Nurturing

“Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious.”

Ruth Reichl, American chef and food writer

Bringing people around a table for good food and even better company is a staple of so many cultures.  It gets us through the highs and lows of life.  I’d wager you don’t have to work hard to remember moments in your life when eating together was the stage for joy and celebration, or the salve for sorrow and remembrance.  No question, there is creativity and beauty involved in making and presenting good food, but that’s not where my thoughts have come to rest today. Reichl is offering up an invitation to participate in community.

There is a small group of 8 or 9 Muddy Creek Artists Guild members who meet monthly for the purpose of providing each other feedback on their artwork.  I was invited recently to sit in on a meeting, and there I saw in action a non-confrontational, supportive way the art of critique takes shape, very much promoting Reichl’s sense of community.  Looking at each piece of art in turn as it was presented by the artist, members described what they saw, discussed principles and elements, asked questions about the artist’s meaning and intentions, and, when invited to, offered their opinions. Members know each other well enough to reference the artist’s unique vocabulary—something I learned is roughly like frequently used themes or concepts. They noted which part of the work caught their eye, how light played off the work, and what changed if the orientation of the work was reversed.  They also offered a lot of encouragement, especially when an artist talked about trying something new or pushing themselves in a different direction. “I appreciate your willingness to go beyond what you like,” is an example of a comment that conveyed an understanding of the artist and the unique challenges they grappled with.

The group started as an outgrowth of several artists gathering at Steve Schulman’s studio to paint together.  This was somewhere around 2019, or perhaps a year or two earlier—the timeline is a little hazy for those involved.  While creating together, the artists soon started asking for and offering feedback to each other about the pieces that were in front of them.  It didn’t take them long to realize the value in this and they began bringing other works, whether in progress or finished, for critique. 

The word “critique” may make someone feel a bit cautious at first, I’ll admit.  It was not long ago I read “Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking,” in which the authors, Bayles and Orland, describe the many fears of the artist, including that of not being understood, accepted, or approved of. And then there are the stories from cyberspace of critiques offered to artists that left them in tears, enraged, or both. On the positive side, though, I remembered fondly my art teacher who pointed out what he saw in my works and analyzed how the parts, like line, shape, color and light, were organized and working together, or not. I found the process very helpful and ended up learning a great deal from him.

 “Amazing!” was the first response when I asked a participant about the group, and it became the most repeated word I heard as I talked with several others about their experience. I don’t exaggerate when I say their eyes lit up and a smile rose on their lips at the mention of the group. Each member I spoke with credited the art critique group with contributing immeasurably to their growth as artists. It didn’t matter their medium, style, or how long they had been making art. There was consensus, too, on how supportive each participant finds the group and what a gift it is to get constructive feedback from people who know you so well. The ability to engage in philosophical, and highly personal, discussions about the process of artmaking was recognized as refreshing and a rare opportunity in a rural area like South County.

Opening up to a group of your peers about what you create may not be for everyone. Vulnerability makes us feel, well…vulnerable. Successful groups recognize and respect this. The goal of most peer groups is to foster a supportive environment where individuals can openly share their artwork and process, receive honest feedback, and collaboratively reflect on their practice. How you arrive at the goal is by building trust, which requires time and intention. And if a member occasionally strays from these principles, a good group gently guides them back onto the path. When the ingredients all come together, the experience leads to improved skills, personal growth, and a stronger sense of collegiality.

From what I can see, this group of artists has found that magic sauce.

If as you read this, you wonder about the peer critique opportunities available to you as an artist, I need to let you know the group is intentionally kept small in number to allow time for everyone to present and receive feedback. There is no reason, though, why more small groups cannot be established. In writing this story, I hope I have conveyed some of the benefits for doing so.

And so, back to the Reichl’s invitation. It is not coincidental, I don’t think, that “nutrition” and “nurturing” share the same root word. As with the communal table, so too the well-run art critique group—both offer a community of sustenance to those who partake. The possibilities are deliciously endless!