A friend of mine, who is a fantastic fiber artist, posted a link recently to a really great blog post at Ask Harriete about the tendency of people to copy the work of crafters, sometimes blatantly! You can read the original article here. (Thanks for the link, Liz, I'll be reading this blog more often, it's really good!)
I rolled it around in my head. I've been guilty of the same thing, and I wondered why. it wasn't hard to make the leap to the conclusion. Here is my response:
I've done it. In my head I've said, " I can make that." Sometimes I can (because it's not that original or cool) sometimes I buy the artist's work (because it is cool and original). It seems to me, though the very reason that people feel that it is ok to copy it is how we the artists put our work out there. We call them crafts. as they are, but craft in our society implies something very different. Craft implies accessibility, a hobby, something anyone can do or teach. Think about it, we have craft stores, craft groups, craft shows. At each and every one we show "crafts". This very fact implies to our customers that this is something anyone can do.
I was once in a fiber guild who met at an art studio. They referred to themselves as artists and their items as art. They may have worked in a craft, but their pieces were all art. I found that people changed their attitudes when they looked at the pieces. They stopped being something "anyone" could do and started being the individual and unique work of an artist. People are less willing to ask an artist their techniques than they are willing to ask a "crafter" about them. I remember when one member of that same guild had knitted eyelash scarves in a juried gallery! These were the stuff of craft shows, but because she presented them as art, that is what they became.
Now I'm not trying to negate the author's points, I think they are fantastic, actually. I cringe each time I hear "Oh, I could make that!" even though I myself have said it in my head. It's just rude. My thought, though, is that if we begin treating our own work as art and calling ourselves artists or artisans, and our work as art, we may see less of that "craft" mentality.
Imagine as a weaver that you have a booth at an arts (never crafts!) show where you introduce your pieces as "handwoven scarves". Your next door neighbor markets hers as "one of a kind wearable art pieces" and makes her artist's resume accessible. It will absolutely change the attitude of the people viewing the items. It won't fix the problem, but it's definitely something to consider when we market our work. I think it will go a long way towards legitimizing our work as well.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Gigantism and walking
In an effort to improve my health and reduce the size of my jeans I've begun a campaign of walking/jogging. I love walking. Especially long distances. It's weird, but whatever. You like weird stuff too. Stuff like shrimp and footrubs and footrubs while eating shrimp. Even weirder, eating shrimp while receiving footrubs from shrimp. You sicko.
I digress. In the course of my recent walks I've happened upon a curious phenomenon. It seems that there is a rash of freakishly large things appearing in people's front yards. I'm not sure how this happens, or how one prevents it. No one wants to wake up one morning to a 15 foot tall replica of the Titanic in their yard, but these sorts of things may be unpreventable. As evidence, I offer these:
These things were found in entirely different neighborhoods, so clearly this can happen anywhere. Protect yourselves, Protect your families, Protect your yards, lest you wake up one morning to a giant, angry shrimp front and center in your front yard. (I told you all that weirdness would come back to haunt you.)
I digress. In the course of my recent walks I've happened upon a curious phenomenon. It seems that there is a rash of freakishly large things appearing in people's front yards. I'm not sure how this happens, or how one prevents it. No one wants to wake up one morning to a 15 foot tall replica of the Titanic in their yard, but these sorts of things may be unpreventable. As evidence, I offer these:
A ginormous Ikea deer |
Massive Snow Knight |
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