like a servant. The end result: either the client was fired or the finished work was rushed just to get rid of the client.)
Consider using a dealer or consultant to manage the process; they can work through issues that arise and can keep the project on target.
Expect to pay 50% down before the artist gets started. Enter this relationship knowing you won’t get this money back if you don’t like the finished work.
Do NOT ask an artist to replicate a work of art that already exists, especially a work of art by a different artist! Original art, whether commissioned or not, is just that: original and unique.
My two-cents: If you’re really wanting a specific vision, consider taking art lessons. Who knows, maybe there’s an artist in you struggling to get out!
STUDIO VISITS: a time honored tradition.
RULE: Never show up unannounced. Always confirm your appointment. Do not assume you can buy anything out of the studio and that you can get the work you see at “wholesale.”
WHY:Studios are sacred spaces. They are personal and creative, but also professional places of business. So, plan for an amazing behind-the-scenes opportunity by researching the artist before you go. You’ll have a base of knowledge so you can jump right in.
I rarely invite collectors to my studio,” said Lordier. “Sometimes it feels like people are rummaging through my lingerie drawer. I feel judged, feel compelled to make excuses for why this or that is at a certain stage, even though that is not the visitor’s intent.”
ETIQUETTE: Keep judgements to yourself. Art in a studio will be in various stages of completion. The artist has a vision, whether he or she is struggling through a work, trying something new, or trying to make something work that, so far, has been fighting them all the way. Generally, artists will not have this work out for you to see, so don’t rummage around the studio.
Ask questions. Seriously, if you don’t know something, ask. If the artist uses a term or refers to some aspect of the work that you’ve never heard about, have them explain.
Tell the artist what you like and what interests you about the work. This is a great way to find out more about technique and what inspired it. Alternately, if there is a work you don’t care for, you could ask about it–without judgement–so you can learn why the artist believes it is successful.
Visiting artist studios is one of the best parts of my job as a curator; I always look at it as a privilege. If you’re invited to an artist’s studio, plan for at least an hour, do your homework, and don’t be afraid to ask questions–just keep it professional.
Still have questions? Send them my way. Chances are other collectors are wondering the same thing.
I was recently asked to write a response to a person who was upset by Sophy Brown’s depiction of horses that we are showing in this year’s Coors Western Art Exhibit & Sale. This was a bit of a head-scratcher for me; how were Sophy’s unique, thought provoking paintings of horses upsetting? Sure, you have to dig a little deeper for meaning, maybe ask some questions…perhaps get a little more of the backstory but what’s so troubling about that? Heck, I could give her context galore!
So, I tackled her grievance head on and wrote:
No horses were harmed in the creation of this work!
I went on to talk about how Sophy grew up in England, the land of great equine artists such as Munnings and Wootton and Seymore. And how she herself was a horsewoman, dedicated to the welfare of horses!
Then I hesitated. Was this person really interested in art or was she simply wanting to vent a preordained opinion?
"Lord Astor's High Stakes with Sir Gordon Richards Up at Newmarket", Sir Alfred Munnings, 20.5x27 inches
Ah, yes. Hope springs eternal.
I decided to take a chance–at this point, I was kind of on a roll–and went on to explain that, not only were Sophy’s paintings anything but an aggrandizement of the abuse of horses, they were actually not about horses at all.
Sophy Brown’s paintings were, in fact, self-portraits.
I realized this was a lot to take in, especially for someone who most likely searches for literal meaning in art, but it is the key ingredient to accurately viewing Sophy’s work. Seeing horses in difficult predicaments is tough, I agree, but I thought if she knew these works, for the most part, are figments of the artist’s imagination and, more importantly, that they are an outward representation of her very real inward pain, grief, anger, sorrow emanating from a place of unfathomable loss, perhaps she’d register some understanding beyond her own limited vision?
Real art conveys emotions, truth, feelings
At some point in writing this response to a person I have never met, and for all I know, has no interest in art but, as I mentioned earlier, probably just wanted to vent, I realized that this was a much larger conversation and one that probably wouldn’t be well received via email.
And yet I went on, talking about how the manifestation of grief could be seen on the surfaces of Sophy’s work–thrown paint splatter and dripping down the canvases, spray paint obliterating aspects of the work, and carved mark making peeling and pulling away at the layers.
"Coverage", Sophy Brown, 48 x 62.5 inches, mixed media
Indeed, some of Sophy’s paintings from two and three years ago, when she first went back into her studio after so much debilitating loss, were pure madness, pure emotion. Pure art.
As a curator, my job is to put together a collection of fine art. I’m sure there are many definitions of fine art but an important aspect, in my mind, is that it is a reflection of the artist’s soul. Patrons know it when they see it because it stirs emotion inside. This emotion has propelled viewers, at times, to try to destroy great works of art, I think, as a way to escape feeling so deeply. But for me, I know I’ve put together a truly important collection of work when patrons are moved by the feelings stirred inside them.
As I concluded my letter, I asked this woman to go back, now armed with context, and take another look at Sophy’s work. Here’s her response:
Dear Ms. Fredrick,
Thank you for getting back to me. I can only imagine her loss. We will have to agree to disagree on fine art vs the glorification of animal abuse. I still feel the way I do about her pieces on the site.
Have a Merry Christmas.
"Lockdown", Sophy Brown, 20 x 18.5 inches, mixed media
Agree to disagree?
Merry Christmas?!
“You,” I wrote back, “have a cold, cold heart.”
Don’t worry, I didn’t hit send because, honestly, would it have mattered?
She never would have understood that we all carry our own baggage into every experience. To accurately interpret art, the viewer has to be aware of this and then get out of the way and let the art speak. Sophy isn’t asking anyone to like her work; it is hers alone, her heart, her soul. She is not creating for an audience; she is creating to find meaning in this messed up world.
All we need to remember is what a privilege it is to bear witness.
Navajo artist Steve Yazzie is circling back to painting after year of exploring video and film and installation art. I first saw Steven’s work at the museum at the Institute of American Indian Art. He was part of the show curated for Crystal Bridgesby Mindy Besaw, Candice Hopkins and Manuela Well-Off-Man, called Art for a New Understanding, Native Voices, 1950 to Now.
The work they had was an installation of his Drawing and Driving project. He had built a cart and attached a small easel to the steering wheel and frame. The idea was to hop on and set off down a hill and at the same time, start sketching what you saw flying by at ever increasing speeds. Fun. Harrowing. But, yeah, fun!
As part of the project, which began at a residency at Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture. It grew into a larger venture when he took his vehicle to other sites in the West and invited fellow artists and friends to hop on board and give it a go. And though the idea may seem absurd–attempting to draw while steering a cart down a hill–it’s kind of how we’re seeing the land, whistling down the highway and top speed, glimpsing bits and pieces out of the corner of an eye. We take it all for granted, so why not draw and drive, if only to scare the bejesus out of yourself and, maybe, snap yourself out of the trance of modern life if only for a short, rough ride?
The painting in Allegories of Transformation is part of Steven’s return to the studio to paint. Check out his website for his many videos and other paintings. And, of course, to read more about Steven, go to his site and ours at the PACE Center.
Diego Romero’s work does this crazy thing: it draws you in because it looks like very old, traditional pottery but then, when you get up close, it’s like a little kid jumped out from a closet and shouted BOO!
Lest Tyranny Reign, 7.5×17 inches, ceramic
He’s clearly having way too much fun.
Diego’s pottery is based on techniques that are thousands of years old. Holding his work in your hands is surprising. It feels like touching an egg. It’s lighter than it looks and, as he points out, incredibly durable. And yet, if you drop it, it will shatter.
American Diastrophism, 30 x 27.7 inches, lithograph
One of his newest pieces, Lest Tyranny Reigns, is based on the story of the great Pueblo leader Pope who held off the Spanish invasion for a hot second. And because of his bravery and cunning, he has become a folk hero, the story of which lends itself beautifully to Diego’s work which gives a nod to the comic book illustrators he loved to read since childhood and still collects to this day.
Comic books, American films and pop art also influence his print work, which he creates with Black Rock Press in New Mexico. He loves appropriating cultures–after all, he’s seen plenty of people appropriate his culture. But it’s such a wonderful way to start a conversation: draw people in with something that is known and comfortable, then add the twist, the thing that makes you stop and think and ask questions.
To learn more about Diego, visit his gallery, Shiprock and check out our site, PACE Arts.
This was a refreshing interview on so many levels. First, Cara is such an open person, so willing to talk about herself as she relates to the work in a very personal way.
Water Memories, photograph, 40×40 inches
I left this interview feeling incredibly inspired.
One of the things that stays with me–that I think of almost every day–is how she decided to invest in herself and her career. She’d been making photographs and exploring themes of her culture and, at the same time, being a mom and wife and all the other myriad roles women artists take on. Then is occurred to her: she needed to take some of her savings and invest in her career. The result are the three photos we have in the Allegories of Transformation exhibition–and that are featured in the video interview I did with Cara.
Ufala Girls, photography, 40×40 inches
These photos exploded on the scene and made Cara a known entity. They have since been collected by major museums including the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture, and the American Museum of Britain.
I had so many questions for Sonya Kelliher-Combs that I didn’t know where to start. An Inupiaq artist from Alaska, Sonya’s work feels different than most, like it’s of the earth, as if her installations were harvested from the land not made in a studio. Pieces like Red White and Blue Secrets are sewn and stapled and adorn with beads and fibers and hair. Each segment is a word in a poem, a note in a song; they are unique and can stand alone, but together a story emerges.
Red White and Blue Secret, Variable size Cotton fabric, human hair, glass beads, nylon thread, steel pins, 50 parts
Sonya uses everything, as is her ancestor’s tradition–indeed, the tradition of all native people–but that’s where tradition ends. She takes objects and uses them to form ideas. Red White and Blue Secrets is made from an American flag. The shapes are that of walrus tusks, an animal Alaskans have subsisted on and needed for clothing and shelter. And the tusks, they were uses in adornment to ward off evil. Interesting juxtaposition of materials and ideas.
Mark, Polar Bear is made from polar bear fur. The animal had been harvested for food and the hide given to Sonya to create her art. The fur is adhered to another flag.
If you ever get the chance to stand in front of her work, I urge you to do so. It is quite yet incredibly powerful. As Americans, we bring strong ideas of country and land, power and boundaries. Sonya’s work challenges all these notions. And, truly, this is the artist’s job: challenge ideas, show us the world in a new way, make us think and ask questions.
To learn more about Sonya, check out her page on the PACE Center site or on her website.
Oh, Joe Feddersen. What a beautiful soul. To hear him tell the journey from his home in Omak to college in Wisconsin to teaching at Evergreen College in Washington and then back home, to Omak, back to the place where he is surrounded by his family and friends, members of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai tribes, is so centering. Home is where you find your people, the ones who know your stories and share them.
Freeway with HOV Lanes, 6.75×6.5 inches, waxed linen
Over the course of his career, Joe has eloquently kept his vision and his voice to the fore. And, equally as important, he has recognized that when things become easy or feel repetitive, he has, without regret, moved on to explore new and different ideas. Take for example, his weaving. They are all based on traditional weaving techniques and patterned work of his ancestors but with a twist. The traditional idea of patterning was based on things like crops and animal shapes. Joe takes that concept and bases his work on the patterns he sees every day: HOV lanes and parking lots.
In our conversation, we talked mostly about the weaving and his work bringing his Native American community together–young and old–to create a book on print work. But, if you have the time, check out some of Joe’s other works at Froelick Gallery. And to read more about Joe, go to his page on ourPACE Center site.
I took title for the PACE Center exhibit, Allegories of Transformation, from an essay Norman Akers wrote. The full quote is:
The use of narrative in my workacts as a continuation of theNative American storytelling tradition.Ancestral tribal stories and sayingsexplained the world in which we lived.New and emerging stories serve asallegories of transformationin an ever-changing world.
Alien Conquest, 20.5×15 inches, lithograph
Norman is Osage and teaches at University of Kansas. Throughout our conversation, two clear ideas remained ever-present: where he finds himself in the land is directly influenced by his deep sense of home. And, as an Osage, he is constantly looking to the future; the idea of looking back in time and painting that version of reality is an anathema to Norman.
Dark Reign, 18.75×15 inches, lithograph
It was interesting to dig into this idea of home, especially with someone like Norman whose ancestors have had a very different experience with the concept, from being migratory to being removed from their lands. For Norman, home is a vast place that reaches from the prairie lands his ancestors roamed and hunted t, the small town he grew up in. His sense of home, then, is not necessarily attached to specific objects–a mailbox, an easy chair, pots and pans in a kitchen, but is instead a more conceptual idea with a broader reach.
Uneasy Welcome, 20.75×16.5 inches, lithograph
And, being forward facing, there is an optimism Norman brings to his work. He was, early on, a plein air painter. He still considers himself to be a painter of landscapes but these landscapes are the interior spaces in his mind, his heart and his soul. The paintings and print work he does now sheds light on his travels and speaks to his ancestors, but is decidedly contemporary in every way possible from subject matter to technique. His work truly embodies the notion of allegories and how important they are to tell stories and help society through vital and ongoing transformations.
To learn more about the Allegories of Transformation exhibition, please go to PACE Center.
The Weight of Thought, 30×22 inches, Xerox tone ink on paper
I thoroughly enjoyed this conversation with Neal Ambrose-Smith, in advance of the Allegories of Transformation exhibit at the PACE Center. We had never met–never even talked to each other, but in this time of COVID, we just jumped in. We had set a time to talk for an hour, if need be. Two hours later, we were still talking and laughing and having a great time.
Do Fish Dream? 30×22 inches. graphite, India ink, house paint
The amazing things I learned about Neal that didn’t make it on the video are that he is keeping the archive of all his mother, Jaune Quick-to-See Smith’s work. The two of them often critic each other’s work and freely admit that they borrow ideas, an exchange that has made for a dynamic explosion of work, thoughts and ideas.
The other incredible aspect to Neal’s life and work is his commit to youth and teaching at the Institute of American Indian Art. I was able to leave in part of that conversation–incredible, truly, the issues he and his team deal with on a day-to-day basis.
Visit the Allegories of Transformation exhibit online at The PACE Center.
I had this idea to write about finding your voice. Initially, I thought about asking artists that I think have unique “voices.” But then I thought, wouldn’t it be better to find out why some people use their voice and others don’t? That suddenly seemed more a question about the psychology of voice.
I turned to Denver therapist Nancy Goodman. I’ve known Nancy for years and have always liked her take on life and healing, especially her approach to trauma. Here’s how she describes her practice: “the marriage ofpsychology and spirituality creates the strongest fabric for our healing and growth. Change based solely in psychology is like a tapestry with only horizontal threads. It can lead to a “well-adjusted” person who still feels empty or alone or lacks meaning in his/her life. Change based solely in spirituality, like a tapestry with only vertical threads, can lead to a person with sound ideals and principles, but without the resilience to handle life on life’s terms.”
The following is an edited version of our conversation. As soon as I find time, I promise to put the recorded version up online. But for now, here it is.
I also want to thank my dear friend Melanie Yazzie, who I refer to in this interview, for allowing me to use her images throughout. -Rose
YOU TALK PLENTY
ROSE: OK, so let’s talk about Voice.
NANCY: Let’s.
ROSE: I loved it when I sent you those questions, and then all of a sudden you riffed off all these amazing thoughts about voice and emailed it back.
NANCY: Yeah, that was fun.
ROSE: So, when I was thinking about this, I was struck with an epiphany: I haven’t been using my own voice. And I think when I say that to people, they’re like, “Oh, I hear you loud and clear,” right?
NANCY: You talk plenty.
ROSE: You never stop! And, who knows where it comes from—our youth and everything that society has told us, especially women, you know: “that sounds angry.”
NANCY: Dial that down.
ROSE: Exactly, dial it down, back it off, and put a smile on it.
NANCY: Right. You look prettier if you smile.
ROSE: Right, right. And so, you lose your voice in a way. You talk, but you stop vocalizing what you really want to say. I’m wondering, as a therapist, is this something that you see often?
NANCY: As I’m listening to you talk about it right now, the thing that comes to me is this: There’s a difference between talking, which our culture says women do too much of and using our voice, which is a much more authentic expression of ourselves. Anybody can talk. Anybody can say anything. A lot of times we talk just to fill the silence, impress people. There’s a lot of ways we talk, but using our voice is a completely different conversation altogether because that comes from an authentic place. But, when we look outside ourselves for how we’re supposed to sound to the world, there’s nothing authentic about that.
Melanie Yazzie, monotype
I think your question was, is this common? And yeah, I think it’s common. I mean, I know more about how this shows up for women than I do for men. I think white men are not squelched. I think people of color, both genders, have a lot more risk when it comes to using their voice. It’s just not safe—not as safe. But I know most about women and that it’s a pre-programed cultural expectation that women sound like this and not like that, whatever that may be, depending on your family and your upbringing.
ROSE: Let’s talk a little bit more about the notion of being pre-programmed. Because it sounds great to tell people to just say what’s on your mind, say what’s in your heart. But it’s not that easy. So, what are all these factors that we’re dealing with?
NANCY: Ultimately, it probably gets down to that human-based fear of public ostracization, rejection, abandonment. If I say the wrong thing or sound the wrong way or offend somebody or overwhelm somebody or scare somebody or don’t appease, don’t make somebody else feel comfortable, then I’m at risk for rejection, for anger, for violence, not getting that job, not getting invited to that party, upsetting my husband or partner.
ROSE: When I was initially thinking about voice it was because, in the art community, there’s always this conversation about finding a voice. That’s really at the heart of this. What are some things that can help when your voice is being tamped down? How do you reach in and get your voice?
NANCY: I think that the first part of that is, how does that happen? How does it get tamped down when you’re in the process of learning a craft? It’s similar to being brought up in this culture. There’s a message that there’s a right and a wrong way to do things. As a writer, I can say that learning the craft and learning the art of writing are two very different paths. Learning the craft—some instructors say to take your favorite books and write the first couple chapters by hand so that you get the rhythm of your favorite authors. That is one way of learning: to watch other people who’ve been practicing it for decades.
If artists are learning how to express themselves, they first learn how to use paint or clay or a pen and paper, and how to put words in the sentence and how to put sentences together. Then they can launch themselves from there and say, now that I know how to use the tools I have, how am I going to use them to express things the way that I want to express them? And so, then the risk in being creative is that people will judge it.
TELLTALE SIGNS
ROSE: Let’s talk about that, the fear. It’s really a fear. I know in my life, I’m that quintessential middle child, always wishing: can’t we just get along? But then I am exhausted by the end of this trying to get along when what I’m really trying do is politely escape but I’m afraid to say anything. It’s draining.
NANCY: You use the word draining. Which is a pretty late stage realization that you haven’t been expressing yourself for hours, days, years. It is exhausting not to be authentic. It’s a good internal checks-and-balances. If what I’m saying is energizing to me, it’s a good sign that I’m being authentic. And if what I’m saying is draining to me; it’s really draining our life force energy to not be in alignment with ourselves. So that’s a good indicator. If I’m depleted by the end of the conversation from not expressing myself and might get resentful, I might get bitter and might get judgmental. I might get depleted. If I’m not expressing myself, I might feel fear. I can feel lonely.
ROSE: You and I talked about when we don’t use our voice that there can be a backlash.
NANCY: Women who don’t use their voices will find the backlash of that somewhere in their lives. Health problems, taking it out on their bodies via eating disorders, staying in abusive relationships, lack of understanding of or ability to practice self-care, depression, anxiety, despair, poor parenting, projection of judgment onto other women.
Melanie Yazzie, monotype
When women specifically aren’t using their voices, they have to ask: what is the cost to me? Is the bitterness and resentment or depletion and exhaustion taking its toll on my body because it’s an incredibly stressful way to live. Blocking our authentic voice is stressful on our bodies and often sometimes traumatic, depending on the situation: being in an abusive relationship, or dealing with an abusive boss or a really unhealthy workplace, and exacerbating the problem by staying in a situation where using my voice is not accepted and then taking it out on others.
You see women not using their voice but then criticizing and judging all women who, for example, stay home rather than work or vice versa. Or criticizing all women who wear tight clothing. So, projecting my own self-limiting behavior onto other people and then judging them for that.
Shit rolls downhill. If I’m not using my voice, I’m depleted, so my children aren’t getting from me what they could if I were more authentic.
When we are not using our voices, we feel like victims. When we feel like victims, we continue to be victims. Somewhere in there the tide has to turn where we say, it’s my job, it’s my responsibility to use my authentic voice to benefit myself and everyone around me and because if I can’t use my voice, I will stay stuck in that forever.
GROUNDING
NANCY: I just need to say this to get this one off my mind. You mentioned earlier, doing what everybody else is doing gives us a sense of belonging. That’s an important starting place because when we’re talking about self or when we’re talking about using our voice, that’s a self-actualization skill. And we need to feel like we belong before we’re able to arrive in that self-actualized place. There’s value in belonging. First, there’s value in learning the craft before we branch out on our own because then we have this foundation of “I know what I’m doing. I know who I am. I know where I stand.” It’s like orienting ourselves in the world. I’ve grounded, or oriented myself in the world first, which is a good, solid foundation. Then to express myself authentically, which is risky and scary, it’s like jumping off. So that belonging, I think, has its place.
ROSE: I like that. First things first: get grounded.
NANCY: Yes! So, the bigger my foundation is, the farther I can wander before I feel like I’m going to fall off the edge into the abyss. If my foundation is big and I know my craft and I know my mentors and I know my community and it’s a large enough, then I have lots more room to wander around and explore my own authenticity and find what works and doesn’t work for me personally. So, there’s value in that belonging phase first, and then you have the freedom to start saying, “Who am I as a writer? Who am I as a painter? Who am I?”
Made Him Strong, Melanie Yazzie, monotype
Once you recognized that you’re not using your voice, that what you’re doing is depleting or stilted or tedious, tiresome, that it’s causing resentment, it’s causing self-doubt and all of that, you can start taking risks and saying, “If nobody’s looking, what would I want to write about or paint?”
It’s our own experience of authenticity that starts to build on itself. The momentum starts to go, because when we painted the thing that we really wanted to paint, as crazy and weird and unlike what we were taught, it feels amazing and freeing. It feels right. It feels joyful. You would rather be feeling those things. I think it takes time to be willing to choose that over what is expected of us.
THE BOGEYMEN: PERMISSION AND SELF-DOUBT
ROSE: I want to come back to self-doubt and permission and talk about how those two things fit together or fight against each other, and how we can reconcile them.
NANCY: Permission, I think, comes both internally and externally. It’s lovely to get permission from the outside. It really, really helps. And if you have a choice between two mentors, I would go with that one who’s going to give you permission to explore on your own because that external permission is really freeing.
Internal permission is a choice. I have to be willing to give myself permission to be who I am in the world, and I think we do that incrementally. We dip our toe in the water.
And self-doubt. So, I’ve come to a place in my travels where I believe that self-doubt has a very small, important role. It’s a checks-and-balances sort of thing. It’s what makes me look outside before I decide whether or not to put on a coat; I have enough doubt to make me look outside. It’s just this tiny little voice, saying, Are you sure?
But if self-doubt is allowed to get any bigger than it should be, which is tiny, than it takes over and it causes all kinds of pain and suffering.
Jackie the Horse Boy, Melanie Yazzie, monotype
If self-doubt doesn’t lead immediately to new information, then it’s taking on way too much control of our lives. If self-doubt makes me say, you know what, I’m not sure if that’s the right word, let me go look it up in the thesaurus, then it’s useful. If self-doubt says, I don’t know if this story is any good; that’s subjective. I’m not going to get any new information from that line of thinking.
ROSE: OK, so how do we get past that, especially in the beginning phase where self-doubt probably stops more artistic endeavors, you know?
NANCY: Sometimes it can be helpful to have a conversation with the part of us that we could name “self-doubt.” Get a little bit of distance from it and ask, why are you here? Where’d you come from? When did you show up in my life? Was I two? Was I ten, or twelve? And why? Oftentimes, if we can get back to where that self-doubt is rooted, we can start to have compassion for its role in our life.
If it showed up on the scene when I was four, let’s say, because I got laughed at in preschool and it was traumatizing, and self-doubt came on the scene to make sure that never happened again. It’s now second guessing everything I do socially in order to keep me from ever getting laughed at again.
Go back and ask, how familiar is self-doubt to me? How old does it feel? And why did it start? Where did it come from? And then thank it: You got me through preschool. I never got laughed at again. You were clearly successful. Thank you, but I’m actually in charge now. I’m the adult in charge of this body, this person and I want to write this story whether it’s good or not. Doesn’t matter. I want to write the story. I want to paint this picture. I want to build this thing that I’m excited about, so I need you to take a step back. What will it take for you to settle down? What do you need from me, Self-Doubt, for you to settle down so that I can go write this story?
Well, Self-Doubt might say, I want to make sure you don’t show it to anybody until it’s really, really good. OK, I promise not to show it to anybody until I’ve edited it three times. How’s that? Or, I want to make sure that you don’t put this painting on the wall of a coffee shop where people might laugh at it and nobody’s going to buy it. And that’s going to mean X, Y, and Z. Okay, I promise I won’t put it on the wall of a coffee shop until we know for sure that people like it. How’s that? Once it settles down, then you go paint your picture, you go write your chapter.
ROSE: I was listening to Brene Brown who was talking about creativity and how hard it is for adults. She said she lost count of how many people told her that an elementary school teacher said something that crushed them like, “that is a terrible drawing of a horse” or whatever.
NANCY: My kindergarten teacher told me that suns are not supposed to be in the corners of the page with the little lines on them, because it looks like a spider crawling off the page. That’s the last time I drew a sun like that.
ROSE: I had a teacher, I think it was second grade, and I wrote this little story that I was proud of, you know, and she circled all of my misspellings in red ink and then on one in particular, wrote, “Not even close.” We remember these things, right? I can’t tell you the name of the teacher. I don’t know what she looked like. I just know that the message was: you did this wrong; you’re a terrible speller.
NANCY: And, after that people think, now I won’t ever do that again because I’m broken, so I will stop. That’s just so unfortunate. Because, like we were saying in the beginning of the conversation, it’s not that everybody has a painter inside them or a novel inside, right?
ROSE: Exactly. Which is why I love that idea of being able to talk to self-doubt, really, and confront it instead of letting it own you. And to have some compassion for why it’s there in our lives.
NANCY: We all have some form of it, self-doubt. But when it’s really big and really loud, to be able to have a relationship where we can be in charge instead of it and by attending to its needs because it’s not going to stop protecting us. If we don’t think we need protecting, it’s going to get louder, it’s going to rage up hot and stronger, out of self-protection. But if we say, look, I got this, I’m the adult here, I’m in charge, I’m using my brain, I know how to make my way in the world. What do you need to calm down? It will tell us.
CRITICS, CRITICS EVERYWHERE
ROSE: So that’s the critic inside you. Then, we have the feared critic outside of us. Even a spouse or family members. And, you know, some family members love everything you do, and to me, that’s almost more damaging because it’s like, well, now I just don’t trust you.
Mining Memory, Melanie Yazzie, monoprint
NANCY: That’s right.
ROSE: And then there are the ones who criticize everything. I think they mean to be helpful, like self-doubt. How do you get over that fear of external judgment?
NANCY: Let’s just say there’s going to be external dogma. And so, getting to a place where that expectation is realistic—I’m waiting for my parents to die because they will disown me if I write my memoir, or they will be horrified, or they will lose their standing in their own community—that’s a choice that we have to take ownership over.
Am I going to let this external judgment sway my decision to use my voice or not? And if the answer is yes, then my fear will sway my decision to use my voice. But if we own the choice, then it’s no longer self-doubt. It’s a proactive, life affirming decision.
If we are afraid of critics’ judgment, not necessarily family but stranger’s judgment, we can ask the same question. Am I going to let my fear of critics keep me from using my voice in my art and in my life? And if the answer is yes, then you have to ask, is that a value judgment or is that fear? And in that sense, it’s probably fear because you don’t ultimately know what people will say. They may love it, right?
As we know, art and self-expression are subjective. If you line up ten people, it’s guaranteed, some people are going to love it and guaranteed some people are going to hate it. And guaranteed some people aren’t even going to notice it. Do you want to base your actions and your connection to your own authentic voice on the guarantee that some people are going to love it? I promise you; some people are going to love it. So, go ahead; it’s just a choice.
And that is another way to be in touch with our authenticity. I authentically want to create something regardless of the external reaction. I authentically want to create something, but I don’t want to shame my parents. I authentically want to create something, and my parents are responsible for their own feelings. I’m going to go ahead and get it published. It’s all just a personal choice, but I think there’s a lot of empowerment in coming to terms with your choice.
ROSE: Yes.
NANCY: Just facing it allows it to shake out, sort of dulls the pain of it.
ROSE: I was talking to a friend, Native American artist Melanie Yazzie. She was telling me about how, early in her career, she was angry, and her work was angry; it was expressing this anger about her situation and everything she was dealing with. But she realized that the people who were angry with her were already with her and the people she wanted to connect with, they simply walked away, saying, “Oh, she’s just another angry Native.” So, she realized she needed to figure out how to say something that the people who walked away would hear, because she wanted to communicate.
NANCY: “I need to express this anger” and “I want to communicate”—those are both authentic drives that transform over time.
ROSE: Yes, yes. And so, she worked on that but then she had to deal with people who criticized her work saying things like, that looks like a child could do it, or I could have done that. So, Melanie started telling those people, “You should do it then.” And she even said, “Here are the supplies I used. When you’re done, will you please send it to me, and we’ll talk about it.” And she’s tells people this in a totally authentic way, not in a snide way at all. She’s actually had people try to paint then contact her and say, “Oh, that was a lot harder than I thought.”
NANCY: I think that that’s a good illustration of how connected she is to her voice. She’s not doing that to prove anything. She’s not doing anything for acceptance. She’s not doing it for people to say you’re amazing.
ROSE: Exactly. Because when somebody says you’re not that good, she says, “I’m not trying to be, but you could be. And I would love it if you were.”
NANCY: That ability, that generosity of spirit, in my opinion comes directly from a true connection to our authenticity.
ROSE: I agree. And I think that’s something that she embodies completely. And then to have people say to her, that was a lot harder than I thought. What they’re realizing is: I can copy something all day long, but if you need me to express what’s inside of me, that’s a whole other ball of wax.
LIKE-HEARTED PEOPLE
ROSE: Something we’ve talked about with the external critic is having a support system, a community.
NANCY: I’ve been hearing recently people calling those types of communities not “like-minded” people, but “like-hearted” people. Like-minded means we all think the same way, which has its place, but like-hearted people are the ones who are going to feel safe. It doesn’t matter what you’re using to create. What matters is that we’re both looking for authentic voices or we’re both pushing each other to our edges. These are the callings of our heart.
And to find people who feel like they speak your heart language, that authentic voice, they may have very different voices, they may be writers and you’re a painter, they may be loud, and you’re introverted—that part doesn’t matter. It’s the level of authenticity. How safe do they feel within themselves? And how safe do you feel within yourself? And can you find people that match that? And then you can just let go in front of those people you can express yourself and feel like you have a safety net. Because ultimately, I think, what art is doing is speaking universally, right?
ROSE: I was remembering, as you said that, of standing in front of a Jackson Pollock painting, and thinking, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I can’t leave.
NANCY: Yes. That authentic voice is something that we connect to.
ROSE: When you go through that experience and you put the work out there if it’s writing or poetry or singing, or whatever your art is, and just have that one person come up and say, that that was good.
NANCY: It shuts up the inner critic.
At the Lake, Melanie Yazzie, acrylic
ROSE: And it’s so important because there’s that thinking that maybe I’m doing the wrong thing because my sales have slowed way down. Is it just a bad time economically or have you lost touch with your authentic voice? You’re the only one who knows the difference between the two.
NANCY: I think there’s a lot of encouragement to be found in this authentic voice realm to completely let go of the outcome. It’s not about the outcome for artistic expression and individual expression. It can’t be about the outcome because, once it’s out of our mouth, it’s being received in ways that we have no control over. And it may not be the time for our words or our vision to land with people. But that’s not our business. Our business is simply the expression of it. And then we let it go.
THE JOURNEYIS THE ART
ROSE: It makes art the journey.
NANCY: And you’re expressing your journey at this particular moment in time. And what a blessing for the world to have a vision or a picture of your individual journey at this moment in time. And the ripple effect that happens to whoever it touches, whoever gets to learn from your experience! It’s such a gift for human beings to learn what it’s truly like to be you.
ROSE: And in that, learning to understand what it’s like to be themselves.
NANCY: That’s right. Yes. Because we’re so social and we’re mirroring each other and reflecting off each other. I know more about me in relationship to you than I know about me when I’m by myself. And so, if you tell me your story, I’m going to hear it through my ears. And if it’s authentic, I’m going to hear the juiciest, biggest gift you can give the world: telling me about you.
ROSE: Well, and then give you permission to tell your story if you want.
You know what? I think we have this this huge movement going on right now with a lot of people standing up to be heard, really heard, like we haven’t seen since the sixties. I feel like it’s just been such a great thing for a lot of people—and artists—to finally be able to breathe. To have African American artists telling their story through their art, that culture living alongside the American white culture. It’s so beyond my second-grade teacher telling me I couldn’t spell. This is being able to express your voice after generations that have been told, No, we’ve heard enough of you, even before they’ve had the chance to speak. So, my question is: how do you uncover that? Because, in some cases, it’s like PTSD.
NANCY: I love the fact that there have been so many white people who are metaphorically handing the microphone over to people of color. As if saying, our voices been heard, you know what the majority culture’s opinion is, we’re done talking. The pendulum needs to swing in the other direction before it can find a nice balance, which will come in time, I assume, because that’s how nature works. But right now, the pendulum needs to swing. And we need to ask, what has this been like for you? We are ready to shut up now.
ROSE: When you do hand the microphone over and somebody starts telling you a story through their eyes and you see that, for instance, a traffic stop isn’t the same for every person. But, you know, people don’t believe these things are really happening. I would think that adds to the trauma.
NANCY: One of the most powerful ways to heal trauma—and I need to qualify this because it’s not going to single-handedly heal trauma—but a really powerful part of the process is to tell the story over and over and over. The more people of color as a culture are telling the story, the more power they’re going to have over it.
When we tell the story over and over, it doesn’t heal it like there’s no trauma. Trauma lives in our bodies. And so mentally and cognitively, using words to tell the story doesn’t touch the trauma that lives in our bodies; that is a completely different topic. But there’s so much power in owning our experience and then being able to express our experience. Telling our story is an incredibly powerful thing to do. And the more that people who have been traumatized can tell their story, the more that heals to a degree. And it has an incredible collective healing as well.
We all have such limited views on the world. None of us have the 360-degree view of it all. None of us have reality all figured it out. But each of our individual slices of the pie are valid and valuable and nourishing for the people to get this perspective. And when you see from that perspective, when we put both of those together, we’re both benefiting from a greater perspective of what reality looks like.
THE YIN AND THE YANG OF IT
NANCY: There was one other thing that keeps coming into my mind. When it comes to creating authentic work and expressing yourself authentically, I think there’s a beautiful truth to the idea of holding the masculine and the feminine at the same time.
The feminine is the creative part but it’s messy and formless. It’s the energy of creation. The masculine is what holds the form together. The masculine is the craft. The feminine is art. The masculine is the words we choose, and the feminine is the emotional impulse behind the desire to write that sentence. The masculine is the canvas and the colors of the paint, the feminine is the picture that evolves through the process of that painting.
When we’re not allowing the masculine to hold its rightful place in our work than it becomes that toxic masculinity, which is critical and judgmental, and self-doubt gets riled up by all of that. But if we allow the masculine energy to be the form of our work, and if we can identify the masculine and feminine parts of the artistic expression, we can allow the rightful place for both of them.
Plant with Care, Melanie Yazzie, monotype
And if we can identify where my creativity is and where my form is in this process than we’re allowing that masculine-feminine energy to completely support what we’re doing. And it then clears the way for authenticity.
ROSE: How do you get them back into balance if one takes over?
NANCY: I’m not so sure how this fits with other art, but with writing you have to just create first with no form. It’s all feminine. It’s all creation. And then bring in much more of that masculine energy and start editing it and forming it. And so, it’s not always that they’re both happening at the same time. It’s that I’m using them the way that they are meant to be used in their optimal ways. And when I do that, my authenticity is more free flowing.
ROSE: The artist Wayne Thiebaud said that you have to do ten paintings so you can throw nine away.
NANCY: Yes, and the first nine are the feminine, the tenth one is the masculine.
TELL YOUR STORY, FIND YOUR VOICE
ROSE: To circle back around to authenticity and voice, it seems that what we’re talking about, ultimately then, is storytelling. From Melanie Yazzie’s Native American paintings that people have said were childlike to Motherwell’s big black color field paintings and the Jackson Pollock’s drip paintings or hyper-realism paintings or photography, it’s telling a story. And it’s the artist’s voice coming through.
NANCY: And it goes back to all the things that we were talking about. Find that support to convince the critic inside of you. Don’t tamp down the critic; parent the critic—I’m the adult here, and you’re the one struggling. How can I help you?
ROSE: And give yourself permission.
NANCY: Yes, to go down that path, you really do have to talk to that inner critic because nobody is going to be good at throwing a pot the first time they try. No one’s going to be good at writing a novel the first time. And most people don’t do these creative things without community support. Whether it’s a passage in a painting or a passage in your writing, you need the support to bring your voice out. Find the people who really want you to share your voice.
But, if your goal is the outcome of selling “x” number of pieces of your work, then you’re missing the point. The point is self-expression and self-expression is an ongoing process. The outcome doesn’t matter, whether they sell or not. It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s appealing to other people or not doesn’t matter. Self-expression is a thing in and of itself that has nothing to do with outcome.
