Acrylic, J. Cherniak
Painting I did maybe a year or two ago. This spring I’ll take a better photo of it when its lighter out so I can really pull out those pinks and teals. My professor looked at it during the critique, didn’t address my painting at all and went on -literally- a half hour long rant not to paint bullshit.
Interesting idea considering more than half of my class did “drippy paintings” and “art therapy” type shit all year. I have no problem with abstract, I love it, but don’t tell me what bullshit is when you THRIVE in it. I was one of MAYBE 5 of 40 students, over the span of 4 years painting actual figurative paintings, on my own with little to no instruction to this professor and I was put under hell by him just because I didn’t want to suck his 75 year old dick.
Regardless, this painting is my favorite, I consider it to be a self portrait, and it’s hanging downstairs in my living room. I like the expression in the eyes, the muscle in the hare’s legs, and the weight of the character as it presents itself to the viewer.
Working on recovering from such a negative environment is hard. I wasn’t reviving much negative feedback on my art, but I was mercilessly neglected to be taught a damn thing because I refused to suck up to my washed up, has-been professor. You know, the type who buys alcohol for the girls when they turn 21. Or how I won’t call this grown man “Charles” in a high school fawning type way.
Point is, it takes a long time to get through emotional baggage. I didn’t make many friends in that painting class, same people every year. Same professor, no option until my final semester to take it with anyone else. That one semester with an adjunct right before graduation proved to me, there’s nothing wrong with me, and its not totally crazy to think some groups of people you’re never gonna click with. They were “a family” and I was the outsider.
Having been in MANY great classroom dynamics this painting also reflects how I felt being stuck at the time. Kind of like, you’re wandering in on my burrow, you know? Taking something I love and making me absolutely dread art, and dread painting. Not quite sure whether I’m about to run off, or stick around and talk. Kind of weary, kind of at peace. Life of a rabbit, no?
Started drawing again, just drawing, just painting, just trying to figure out where to find a space for “Painting Studio with Professor M” in my memories, and after a full year now, still deciding how I want to feel about it and most importantly, what I learned from it.
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