Pulp Writing

On Criticism: The Artist and The Critic

“There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.” -Aristotle

Birdman critic scene.jpg

So I’m going to do my best to avoid ranting or being petty here but I do want to be upfront about my bias for the artist or creator. There are several professional critics whom I greatly admire and hold their opinions in high regard and while I find art criticism/art curation a valuable and worthwhile enterprise I simply don’t believe that being a critic requires as much courage, effort, or risk on their part as it does to be an artist/creator. That’s not to say that critics risk nothing because an authentic critic will go against the grain even if it means putting his or her reputation on the line, but honestly artists do that with every work they release to the public.

With that said I want this to be an encouragement and act as a sort of primer of what to expect for all of my aspiring artists out there, whether you do painting, sculpting, writing, filmmaking, musical performance, etc. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out on display and bare your soul to the public knowing full well that it’s not going to connect with some people and others will even ridicule you for trying (even more so if you are hoping to make a living out of it). Though if everyone listened to those small-minded people, there would be no more art and what a sad, empty world that would be.

In this essay I intend to explore two different forms of criticism:

Professional Criticism - as in, those that cover and critique art for a living or, at least, receive some form of monetary compensation for it and their relationship to artists as well as how they influence the way art is received by culture.

Non-Professional Criticism - the general public, the “wannabe” critics, haters/internet trolls, and overly-sensitive/moral outragers and their relationship to art, artists, and censorship.


Professional Criticism

In Alejandro Iñárritu’s 2014 film Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) Michael Keaton plays washed-up, Hollywood actor Riggan Thomson. A couple of decades prior Thomson was the star of the extremely successful, superhero film franchise Birdman (a very meta role for Keaton since his real-life career mirrored his character’s at the time). In the film’s storyline Thomson is now trying to revive his career by writing, directing, and starring in a Broadway play in hopes it will cement him as a “true artist.”

There are countless obstacles in Thomson’s path but the biggest one is the influential theater critic Tabitha Dickinson. At a chance meeting in a bar Thomson attempts to get in the critic’s good graces by buying her a drink when she informs him that she hates him and his kind (Hollywood actors) and she’s going to give his play a terrible review without having ever seen it.

The following exchange about the differences between the artist and the critic ensues:

(Warning: Graphic Language)

I love this scene because as childish as Thomson might behave in it I believe every artist has wanted to say something like this or felt this way toward those critics that harshly and thoughtlessly review works of art without respecting the time, effort, and money that has often gone into them. I also believe this scene brings up an important aspect of the world of art criticism and that is the subject of “gatekeeping.”

Gatekeeping in the art world is when a person, thing, or institution keeps others from having access to something, that something often being exposure to a larger audience. Exhibition directors at museums, wealthy collectors, and, of course, well-known critics are all good examples of gatekeepers in the art world since they are often the deciding factors of who receives the acclaim and recognition and who gets shoved aside. Major book publishers, Hollywood film studios, and major record labels can also be considered gatekeepers as well, but a positive review from an established critic can greatly help a writer, filmmaker, or musician break into all of these industries.

This illustrates the power wielded by some professional critics and, just as portrayed in the film Birdman, that power can be abused causing much resentment toward these critics by many struggling artists, especially when artists often feel that those same harsh critics do not have the talent, patience, or work-ethic to create the very art that they disparage.

Artists’ often antagonistic relationship with critics will occasionally boil over into humorously barbed statements such as this one by writer Brendan Behan:

“Critics are like eunuchs in a harem; they know how it’s done, they’ve seen it done every day, but they’re unable to do it themselves.”

This is a widespread sentiment among many in the art community, but is it actually true? Are there instances where critics have turned into artists?

An example we can look to is film critic Chris Stuckmann. Stuckmann has been uploading film reviews on Youtube for a little over ten years and has gained quite a significant fan base, myself counted among them. Within the last few years he has begun making very small-scale independent film shorts and taking them to various film festivals.

The following are some of his comments on transitioning from a film critic to a filmmaker:

“…film criticism has never been my goal in life, filmmaking was always and still is my goal… The internet, and honestly I’m a part of this, takes so much focus on whether or not what you created is a masterpiece and it might not be. More than likely it isn’t, but you still got together and you made something and that’s just insanely inspiring.”

I really like seeing a critic learn what it feels like to be on the flip side of that coin and coming to the realization that everything you create won’t necessarily be utter perfection but understanding the significance in having the courage to put yourself out there and make something, which is so much more than most people (critics included) can say.

As I mentioned earlier, many critics also don’t understand or respect the fact that a lot of money, time, and labor has been spent on the artists’ part, and this is especially true for the smaller, independent artists that are funding their own projects. Stuckmann saved up his own money and spent $17,000 for his film short Auditorium 6. Now I don’t believe that working on a smaller scale or a micro-budget should make your project free from criticism but I do think that should be taken into account when it is being compared to the major productions with massive budgets.

For example, I’m sure most critics (professional or otherwise) that read my book Black Flowers will compare it to the works published by the major publishing companies with massive budgets and marketing teams never taking into account that I wrote, published, and marketed it funded by the money out of my own pocket. Altogether, I spent just over $4,000 hiring freelance professionals: two editors, an interior designer, and a cover designer; then created my own publishing business, Dark Currents Press, in order for my book to stand a chance in competing with the big dogs in the marketplace. And to be honest, I think I did a damn fine job and I would do it all over again because this is the culmination of a life-long dream for me.

Now that I’ve covered the art community’s relationship with the world of professional criticism and how much established critics can help or hinder an artist’s reach, I want to end this section on an uplifting note for all of my frustrated, struggling artists out there. The following are a few examples of when an artist or piece of art was not initially well-received critically, but the art/artist has withstood the test of time, been re-evaluated, and/or gained a cult following:

-The crime, horror, and science fiction/fantasy writers that got their start writing for the cheap pulp magazines of the 1920s-30s were once considered “low-brow” or “lesser” artists than their literary counterparts at the time. Now these writers, such as Raymond Chandler, H.P. Lovecraft, and Edgar Rice Burroughs, are published in the Penguin Classics series which is reserved for works considered to be enduring literary classics.

-The director John Carpenter’s horror/sci-fi film The Thing was initially a critical failure and box office bomb when it was released to theaters in 1982 with critic Roger Ebert referring to it as a “disappointing,” “barf-bag movie” with “superficial characterizations.” It is now considered an extremely influential horror classic with groundbreaking practical effects and scenes of unparalleled tension and suspense.

-The British indie-pop band The 1975’s self-titled, debut album was a commercial success but was panned by the majority of music critics. British music magazine NME named them the “Worst Band In The World” only to perform a complete 180 two years later with their second album I Like It When You Sleep, For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware of It by awarding it their “Album of The Year.”

The artistic landscape is littered with thousands of other examples I could use, but I believe I’ve made my point. If you are an artist that has labored and struggled over your work only for it to be met with harsh criticism and rejection don’t throw in the towel and give up. The aforementioned artists were once there as well, but all of them were either re-evaluated with time, took a while to find their audience, or came back with an explosive piece of art that made those critics eat their own words.

“…When courage dies, creativity dies with it. …fear is a desolate boneyard where our dreams go to desiccate in the hot sun.” -Elizabeth Gilbert

Next week in Part II of this essay on criticism I’ll cover Non-Professional Criticism in the age of the internet, what to expect, and some of my own personal experiences with it. Catch ya later, folks!