The Baird Method

Of criticism. Possibly could have chosen a better phrase; it sounds dirty to me now.

The Baird Maneuver:
only to be attempted by professionals.
And their girlfriends.

Getting back on track, The Baird Method (patent pending) is a method of art criticism I came up with in college to address some issues I had with how various professors critiqued art.

Some professors I had would criticize an artist for not doing something they had never intended to do in the first place. Most conceptual artists, for instance, have no desire to make their work pretty. Their focus is on the concept; the idea behind the work. Making an artwork all shiny and attractive takes the emphasis away from the point of the art. Andy Warhol didn't put glitter on his Brillo boxes - his focus was on the mundane nature of the objects he was replicating.

Other profs would disparage a piece because they disliked its style or content. To me, this is akin to a movie reviewer saying "I hate horror movies" or giving a movie a bad rating because they didn't like the political message of the film. This is basically another example of criticizing the artist for not staying within the bounds of a critic's personal taste.

The last pet peeve I have is professors who would look at a complete, professionally-crafted piece, and say "I wonder what it would be like if this painting was ten feet tall" or "what if this was a sculpture instead of a painting? Wouldn't that be cool?" What would be cool is if you judged a piece based on its own merit, and didn't compare it to some theoretical version that exists only in your imagination. That would be just swell. (And what is it with art professors always wishing things were bigger? Not everything has to punch you in the eyeballs from fifty feet away).

So yeah, the Baird Method. Basically it consists of 3 questions that address the work from the perspective of the artist, the critic, and the audience. It goes something like this:

What is the artist trying to do? Here we try to see the work from the artist's view - what is she trying to say, what does she want us to get from her art? I feel it is important to start criticism by judging the work on its own terms. It's also important to focus on what the artwork is about, rather than what we expect or wish the work were about. We'll return to imposing our own worldview in question 3.

Did the artist succeed in what they were trying to do? Here is where standard criticism comes in. If the artist was trying to paint a beautiful sunset, did she do the job? Is her color choice aesthetically pleasing? Do her brushstrokes simulate the textures of the scene? Are the anatomy and perspective good enough for the style she's going for?
If the artist has made a conceptual work, does the idea behind the work come through in the piece itself? Often, people will get a certain impression from a work, and then read the artist's statement and realize that the artist was trying to express something completely different. Not that this is a bad thing, but if you're trying to express your personal anguish through a sculpture, and everyone who looks at it thinks it's adorable and cheerful, then you have clearly failed in your initial goal.

Finally, the audience gets into the act with question 3:
The thing that the artist was trying to do... was it worth doing in the first place?
Ultimately, I think it's pointless for a critic to attempt to rid themselves of their preconceptions and become some sort of opinionless robot that takes in visual stimulus and spits out objective criticism. Now matter how fair a critic is, opinion is going to sneak in because we all have our own taste. No one can convince you that you like broccoli. You either do or you don't.
So it's important to be upfront about your personal tastes when giving criticism. For instance, I can appreciate the historical and aesthetic significance of Mark Rothko's paintings while simultaneously hating them and thinking that they suck. I can still fairly criticize him using Questions 1 & 2... it's just when we get to Question 3 that it turns out I think his entire career was a complete waste of time.

Alright, clearly I have as much of a mean streak as my professors, but at least I put it in the proper perspective.

Before I go, there's also the optional Question 4, also known as the "Uh, yeah, I totally did that on purpose" clause:

Did the artist succeed in doing something they weren't actually trying to do? In other words, were they accidentally awesome? This is a useful question if an artist happens to make a conceptual work that is conceptually retarded but very pretty, or if an artist tries to make a beautiful painting but winds up making an ugly but intellectually stimulating one.

Hi Eric

I'm updating my blog so you have something to distract you from your boring life. Feel special now?

God, blogging is such a chore. The last thing I want to do at the end of the day is sit down and tell the internet how my day was. It reminds me of those family photos my mom would make us pose for at theme parks.
"Alright, everybody - stop having actual fun and come here and pretend to have fun for the camera!"
At least it leaves a record of the things I've done. Otherwise the days all blur together and I forget how awesome I am.

So, a few days ago, I met with a group of comic writers/artists I found out about on Craigslist. And I didn't get murdered or nothing!
Mostly I doodled in my sketchpad, which is considered rude and antisocial in any other setting, but everyone else there had sketchpads too. So we could be antisocial together. It was like the internet, but with people.



These are some columns in the food court where our meeting was held. Tres exclusive. See - it was so exclusive, I had to use french words to describe it.



A squid. I like drawing squids because tentacles can go wherever. You don't have to plan your drawing in advance. I'm lazy.

The meeting was mostly just fooling around and BSing about our art techniques. But they are talking about putting together an anthology, which would be cool if it actually happened. Details seemed vague at this point. But we did manage to create 2 collaborative comics while the "professionals" in the group showed off their ipads and tablets and things that poor people like me don't have.



I provided the punchline for this one! They all seemed to like it.



This one is about a drop of urine for some reason. I claim no responsibility.

They're supposed to be having another meeting soon, but I'm not sure if I want to deal with Norfolk traffic/construction to attend. Plus I have to plan my trip to Richmond to sleep with Eric's girlfriend on Eric's couch. I want to actually post some work on some online art sites first so I can finally fail and give up on this crazy art thing once and for all. Also I'm seeing Iron Man 2 tomorrow.

So... there's that. God I'm so exciting I could piss myself.

Have I Mentioned

that I do commissions? I believe I have, just a few posts down, actually.
And I recently completed my first commission in awhile!

A coworker asked me: "Can you draw strawberries?"
To which I responded: "I can draw anything."
(note the profound humbleness and modesty with which I discuss my craft.)

She was careful to point out "I mean strawberries, you know. Not plums."
Because that's clearly an issue. The two are so alike.
Fortunately I saw a strawberry once. They're the ones with the seeds on the outside, right? I believe they look a little like this:



BAM!

How do you like them apples... I mean strawberries?

I started out with Sharpies for the base colors, then did some Prismacolor pencils over the markers. My sister's friend's daughter Kaylee helped with the background. I gave her a colored pencil and let her scrawl over the piece. I decided to use her squiggles and add my own. After awhile, it started to come together and I felt like an actual artist! I also did it in one sitting, which is unheard of for me. (Just kidding, people who want to commission me for work - I'm always really professional. Honest). Just 4 hours total.

"Yep. I like it." Was her reaction. And then the day after,
"Everyone really likes it." I don't know who 'everyone' is, but I'm glad they like it! I like it, too.

What I also like: money in my pocket. Thanks for the commission, coworker.

I've Been Busy

And tired. And my pinky hurts.

Alright, alright. Apparently some people (Mallory) read this blog, so now I gotta keep updating it or whatever. How am I supposed to ogle Dr. McDreamy on Gray's Anatomy make art when I have to stop every five minutes to tell the internet that I'm making art? God, pretending to have a social life is so taxing.

Anyway, I went to see Mallory and Heather's show Amigas Muertas at 37th and Zen the other day. Proof:



This is your classic "The flash sure is taking a long time, I wonder what's wrong with FUUUUUUU**" shot, where I proceeded to inspect my camera at the exact moment it decided to take the picture. Perfect comic timing like this is proof that God exists, and he's a smartass.



That's more like it.

And so what if I'm sporting my "Not homeless, just too lazy to shave" mustache.
The show was really nice - great food, super comfy couches. Oh, and I guess there were some paintings up on the walls. Wasn't really paying attention.



I was busy sketching. Because I always like to feel productive when the conversation wanes and I'm left to my own devices. This is a drawing I did of Mallory, which I had her sign because I used to do that to girls in high school. At the time, I rationalized it as giving them credit for modeling for my art. In reality, it was just a clumsy starter to a creepy conversation that went nowhere very slowly.

"I drew this of you. Would you sign it?"
No, I'm not a serial killer. Why do you ask?

So glad I gave up social interaction after high school.



Another drawing. This makes up for the really crappy sketch I made right before it that we SHALL NOT SPEAK OF AGAIN.



My bootleg of one of Mallory's pieces. I'm thinking of parking my car outside of her shows from now on, and selling sketches of her paintings from my trunk.

Why yes, I have a rich and fulfilling fantasy life. Thanks for noticing.



There was a fishtank in the middle of the room. Above the fireplace. I'm not sure if that's ironic, but it's at least Alanis Morissette ironic.
People spent more time staring at the fish than the art. I find that somehow charming.

From conversations I overheard, it sounds like Mal and Heather stand a good chance of selling some pieces. Bleh. So capitalist. What part of 'starving artist' do they not get? You can't be avant garde and pay rent, guys. It's the law.

It's a shame I can't really sum up the night in words, but I will say that it was good to have an actual conversation with people who appreciate my genius. It had been awhile. Also, Heather and Mal's work looks so much better in person than in Facebook photos.

Speaking of Facebook photos, it was weird having Mallory continually introducing me to people whom I recognized from pics on her Facebook albums.
Dramatic Reinactment:
Me, to myself: "Hey, that's Mallory's mom."
Mallory: "Hey Chris, this is my mom."
It's odd feeling like an unintentional stalker. This is why I prefer having conversations with anonymous strangers on the internet.
Also, this:



Not a reinactment, but it's probably what people were thinking.
Because they don't understand my dark tortured whatchamacallit.
I'm an artist, dammit. I must do art. It's what I do.

Great show, Mal and Heather. Looking forward to the next one.
Peace!