The fall and spring semesters can be a challenge for several reasons. Off-campus, you're no longer in that 24/7 art bubble. You're home working your job in the real world, tending to family life and obligations, and then trying to fit in homework (reading, writing, and blogging) on nights and weekends, all while keeping your studio practice going. That first fall semester, I hardly made anything. The reading and writing homework dominated most of my free time.
To be fair, I came home to my partner and sister's decision to open doughnut shop next door, which completely took over all of our lives from the minute I arrived back home; this left me with not enough time/head space for my work. It was this extremely consuming/intense/stressful experience in combination with our assignment to read Dewey's "Art as Experience" that helped lead me to my current path in social practice work and an exploration on living life as an art practice. Read more on my experience with doughnut shop aesthetics here. (and here. and here too.) If you are open-minded and paying attention, any situation becomes fuel for your art practice.
I was fortunate enough to work with Gregg Bordowitz, our director, for both of my online courses in the fall and spring that first year. His encouragement and direction led to a huge trail of research on socially engaged work that has culminated in a book-length writing project (which later became my thesis). Gregg is brilliant, thoughtful, poetic, and in high demand. (I don't believe he has time to teach fall/spring courses anymore since we've grown from 37 to 100 in 3 years.) Working with him was awesome.
During the fall of my second year I worked with Pamela Sneed at Gregg's recommendation in a class called Art & Human Rights. Again, amazing. So relevant to the direction my work was headed. Both Pamela and Gregg value a "place of first permission" where you have license to write what you want/need to write. In Pamela's class I was able to cut-loose with my writing and explore all kinds of new poetic directions that I had been shy about before.
The other part of the distance learning is your art-making. You are paired with a mentor to check in with you throughout the semester for 6 hours, about 2 to 3 meetings. During my first year, my mentor situation was kind of a nightmare. Both of my mentors (one in the fall, one in the spring) were doing work I was very interested in, but both lived in NYC which was about 2 1/2 hours from me. On their first visit, they came up to see me in my studio/home. We spent our first 3 hours getting to know each other over a meal and then spent about an hour of it in my studio talking about the work. I left those sessions feeling pretty good.
That first fall semester, my mentor requested that I email my current work and come down to meet in NYC for our second and final meeting. I did, even though I couldn't really afford the trip. When I arrived, she hadn't looked at my work and couldn't get her wifi to work enough to view the work. Instead, we talked for an hour and she promised to give me feedback on my writing project to make up the remaining two hours. She did send a little feedback, but it was minimal; certainly not 2 hours worth of time.
In the spring semester, my new mentor canceled our second (and final) meeting due to illness. Again, I was promised feedback on my writing, but received none.
This first year of mentor experience off-campus left me feeling very upset. In particular, I was upset because I was paying thousands of dollars to take this "class" which consisted of me working alone in my own home studio with only a very brief encounter with my mentor. It seemed like robbery, and it kind of is. It was by far the most frustrating part of my low-res experience.
I explained this situation to Michal Lynn and Gregg in hopes that year 2 would not be a repeat. At my request, they paired me with a certain nationally recognized artist (and professor) who just happens to live a block from my house and is making work I really respect. Having my mentor in my town was a huge help. However, I still never got my 6 hours per semester.
The trouble with being part of a brand new program is that you become the guinea pig and nothing has been finalized or tested until you do it. In place of the typical writing/reading topics class, the final spring semester is devoted to writing your thesis and planning for your thesis show. Throughout our time at SAIC, I continued to work on the writing project I had started with Gregg. It had grown from 20 pages to 40 to 110. At 40 pages, Gregg had read it that first spring and suggested I continue with it for my final thesis. However, in December, we received an email announcing a 25 page max for our written thesis. By that point my project had grown to 110 pages. For most of us, a 25 page cap was good news, great news actually considering everyone was balancing school with full-time life. But for the few of us who had already begun the writing process, the cap took the wind out of our sails. It seemed more like a paper than a thesis. It felt like back-tracking. The first month, we had to write an abstract and an outline; the second month-- 10 pages and a revision of the abstract. I was not able to get feedback on more than 25 pages due to my thesis adviser's contract limits. Again, this was incredibly frustrating since I felt like I was paying thousands for such little feedback.
In preparation for the thesis show, we turned in several proposals via email and had skype meetings with gallery staff, all of which were very friendly and helpful. My first proposal was rejected due to space constraints. Although I was upset, it was actually a blessing in disguise and led to my current work. My second proposal was initially accepted, but later I was told I would have to completely change the material due to fire hazards. (I wanted to make a tent using a heavy canvas material.) I was told that either my tent would need to have an open roof (not a tent) or people would not be allowed inside (defeating the purpose). I drove out Chicago to meet with the gallery staff about the fabrics, then came up with a plan B and a plan C. Eventually, I got permission to keep my tent a tent as long as it was sprayed with a special (and expensive) fire retardant.
I heard many similar stories and frustrations from fellow low-resers. I think the entire process would have been a bit easier if I was an on-campus student. But being off campus is what I signed up for.
To summarize...
1) Because you are low residency student not on campus, you will not receive equal time or treatment to your on-campus counterparts. Essentially, you are paying for the "convenience" of being able to live in your own part of the world for the majority of your MFA. It costs the same as the students who are there every day using lights and electricity and studios and equipment. You are not paying for access to those resources. The math will make you want to scream. Come to terms with that ahead of time.
2) Choose your mentors wisely and advocate for yourself if you are not getting the time you are promised.
3) At SAIC (and I'm sure at other schools), you have the opportunity to work with some truly brilliant people, even during the time you are off-campus. Do the reading/writing and be open to the unexpected ways those things can affect your work.
4) Despite all these difficulties, I would still recommend the low residency format for those trying to teach (or raise a family) and go to grad school at the same time.
No comments:
Post a Comment