Monday, February 21, 2011

Athena Chow, Response #numero Uno

As students, artists, and viewers alike, I think we tend to subconsciously critique art pieces in the order of form first, and then content. Our perception of artwork is first form, because form, as described by Kendall and Paula, is the elements we naturally observe when first encounter an art or design piece: shape, size, color, scale, composition, etc. Our visual impression, is then followed usually by a curiosity for wanting to understand the piece better. When we search for content, we are usually looking for some sort of narrative, information, or deeper meaning behind the piece that could be alluding from the piece’s title or even from the form itself—this is called formalism, as noted by The Critique Handbook.

As I further read the handbook, I learned that many aspects should be taken into account for when giving a critique. Is the artwork based off of accurate realism? Or of abstraction that includes some reality to it and yet also some distorted imagination? Is the artwork an object representing a mimesis-- an imitation-- of another object or experience? Is this a nonrepresentational piece with no real underlying structure from our reality? What kind of lines are drawn—soft, hard, contour-like, scribbly, straight, accidental, or intended? Do the colors give me a certain elated emotion when looked upon? Or are they clashing and giving me a sense of anxiousness? Does the framing, format, and edges of the piece help add to the content or visual aesthetic intended by the artist? Do I see a correlative message that pertains to the idea of something political, historical, personal, fictional, or perhaps, even nothing at all? Do I associate this piece with something I’ve seen or experienced before? On what scale is the piece being displayed? Is the piece carrying some miniscule, tentative details that needs to be scrupulously observed over? Or is the piece made part of a room, an installation, that is causing me as a viewer, to take part in a magnified sensory experience? What materials and process did the artist use to arrive to his or her final masterpiece? Wood, cardboard, plastic, paint, found material, tape, glue? Were special adjustments needed to assemble the work, such as prop-ups and pedestals, to give the illusion of suspension and gravity?

After reading the first chapter of The Critique Handbook by Kendall Buster and Paula Crawford, I felt like I was more formally informed on the technicalities of critiquing. When I first read Kendall and Paula's introduction of how critiques tend to be given with the formal ‘praiseworthy’ and ‘complaining’ sort of comments-- a made example of this could be, "This ceramic elephant has superb detailed-craftsmanship in its meticulously painted colors and patterns, but I think its sculpted ears and hind legs could have been made a bit more proportional."--I kind of smiled to myself about this. First, because this typical way of critiquing rang so true, and secondly, because I had never really given thought to the formal dissection of a critique-- I found it interesting to learn about the formal terminology and many little aspects that encompassed proper critiquing. As a 3rd-year art and design student who has participated in many classes and critiques herself, I found The Critique Handbook to be quite helpful and interesting, especially in the areas of certain critiquing details that I had not known before. I definitely feel like some of the terms within the handbook could help me express my next critique more intellectually and succinctly.

Kendall and Paula overall, did an excellent job on elaborating and giving an in-depth overview of the various aspects that could be analyzed within a critique.

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