Artist Statements

The topic of this week’s blog post is one that seems to cause perennial problems for artists and editors alike – the artist statement. We all know the agony of trying to express something of great significance in our lives, something that touches the core of our being, and we have shared the frustration of finding, too often, that the words at our disposal simply aren’t enough. Either it takes far too many words to explain, long-windedly, the concept that is so clear in your mind, or you are left with staccato sentences that lack the resonance of your intention. Sometimes there just aren’t the words for what you want to say. It is, perhaps, particularly galling to artists, because the very nature of their talent generally means that they are more comfortable – and more used to – expressing themselves in some visual manner – paint, sculpture, photography, etc – rather than the written word. Writing it down, you might feel, can never really say what you mean.

Then, when you have finally managed to get down an approximation of what you wanted to say, you inevitably send it to a friend, a colleague, an editor, to get their feedback. And they usually want to change something or add or remove a word or a detail, which starts the whole process off again. Believe me, it is just as painful for the editor to cut or change as was to write it in the beginning – everyone knows how difficult it is to find just the right format, the best expression, and people frequently feel a natural delicacy about helping craft something they know to be important to another person on a personal level. It can be extremely challenging to polish the grammar or shorten the length without feeling that you’re disturbing the flow of self-expression. On the other hand, it can be easier than the original task, because at least there is something there to work with right from the start.

For this reason, many artists prefer to approach someone they know and trust with more experience writing (family, a friend, a gallery they belong to) and ask them to write the first draft on their behalf. This option works in some respects like a consultation – the artist explains, either in a conversation or by providing written material, about themselves and how their background, education and choices contribute to their work, and what kinds of techniques they prefer to use when they’re creating a piece, and so on. The writer then goes away and does their best to distill what they’ve been told into a hundred or a few hundred words. They take this to the artist, who reads it and either likes it or makes some changes, and this goes on until everyone, particularly the artist, is happy with the finished product.

If you would rather write it yourself from the start, though, there are a number of things to bear in mind that might help ease the most common difficulties. First, don’t worry when you find yourself sitting in front of a blank piece of paper or a white screen. Sometimes artists think that because they are supposed to be writing about themselves and what they do, this should automatically make the whole task easy, and then they worry when it turns out not to be. The fact is that unless you’re one of those lucky people with a knack for written self-expression, it’s more likely than not that you’ll run into problems and the famous ‘writer’s block’. Writing about oneself is difficult, and requires self-reflection and thought. Give yourself that time – sit down somewhere you’re comfortable, ponder, make notes. Perhaps draw a spider diagram connecting themes or events. If you’re not sure you’ve collected everything you need, carry a notebook around with you for a few days to jot down further thoughts as they come to you.

Having spent time sorting through your ideas, you may find yourself with too much material. It is tempting to just put it all in and hope that the reader will work out for themselves what is most important and where all the connections are. Don’t. For one thing, it’s never sensible to test your audience’s attention span when you want them to pay attention to something, and for another, it doesn’t actually help. It’s not a book, it’s a statement. It’s something that you can use to tell the world who you are and what you are as an artist. People should be able to walk away from reading it with an idea of that, which they can bear in mind and which may be of interest or use to them when they are looking at your work. Don’t throw away this opportunity by making it so long that most people give up before the end, and those who read it through fail to come away with an image of you they can hold in their mind when viewing your art.

It is crucial, therefore, to work out which details, which points really are relevant. What is it you really want to say? How do you want to present yourself? Remember that you are presenting your artist self, and that some of the facts that are relevant to other parts of your life are not necessarily appropriate here. On the other hand, don’t be afraid to include something that you really do think important, even if it isn’t directly relevant to your work – an experience from childhood, perhaps, or travel. Decide which aspects of the ideas you thought of will be of most help to someone who is viewing your art.

Lastly, and very importantly, be honest. Be honest with yourself when you are sorting through memories, emotions and thoughts at the beginning, and when you are choosing what to include and what to exclude. Be honest with your readers when you start to write. It’s a difficult task, putting a part of yourself on paper for the world to see, but it will not ring true, will not be compelling, and will not help your audience, unless you are honest about it. Of course, all of us are constantly changing, but the best you can do is to try to capture something of yourself at the moment – and then return next year, to reevaluate and, if necessary, rewrite.

We’d love to hear about your experience expressing yourself as an artist, so do leave any stories, thoughts or questions in the comments.