Published on <a href="http://ift.tt/2td662z">| Prototyping: From UX to Front End &mdash; Medium</a> sarah arnegard <img alt="" src="http://ift.tt/2tH4SAn">
I have regretted my choice of fine art degree at times for obvious economic reasons, but I’ve never regretting the experience of writing art criticism and analysis and undergoing weekly critiques. Yes we received feedback, but we also received criticism. At times, it was emotionally draining and there were days I wanted to cry or skip class. It wasn’t always “nice” and my teachers and classmates did not try to protect my ego. And thank God for that.
In Chris J. Davis’s recent post, <a href="http://ift.tt/2td5p9L">The critique &amp; being positive</a>, he touched on his experience as a fine art student, and how that taught him to deal with criticism. I had a similar experience, and until recently I assumed rigorous criticism was a foundational aspect of every art and design education. Reading his post inspired me to expound on the idea that criticism is a gift.
<h4>Feedback Vs. Criticism</h4>
I think most designers have heard or believe feedback is a gift that provides opportunities for improvement, and gives the recipient the sense that their work matters. While feedback is venerated in the design community, I’ve observed that criticism is often met with hostility.
Interestingly, feedback and criticism are often conflated despite being distinct concepts.
The goal of feedback to better help one achieve their goals as a creator, so by definition the goals and intentions of the creator matters.
Criticism, on the other hand, is “the analysis and judgment of the merits and faults of a literary or artistic work,” according to the Oxford English dictionary.
Criticism is not necessarily meant to help the creator. A critic analyses the content of a work. It is separate from the creator as a person.
In criticism it need only be the produced artifact, whether marks on the page, musical notes, or lines of code that is relevant — not the creator’s intention. It is about the work’s relationship with the viewer. Intention that is not communicated is lost. The work, the creation itself, is the message.
It was discouraging to pour my creative energy and intellect into something, and for the viewer turned critic not to understand it or like it. But through critics I gained tremendous insight. I learned so, so much. I learned about the critic’s point of view and connotations in my work I didn’t realize because I didn’t know the historical context. I realized I needed to improve my communication skills and better define the goals of my work. To the self aware, difficult comments and observations are the necessary floodlights to see one’s own blind spots.
<h4>Becoming vulnerable</h4>
Creating something and sharing it with the world can be scary. Something one creates can feel like part of one’s self, and it can be extremely painful to bare one’s self and receive negative criticism. We all fear rejection.
But what I learned is, criticism isn’t about me. It’s not about my intentions, my journey, and my experience, because none of that matters if those only exist in my head. If I understand the customer, but I don’t deliver a product that suits their needs, does it really matter that I understood them?
My work is the vessel of my knowledge and intentions made tangible. The work is an object that is separate from myself.
Once I learned this criticism became so much easier. I learned to have more empathy for my viewer and for my critic. I learned that critics can made me better. Yes, you too can learn to have a thicker skin, I promise. I’m not saying that criticism never makes me uncomfortable, or that I never have hurt feelings, but I’m aware it’s necessary and I’ll become better for it.
<h4>“But you can’t judge if you weren’t there!”</h4>
Work should speak for itself because you aren’t always there to explain, defend, and qualify. If you need to do those things, perhaps you should re-evaluate the work. Defenses and explanations may matter to the art historian, the curator, or in the business context, the board, your team, or your manager, but they probably don’t matter to the viewer and they don’t matter to customer. If you deliver something bad, the customer probably doesn’t care why, they just care that it’s shitty. And if someone tells you that be thankful they are honest and that they take the time to communicate at all.
If only people who know what you went through can judge the object you produced then why release it into the public square? When you do that, you consent to criticism.
If the only people who could criticise you were the ones who were there with you as you broke down on the floor of your studio or argued for more budget and failed, the criticism you receive would be so much less valuable. The majority of those consuming the work are probably not those people. And if they are, then, I have to ask you, don’t you want to reach a wider audience? Don’t you want to improve your craft and increase your value at your company? And if you tell me the business you work for thrives in spite of your craft, isn’t that rather cynical? Remember that you cannot reliably reach an audience you don’t understand.
Criticism is an opportunity to grow a thicker skin, to see things from a new perspective, and improve.
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<a href="http://ift.tt/2tcO1BP">Criticism is a gift</a> was originally published in <a href="http://ift.tt/2cAqCpx">prototypr</a> on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Criticism is a gift

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