Melissa Stephens Art

“Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice.”
Steve Jobs

I’ve never found putting myself “out there” easy. Last month I wrote of my gratitude for friends and family who came to see my paintings on display at the Bellefonte Art Museum. I am endlessly blessed and buoyed by the incredible village of kind, loving people who support me, and support they did! Their presence and their words, which I will treasure forever, were unflaggingly encouraging.

However, they were not the only people who viewed my art. I volunteered at the museum several times during the month, noticing the reactions other people had to my work. Some walked cooly past, saying nothing. Their disregard, in hindsight, was quite preferable to the man who chose instead to offer his unsolicited critique. Though shorter in stature than me, it felt as though looked down as he shared his credentials, a BFA degree (Bachelor of Fine Arts). Those 3 letters indicate he’s a card-carrying member of a club, an inner circle of “legitimate” artmakers whose sphere of belonging I will always be outside of, peering in from the perimeter, wanting. Members of that club are accustomed to critiques, to offering and receiving constructive (and destructive) feedback on their work. He never asked if I wanted his opinion, he simply offered it, and I wasn’t prepared. 

He waved dismissively at one of my larger canvases, offering praise for one (tiny) area of it; he didn’t like the black frames on all the work; and he asked a bit scornfully of one piece, “why are there numbers?” Including that painting in the show was a last-minute decision. I chose it over a more polished, perfected piece that felt stiff and lifeless. Unfortunately, the museum missed the late switch and so the new painting hung with the old label. Would the correct title, “Happy Birthday (it’s only a number!),” have made more sense and been more acceptable in his eyes? For me, that painting was raw and energetic, it was the truest, most vulnerable version of myself hanging on the wall for all to see. And he criticized it. Ouch! In that moment of quiet humiliation, though I stood tall and smiled bravely, what I most longed to do was lift an old floorboard in that gorgeous historic home and crawl under, disappearing until the end of the month. Then, with my paintings safely hidden inside my home I could, like a turtle, pull my head and neck back under my protective shell, where (his or anyone else’s) words will never hurt me.

Thank goodness for time and perspective! With these past few weeks to reflect on the experience of that critique, I’ve written my way to 3 important takeaways:

• Though I’ve become better at recognizing, and therefore managing, my own inner critic, I am still light years away from possessing the tools to withstand the criticism of others. At my core, I am a pleaser. I want to be liked! I want to be considered “good.” I want to belong to that dang club! Yet approval and disapproval are two sides of the same coin. I cannot control what other people think or say, positive or negative, about me or the art I make, any more than I can control the flip of that coin. There’s a 50-50 chance of either outcome every time I toss myself, my art, or my writing out into the world. Like Steve Jobs said (above), don’t allow the opinions, the judgements, of others, kind or critical, to silence or change your own voice, your own creative expression. Amen!
• I am not the same person I was when I made that work. It’s been 4-15 months since I finished the paintings for that show and, no surprise, I’ve already moved on. There’s a famous quote from Andy Warhol that reads, “Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they’re deciding, make even more art.” In the end that’s our only choice, the only thing we can control, all we can do, keep going! Keep moving forward! Keep making our art!
• There is no club for “real artists,” those privileged few with initials behind their names and perceived membership cards in their pockets. Acceptance, permission, belonging, they are, as Anne Lamott says, all “inside jobs,” up to us and only us. The real work is continuing to show up to (and for) ourselves. If we can do that, then we can stand in front of any work hanging on any wall and say with pride, “Yes, I made that and I love it!”