Contrary to what you might think, being in art school doesn’t mean you are immune from pulling all-nighters. This right-of-passage isn’t only for the Bunsen Burner set. Eighteen-year-olds are eighteen-year-olds, regardless of major. I know this firsthand. Freshman Foundation was intense at the Bauhaus-inspired program I attended. Creating objects based on functionalism and simplicity is rigorous stuff. Yes, for real.
I recall pinning up my assignment, alongside 100 other students, and watching the lead teachers walk around…looking? Were they impressed, bored, annoyed? Who knew. One teacher had this knack for seemingly disregarding the entirety of, say, a pencil-drawn composition, and focusing on an unconsidered detail. She’d speak at length about the merits of a drawn mark’s quality, or a 1″ square shade of grey—but more likely what would bring her to speak was the remnants of erasing not fully wiped off in haste to get the work up on the wall in time. She loved it. It was infuriating. I stayed up all night creating *this* and you are revering the shreds of rubber I left on Rives BFK, unintentionally?!
Fast forward a decade +
I too am drawn to the seemingly unimportant details. With her ruthless attention to ALL details, my Foundation teacher has absolutely influenced my omni-awareness as a viewer. The way a page number has been handled, how the artist chose to document a project, or even the language of someone’s email auto responder defines my impression, often more than the broad strokes. These elements evoke a gasp of delight, or can even piss me off. But the worst is when it doesn’t register at all. I bet you are the same.
As I am about to launch a major project, I notice, again, that it is the details that have me interested. That are making the project meaningful and potent.
Above is a glimpse of the soon to be “live” project. More to be revealed soon.
But maybe showing everything is unnecessary.