The major questions of life are rarely answered in a day, a week, a year, or even a decade. But along with “What is art?” another vital question an artist is asked to grapple with is “How is it that the artist shall live?”
And the answer to that comes as an artist lives his or her life. The lifestyle of any artist is no doubt an eclectic decision. Or many eclectic decisions. For me though, emulating Julian Harr was more or less a closing of the loop that I had started in Dallas when I rented my first “Studio in the Slums.”
And my lifestyle was built on the fruit of living the lifestyle I chose. I made art. I lived in a place and manner that induced me to make art. There really wasn’t much else for me to do. I was living in an industrial building surrounded by tools that I had purchased to use. I also bought materials which needed to be used. Had I not started making art in that environment, I would have been unable to answer the questions, “Why was I living there?” and “What was I doing?”
The basic picture of how my life had developed while I was starting out, became a solid basis for living which withstood the test of time. It has continued on, to this day, not changing much, year after year.
If you draw a somewhat solitary figure that calls his or herself an artist, spends a good deal of their time alone in a space designated for such activity, supplied with enough tools and materials, imagination, and drive, gradually a picture will emerge. The image is that of one who chooses to make whatever he or she wants to make, or do whatever it is he or she wants. At the end of all that, the “work” that he or she does, can possibly get some exposure, a lot of exposure, or very little exposure.
And with luck (or even without luck) an audience may, or may not develop, and that audience will either love the work that is done, ignore the work that is done, rail against it, question it, applaud it, devalue it, or perhaps purchase what it is that the artist has done.
And the lonely figure will do his or her best to evaluate the entire situation and come to grips with what he himself is doing, as well as what the audience is doing, and then within a given period of time, he will repeat the very same experience all over again. This pattern of behavior will coalesce into something that is sometimes called “art.”
At least this has been my experience.
Within the next few years, a number of other things happened as well.
One was that I applied for and received a National Endowment for the Arts, “Artist in the Schools” grant, and the other was I joined an artist-run Co-op Gallery in downtown Albuquerque.
The “Artist in the Schools” program was a very unique opportunity in that it made me feel as if I mattered in a world where very little did matter. Also, it was up to the artist to decide how to implement it. My role was to simply be an artist and share what I did with the students. I was not to be a teacher or a teacher’s assistant. I was to work in the schools exposing the students to my artwork and to those parts of myself that were deemed artistic. Fifty percent of my time was to be spent in the classroom, and the other fifty percent was to be spent focusing on my own work. And weekly, I received real money for doing this.
This was probably the best thing I could have possibly fallen into. I figured out how I wanted to work with the students, and I spent the majority of that time working in elementary schools. I lived in Albuquerque so this particular grant, which allowed me to work in the Albuquerque school system was especially beneficial to me. And, in time, I learned that the Albuquerque school system was considered one of the better locations in New Mexico for a number of reasons.
To make the program work, I became a one-man traveling art circus. I would load up a bunch of my artwork and sculptures in my truck, and I also bought with me a number of the drawings and artwork I had done while I was in elementary school. I also shared with the students a broad range of the work I had done. I would set up in an unused space in a school that varied from unused classrooms to spaces in hallways, and I was allotted an hour to spend with the kids in one class. I would work at a school until I had seen each and every kid who was in attendance.
I would do a 20-minute presentation about myself, and what an artist did, show all the artwork I could, and I talked a lot about imagination and how important it is to hang on to it.
At the end of my presentation, I would have a lot of cut up shapes of wood, glue, paint, hammers, nails, wire and a few miscellaneous tools, and the rest of the allotted time, I was a child amongst children helping each and every one to make their very own work of art (at record speeds). I would clean up after everyone left with their “sculptures” in hand and soon another class would arrive, and we would do it all again.
I geared things slightly differently for Middle School age kids, but I found they responded very positively to my approach. I also worked with a lot of high school students in an entirely different way. It was all challenging but very rewarding. And looking back on it, I was a good deal younger then, and one really needed to be younger to get through the day.
I did this for two years which gave me the impetus to really focus on my work without having to worry about money and it also allowed me to gain the skills and the ability to teach art to grade 5 through 12 for three years after that.
After I finished with the “Artist in The Schools” grant, I was hired by Sandia Prep School in Albuquerque. I had no teaching certificate and had never taken a teaching class in my life. After teaching others, I came to believe that we are all teachers in one way or another, and that teaching can promote thought and deed in the students one comes across in life…be that for the good or for the bad. I stood before my classes on day one and only after I was thoroughly exhausted did I realize that I had been on stage the whole time. For an introvert such as myself, it was both a good and a bad thing to be on stage.
To effectively communicate with others, you damn well should have a pretty good idea what it is you are communicating. Being an introvert, I had spent my life retracing all my steps, mired in the middle (and the muddle) of who I am and thinking about what I thought until I got somewhere further down the road of “Know Thyself.” The bad part is that an introvert’s energy is eaten alive when other people are involved. You have to learn to pace yourself. I also learned that having a plan “B” was a good idea, as Plan “A” might not work out just the way you think it will. The only other thing you need in teaching is Plan “C, D, E, F, and beyond.”
Because Sandia Prep School was serious about learning, it was entirely possible to earn a grade of A, B, C, D, or F in art. Although, someone had to really work at it to get an F. Lou Liberty, a long-time teacher at that school, kept a wary eye on me to make certain that I was not in danger of going off the deep end because of the constant stress involved in teaching. (I had after all replaced a teacher who had her hair set on fire by students in the last year of her employment.)
Lou gave me one bit of advice when I started that I still try to live by, “Don’t volunteer for anything,” she said, “they will always need volunteers.” It was good that she kept tabs on me because most mornings would start out stressful, and the stress built throughout the days, and then the weeks, and even the months and years.
“Really teaching” was a daunting experience, and at the end of my second year, I decided I really liked my time on the “Artist in the Schools” grant much better than “teaching”.
Since applying for the grant had seemed so easy, and the results were so rewarding, I decided that I was so special and so good, I should certainly apply again because it was all so easy and I was sure to get the grant, making my life easier. Besides, the necessary time had elapsed, allowing me to apply again, so why not? Almost no time had passed at all before I got my rejection. It was the first of a vast multitude of rejections that continue to this day.
In fact, in applying for the second time for the grant, I had failed to make the first cut. In other words, my artwork was judged as being inferior and not good enough to allow me to be considered for another NEA “Artist in the Schools” grant at that time. And this was only two years after I had received the grant and was given the position in the coveted Albuquerque school district. In fact, much of the rejected work was produced during the time I was in the program.
Many years would pass before I was able to come to grips with the harshness of all the rejections I was to get, however, whether I came to grips with it or not, the rejections just kept rolling in. So, to boil it all down, it has also been my experience, that when you apply for anything, you might get it and you might not. It’s like fishing. You might catch a fish and then again, you might not.
Teaching is not easy. When I quit the job after only 3 years, I was flat out exhausted. It is amazing how much it can drain your energy, but of course I was also trying to juggle a number of other things at the same time. Fortunately, once I quit, I was soon able to go back to making artwork full time in my studio, and I am forever grateful that that was the case.
Balthazar
Walter