Writing

I discovered that I had some talent for writing while studying under Walter Darby Bannard and Dr. Paula Harper at the University of Miami. Thanks to their encouragement, I had the gall to approach a local entertainment weekly, and thus published my first art review while still in grad school.

I figured out early on that I only had two goals as an art writer: clarity and profluence. (I learned the latter term a short while ago. I used to think of it as instilling a desire in the reader to continue to the next sentence.) In the mid-'90s there were a lot of counterexamples around. Stilted, obfuscatory, halting, high-sounding prose clung to art like barnacles to a boat hull, contributing nothing but drag. For inspiration I looked to Darby, Clement Greenberg, and Fairfield Porter. With few other like examples, I looked outside of art to Thoreau, Henry Miller, Jean Giono, and Wendell Berry.

Words are unnecessary to the making of art and do not necessarily foster greater appreciation for it. Art that lends itself to verbal explanations is missing the point. Critics who view their services as important to art are stooges in clerical garb. Nevertheless we're grateful to those who can render sublime experiences into words, framing their finer moments so as to inspire readers to seek fine moments of their own. It is exhilarating to witness an astute judgment in action, one that encourages readers to exercise their own judgment in turn. Art writing should aspire to no less. I do what I can.