The pointlessness of so-called critique has seldom been more evident than now, when even a definition seems to evade people one might consider capable of understanding the nuances implied…
As well, it underlines the malaise that forms like a cloud wherever a collection of self-styled artists gathers. Ego, fear, pride and envy – such the qualities that pervade. No wonder so many spend their time onsite in the technical measurebating club; possibly they realise that the abstract nature of art makes it a hopeless subject for debate – an utter waste of their day.
Rather than thinking that ”it sucks” is bad criticism, perhaps it’s time to rethink the issue and to see that in a real and basic manner, expression of such an emotion is indeed the most honest of criticism. I have long understood that, for a sane person, belief in one’s instincts is the best judgement one can apply to life. From religion to art, from career to disposal of our own waste at death, we have the answers already built in: we just need to listen to the cold reality our senses try to deliver.
The harsh truth about art is that some people are gifted but a majority is not. It’s the same problem that underscores everything in this modern world, starting with early education and the parental expectation that all shall attain success, however ill-suited the individuals might be to whichever endeavour they apply themselves. We deny life’s realities by offering failure the mask of a double-F pass. Then we are shocked that a prospective employer passes, too. What to do then? Easy: blame the teachers, “the system”, for your child’s (one’s own) stupidity.
Amateur photography offers everyone a cheap yet golden opportunity for expression: seize it and have fun, but in order to do that, switch off the silly voice telling you to ask your fellows whether your work has meaning. How the hell would they know? Suffice that it makes you happy, and most of all that you don’t have to turn it into income.