It's that time of year again - the sun is starting to shine (she says hopefully), the birds
are starting to sound chirpier and a sea of final year students are
beginning to worry about what the end of their degrees will bring.
I normally reserve this blogging space for reflection on my practice and
hoarding pictures of my work, so this post is a little different to normal. Recently, my coursemates and I undertook our professional art practice (PAP) conference: two lectures
a day with two guest speakers. The result: a group of rather tired people by the
final Friday sessions and an atmosphere that I'd describe as 'intense responsibility avoidance'. 'Why am I here? Where will I be when I'm done being here? What do I really want to do with my life? Why do I call myself an artist? Is it too late to back out of this whole thing and do a PGCE?'; all questions asked and not really answered over that short but stressful five days.
The fact of the matter is, it's pretty terrifying when you try and answer those questions. Especially if you're an art student. I know that this account will be a little bit subjective but it still seems to me that creative graduates often have it the hardest when it comes to knowing what lies beyond graduation. As someone about to exit a creative area of study, I can say with confidence that this uncertainty in no way undermines the value of a degree in the arts - for a start, they foster the ability to see things differently (something myself and I'm sure many potential employers would likely deem very positive). So, why such panic? Why such scared faces when asked to make a five year goal list?
I'm sure there are many places we could start and many viable answers that I could expand upon (a lot of them based on the current state of the economy and the undervaluing of creativity but annyywwayyyy...) but - in thinking about this personally - my idea is this: art degrees simply don't lead to a knowable outcome.
Wait, what?
As obvious or shocking as that might have sounded, it has to be noted that there isn't really a template for how a fine art graduate's life will end up looking. In fact, the lives and careers of art graduates vary so wildly that you couldn't possibly create a pattern for a typical art degree holder. If you study medicine, it's likely you'll go on to become a medical practitioner; there is a route you can follow that leads somewhere foreseeable. The realization that this structure doesn't apply within the realms of contemporary art could potentially be the reason so many young artists opt to do a PGCE and vow to send the words 'object orientated ontology' to the deepest recesses of their minds. (I honestly do have nothing but respect for people whose want is to teach - I should do, considering I was raised and taught by two of them.) Because, if there isn't a defined outcome, what you're left with is the question that started it all: what do I want to do with my life?
And that's what makes studying art so amazing. Ultimately, the question comes full circle and it's all about what you do. Yes, you. As a prelude to the conference, the host tutor invited three past graduates to talk to us about where the seven years post-graduating had led them. The first had worked with video during his time on the course; now, he runs a very well covered contemporary art event, while holding down a job in children's media production. Next up was someone who'd worked countless jobs until becoming self-employed and taking on a leading position in a growing art space - her interests now lie in art writing. My favourite talk was however delivered by Dave Green: whilst at university, he also invested much of his energy in making videos but is now a London based comedian and works at a cafe part-time.
Quite an array of outcomes, even in such a small sample. When Dave Green's talk was praised in front of some of our tutors, every single one of them claimed that they always knew he would end up doing stand up - they said it was clear the whole way through his studies. Evidently, that's what he was good at.
I'm pretty good at thinking sculpturally. I'm also pretty good at singing and I'd say I was pretty good at writing. (Bold statements, but sometimes I need to give myself some encouragement.) Maybe instead of making a five year plan (or as well as), us creative lot should get better at making lists of things we're good at. At the end of the day, those are the things that should help us to decide what our next steps are going to be and what we want to do. If we're aiming to find out what we enjoy and have a talent for, there really is no limit to the possibilities and things suddenly seem a whole lot less scary.
The exciting thing is that everyone is going to have a different answer.
And none of them are wrong.
