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....by Kimberly Green
I was standing in my Dad's living room one day after we had dragged a whole bunch of paintings out of the closet and set them up around the room to see what we wanted to enter in an upcoming show. He turned to me and said "You know what? If anyone ever saw all of these paintings together, they'd ask, 'how many artists are in this show?" My first thought was yes, they would, and my second thought was, that would be such a great title for a solo exhibition one day!
But seriously, so many people ask me, "What does he paint?" or "What medium does he work in." It seems to me that it has become a sad epidemic that artists are expected to be of a singular style, talent, ability, and interest. But to me, that seems the exact opposite of the definition of what an artist is. Now me, I always say that I inherited 0% of my Dad's artistic genes. I am not an artist. But still, I think I can spot one when I see one. Mostly because I've been watching one (and his numerous eccentric associates) all my life. My definition of an artist is someone who has creativity in their veins. My Dad has this uncanny ability to see faces and other images everywhere, in everything - a tree trunk, a bunch of leaves, a drawing of something else. And I think in the simplest form, that's it: he just "sees" differently. Never mind that he's color-blind (that gene I did inherit) he has a different vision of the world. Other artists that clearly exhibit this ability are two cartoonists that come to mind, B. Kliban and Gary Larson. To see the world differently, and to be able to make something of that, is what I feel defines an artist. Talent, on the other hand, is a deeper evolution of that ability.
For my Dad, creativity just happens. He can't help it. I used to get a little frustrated trying to help him "sell" his work. I thought I had to package him in a box, or several separate boxes, so that I could feed his work in nice neat boundaries to those who only wanted to see watercolors, or oils, or boats, or landscapes. But he has helped me to let go of that knee-jerk response to try to please others and give them only what they want to see. He has helped me have some faith that if I can see his talent across the board, maybe I should just let others see it too. If they don't get it, they don't get it.
I was standing in my Dad's living room one day after we had dragged a whole bunch of paintings out of the closet and set them up around the room to see what we wanted to enter in an upcoming show. He turned to me and said "You know what? If anyone ever saw all of these paintings together, they'd ask, 'how many artists are in this show?" My first thought was yes, they would, and my second thought was, that would be such a great title for a solo exhibition one day!
But seriously, so many people ask me, "What does he paint?" or "What medium does he work in." It seems to me that it has become a sad epidemic that artists are expected to be of a singular style, talent, ability, and interest. But to me, that seems the exact opposite of the definition of what an artist is. Now me, I always say that I inherited 0% of my Dad's artistic genes. I am not an artist. But still, I think I can spot one when I see one. Mostly because I've been watching one (and his numerous eccentric associates) all my life. My definition of an artist is someone who has creativity in their veins. My Dad has this uncanny ability to see faces and other images everywhere, in everything - a tree trunk, a bunch of leaves, a drawing of something else. And I think in the simplest form, that's it: he just "sees" differently. Never mind that he's color-blind (that gene I did inherit) he has a different vision of the world. Other artists that clearly exhibit this ability are two cartoonists that come to mind, B. Kliban and Gary Larson. To see the world differently, and to be able to make something of that, is what I feel defines an artist. Talent, on the other hand, is a deeper evolution of that ability.
For my Dad, creativity just happens. He can't help it. I used to get a little frustrated trying to help him "sell" his work. I thought I had to package him in a box, or several separate boxes, so that I could feed his work in nice neat boundaries to those who only wanted to see watercolors, or oils, or boats, or landscapes. But he has helped me to let go of that knee-jerk response to try to please others and give them only what they want to see. He has helped me have some faith that if I can see his talent across the board, maybe I should just let others see it too. If they don't get it, they don't get it.
