The UCLA Interview
Back in the late 1980s I applied for a job as an Assistant Professor of Art at UCLA in California. I got an interview and it seemed to go well. The person interviewing me was the chair of the painting department and he said that the committee had been taken by how fresh and unique my work was, that it was refreshing to see. He seemed impressed with me and my work.
The Question
He then asked me something along the lines of ‘where does your work fit in art history, who has influenced you?’ After his praise for my work’s uniqueness the question caught me a bit off guard. On the one hand they wanted a one of a kind artist, on the other hand they wanted him or her to fit in with other artist and their work. My answer was pretty much that I stood alone. Yes, there were influences but I was not directly and tightly linked to a style or movement, an artist or group of artists. I was proud of that.
Not Too Original
I didn’t get the job. I tried to figure out why and I think it was that answer that did me in. They wanted a leaf that was part of a tree, not a leaf by itself. They were an institution that needed to promote originality to their students and the art world, but not so much originality that they couldn’t explain how the art and artist fit into the rest of the art world.
At first this annoyed me but as time went on and I matured it made perfect sense. Understanding where we are in history matters to people. It reassures them, it helps organize the world. It also protects them, sort of like a warranty. I no longer begrudge people who want to place me somewhere. I might not agree with them, but I understand the need.
Knowing My History
If I could do it over again I wouldn’t change my work at all. But I would change my awareness of how my work is part of a continuum of art and also a compendium of influences outside of art. That it actually did come from somewhere; bits and pieces of the art that was on my Grandfather’s walls for example. The cartoons I watched as a kid. The artists who emphasized simplicity and elegance in composition and line, like Edward Hopper and Henri Matisse. My inherited Irish gift of gab. The truth was I didn’t connect my personal history or my art history back to my artwork. I was a leaf not connected to the tree.
It’s great to be a unique leaf, but it’s also of value to know what tree you belong to.
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Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman
Quote by Michael Crichton, 1942-2008, American author
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Yes. This is wonderful. I love reading pure reflection turned lesson. I know that my life mantra is taking A LOT from The Sunscreen Song, Hands by Jewel and I’m Sensitive (another Jewel goodie.) These songs hit home for me (as well as anything by Lennon) and I live differently because of them 🙂 It’s nice knowing that.
Ebony, it’s like a scavenger hunt puzzle. You pick up pieces of this or that, put it in your pocket, bring it out later. You keep collecting, not realizing they are items that are starting to fit together. Eventually you look at the puzzle and smile when you realize how all the pieces fit and finally understand the puzzle is you.
A leaf needs it’s roots.
It does Brian, you are right. When the leaf has a mind of it’s own, it sometimes forgets that.