Artist: Pam Ayres - Natural Competence - Rock Island, IL

So you want to be an artist... By Ilana Stanger, Guest Writer

Over the past ten years I have been asked about Graduate school - here is a pretty good article for you to check out.

Here are few things to consider when choosing an MFA program:

1. Consider how many years you want the program to be.

MFA programs usually take between one to three years, depending on the resources and the philosophy of the school. Danielle Taylor, who is in her last year at the University of Iowa's painting program, was drawn to Iowa's three-year MFA. "I wanted to do a three-year program because I worked at Penn's [the University of Pennsylvania] Graduate School of Fine Arts and saw what the grad students went though," she says. "The first year they're just realizing what it is to be in grad school — to work independently. The second year they would get into a groove and then have to graduate in the middle of all this momentum. I've had a third year to prepare to enter the job market. I can still go to my studio every day, but I have a lighter class load and a year to make the transformation. So professionally I think it's been really good." Abigail Cohen, who studied photography at the Savannah College of Art and Design, had the opposite take: "Two years was a great amount of time. It was perfect. I didn't want to be in school forever, I just wanted to get skills. Also, I was leaving a relationship behind, so I would've found it difficult to go to a three-year program. But two years were manageable." Whenever you embark on a new phase of life you have to consider both your personal and professional goals. Think about both in terms of the amount of time you'll spend in an MFA program.

2. Check out the facilities.

You should be given your own studio or a shared darkroom, as well as whatever equipment your discipline requires. One of the reasons Danielle chose Iowa was the private studios it offered its painting students. The studio has been crucial to her art; "a space where you can close the door and make a mess encourages risks because you're less afraid to fail." Abigail also found access to new equipment one of the most important benefits of the MFA program: "the equipment was amazing: computers and excellent labs. The types of things that I could use when I was in school were great."

Find out, before you apply, what sort of facilities and equipment you'll have access to as an art student.

3. Check out the community.

How competitive is it? How diverse? Although Danielle praised the general resources offered by her MFA program, her fellow students and faculty disappointed her. "There is a community, but I'm not a part of it. It's incredibly competitive. Everyone is fighting for scholarships, reputation, shows, attention. Social politics can be very difficult. There is a clique of students who really relate to faculty work, and they get much more supportive critiques. There are people who rip down posters that call for shows and hide them in their studio so no one else can enter." Abigail also noticed competition in her program, but found that in the end the community was more supportive than competitive. "When you're working with a group of people who are out there trying to get the same opportunities as you are then there's definite competition, but at the same time you have to rely on each other for support. It's such an intense period, when you're working on creating art, and no one else is going to really understand where your brain's at."

Frances Hahn, a second year Environmental Design major at the Ontario School of Art and Design, has found the community to be both the best, and the worst, part of her program. Says Fran, "25 people are all doing the same assignments and classes, so a real dialogue builds from critiques and assignments that continues outside the classroom. And the way you learn is mostly through conversations with your peers." But, on the other hand, "the community can be stifling, and there's the threat of all our work looking the same."

Once you're admitted to a program, request the names and numbers of a few students in different phases of the program. Call them and ask about the social atmosphere.

4. Think geography.

Danielle purposely picked a safe city, " I wanted to be able to work in my studio late at night and walk home. There's no distractions here [Iowa City], there's nothing to do except work." But there's also advantages to being in a more vibrant city. Fran appreciates that OCAD is "one of the centers of what's going on in the art community of the city [Toronto]. We always hear about openings and exhibits." Abigail chose SCAD, in part, because "the South was a different place-something I could explore using my camera." Danielle adds that it's best not to go to school with anyone from your undergraduate college: "It eliminates your chances of meeting people and expanding out."

John Moore, Monroe and Edna Gutman Professor of Fine Arts Chair at Penn's Graduate School of Fine Arts, also stresses locations as one of the most important things to look for in an MFA program. Moore favors art programs on the East or West coast, "Because you want to be close to New York, or Los Angeles, or San Francisco. New York is the center of the art world. It's important for graduate students to have access to New York in a direct way. The same thing goes for Los Angeles, or, to a lesser extent, San Francisco. You can see new work in magazines, but with visual art it's at the actual presence of the work where the significant interaction takes place."

Take into account where your school is located, and what will that mean for your outside-the-classroom education. Also consider the cost-of-living in your new region: chances are you won't have much spending money, and while the idea of the starving artist may be romantic, real-life participants tend not to recommend it. Which leads to:

5. Look into the financial aid situation.

Danielle chose Iowa, in part, because it is a state school and offered opportunities for TA-ships. In the end, she feels that the opportunity to TA was one of the most important. "It makes you responsible for the education of people coming out of art school who will be your peers, so you start thinking about what an art education should be, and how you can make your own art education better."

Many art schools offer TA opportunities; some even provide tuition remission and stipends. Think hard about cost before accepting an offer. Remember that this isn't law school-it could take an artist many lifetimes to pay off art school loans.

6. Inquire into the conceptual background of the school.

Danielle is grateful for the time and space she's been given in her MFA program but bemoans the lack of connection between her work and her peer's. "I really suggest that prospective students look deeply into the conceptual backdrop of each school," she warns. "If you paint figures, you want someone else who paints figures so that you have someone to talk to. People here don't relate to my work, and that's very difficult."

Figure out how theoretical you want a school to be, or how hands on, and don't be afraid to ask admissions counselor and faculty members about their conceptual stance.

Once you're admitted to a program, request the names and numbers of a few students in different phases of the program. Call them and ask about the social atmosphere.

7. Be prepared to teach.

Danielle suggests that, if you're not excited about teaching, you should apply for residencies instead. "A residency program can do as much as the MFA, in terms of giving you time and space to work." Abigail, who teaches part-time, stresses that the MFA degree does not lead to lucrative careers. "You pay all this money for an advanced degree so that you can get a teaching job that pays nothing. The reason the job pays nothing is that you're in love with your field. So they know that they don't have to pay you anything--you'll do it anyway."

The MFA is considered a terminal degree-meaning, unlike say an MA, there's no other degree (Ph.D.) that might follow. The MFA qualifies you to teach. That's it. Think about that.

Once you're admitted to a program, request the names and numbers of a few students in different phases of the program. Call them and ask about the social atmosphere.

8. Study faculty work.

Fran appreciates that all her instructors are all active artists. "They're all working artists and designers, so they know the business side as well as the art side. There are ten instructors in my program, and I know them all." Abigail found the faculty informative and supportive: "I think as a graduate student you're always going to be closer to your professors than as an undergraduate. I felt I was joining their ranks as a grad student. In the end I felt that the professors were my friends and colleagues."

John Moore also stresses the importance of familiarizing yourself with faculty work before accepting. "If you're a conceptual artist there's going to be a group of schools with faculty who do that, and those will be more attractive to you than others," he says. Indeed, when Moore, a respected figurative realist painter, took over as chair at Penn, applications from realist painters increased noticeably.

Before accepting, make sure there's someone whose work you admire, and make sure that they are accessible as a professor. Often the less-famous artists are the better teachers: you want to work with someone who values teaching, not just their own work.

9. Take some time off.

Consider taking a few years between your undergraduate and graduate degrees. In their time out of school Abigail worked in a photo store and struggled to build her own business, Danielle worked at the University of Pennsylvania Visual Arts program, Fran was a teacher in Trieste, Italy. "I would encourage taking at least 3-5 years off between graduate and undergraduate," says Danielle. "The students who just came from undergraduate feel their social life is so important and that bleeds into the program. The older students really care about their professional careers, not partying. The ones who came straight from college are also more formulaic. They do what they did their senior year-they haven't expanded. They also don't want it as much, because all they've known is school. They don't know 8 hour work days and trying to get to the studio afterwards. They don't know how valuable time is."

Before you decide you need art school to be an artist, try being an artist while working. Some aim for pay-the-rent jobs-waitressing or working in a coffee shop-to free up their minds for their art. Others try to work within the art world: at a gallery, as an artist's assistant, or in an art shop. This can be a good way to learn the business side of the art world-although, as with all business, be prepared to be disillusioned.

10. Be prepared to defend your choice.

Fran bemoans the funny looks she gets from some people when they hear she's at art school. Laughing, she recalls how "at dinner parties when someone is in law school everyone will say, 'Ooh, law school,' and then when I say I go to art school there's just this silence, or an 'Oh.'" Danielle notes that "making art is so integral to your soul that you're really vulnerable. You need to prove that its worthy of your time, your money, and the lifestyle you're going to live. And you need someone outside your family and friends to recognize its value. It's psychologically demanding."

Why endure the funny looks and the inherent insecurity of the MFA life? John Moore, who, before coming to Penn, worked at Boston University and at Temple's Tyler School of Art, praises the MFA option. "Graduate school is attractive because it's a gateway to the profession," he points out. "An MFA is pretty much a necessity for teaching, unless you have a dramatic reputation in your field. But teaching's not the main thing. People go to graduate school as previous generations of artists might have gone to Paris. It's seen as the capstone to a career. Right now, it's the only kind of forum where ideas are in the air and being constantly shaped."

An MFA is only a good career choice if you are committed to a life of art and teaching. If you think art is something you'd like to do on the side, then by all means do so. And skip the MFA.

If, however, you want to put art right smack center in your life, then an MFA program might be just the thing to give you the skills, training, connections, and resources to be a fine artist.

This article was originally created for TheArtBiz.com. It appears on NYFA Interactive courtesy of the Abigail Rebecca Cohen Library.

Art21: Compassion -

Watch the full episode. See more ART:21.

The Tradition of Teaching

by Monica Zimmerman

Fig. 1: Thomas Eakins (1844-1916), Arcadia: Figure Study, Female Nude, ca. 1883. Oil on wood panel, 5-3/4 x 7-3/4 in. Charles Bregler's Thomas Eakins Collection. Purchased with the partial support of the Pew Memorial Trust and the Henry S. McNeil Fund. At the beginning of each school term, matriculating students at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts gather for an orientation session. Between such nuts and bolts details as locker combinations and studio assignments, Albert Gury, chair of the painting department, introduces them to the academic lineage they are about to become a part of -- it is one of the most important discussions they will have about the education they are about to receive. Gury's introductory talk, which he lightheartedly terms, "The Lineage," helps students see the incredible influence that the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts has exerted on every generation of painters, sculptors, print-makers, and illustrators since its founding in 1805. Referred to by some students as "Six Degrees of Thomas Eakins," Gury helps students see how European academic traditions, always dominant at the Academy, have passed from teacher to student over countless generations. This spring, The Tradition of Teaching, an exhibition curated by Gury, allows a larger audience the chance to chart these influences through the work of thirty-six of the over two hundred faculty artists who have taught at the Academy since its inception. The artists were selected for their particularly strong influence as mentors and role models on the students they taught.

Fig. 2: Thomas P. Anshutz (1851-1912), Untitled (Cast Drawing: Milo of Croton from rear). Charcoal on white laid paper, 24-1/2 x 18-5/8 in. Gift of Mrs. Edward R. Anshutz. In any history of the Academy's faculty -- and many have been written -- the professorial pyrotechnics of Thomas Eakins (1844-1916), faculty member from 1876 to 1886, provide an obvious starting point (Fig. 1). Like his mentor before him, Christian Schussele (1824-1879), Eakins trained in Paris at the Ecole des Beaux Arts and brought his rigorous European academic training back to the United States. His passion for realism and anatomical accuracy was unflagging, and when he took over the Academy's life classes in 1883, he immediately introduced new teaching methods based on live models. Gone was the lengthy apprenticeship to drawing antique casts, and in its place was an emphasis on anatomy unparalleled at other art schools. He instituted a dissection room for students to closely view human and animal cadavers and intensive color and spatial studies, and acknowledged the usefulness of photography in working within a realist paradigm. Although his career at the Academy was truncated by misunderstandings and scandal, his affect on his students was marked. When he left in 1886 in a flurry of controversy, his student and friend Thomas Anshutz (1851-1912) took up many of his tutorial responsibilities for the life classes and continued to promote a curriculum grounded in drawing and figure studies, both of which remain integral to the curriculum at the Academy (Fig. 2).1

Fig. 3: Cecilia Beaux (1855-1942), Gertrude and Elizabeth Henry, 1898-1899. Oil on canvas, 64 x 37-1/4 in. Funds provided by the descendants and relatives of Gertrude and Elizabeth Henry and by the Pennsylvania Academy. Fig. 4: Daniel Garber (1880-1958), Students of Painting, 1923. Oil on composition board, 18 x 21-15/16 in. Gift of John Franklin Garber and Mrs. Tanis Page. In the years following Eakins' tenure, William Merritt Chase (1849-1916) and Cecilia Beaux (1855-1942) were instructors of particular note. Best known for their work as first rank portraitists, Chase also excelled at landscapes and still lifes. Both artists studied in Europe during the noisy revolution of French Impressionism and brought the light-infused palette and expressive brushwork into their own art, though neither ever lost sight of their grounding in the fundamentals of realism and figurative drawing. Each cultivated careful public personas, Chase as a genteel but cosmopolitan gentleman and Beaux as the consummate professional. She was the first female faculty member appointed to the staff of the Academy, a bold move in 1895, but one that proved invaluable as Beaux became one of the most sought after portrait painters in the country (Fig. 3), compared regularly to John Singer Sargent.2 At the end of the nineteenth century these two artists, in addition to Thomas Hovenden (1840-1895), Robert Vonnoh (1858-1933), Daniel Garber (1880-1958) (Fig. 4), and others, promoted the Academy's strong traditions while incorporating the latest innovations in technique from Europe. After 1900, the rise of modernism in America jettisoned much popular support for the traditional European-style training obtained at the Academy. Coupled with the institution's inability to keep up with new competition from the myriad art institutions springing up across the country, the early twentieth century has often been referred to as a fallow period for Academy artists.3 However, Academy traditions influenced notable contemporaries of the day who were not necessarily teaching at the Academy, especially Robert Henri (1865-1929), luminary of an influential group of artists known as The Eight. Henri's early studies at the Academy with Thomas Anshutz and Robert Vonnoh imbued his developing philosophies with the importance of realism, a grounding principle in the gritty urban scenes he and his collaborators were eventually known and named for when critics dubbed them the "Ashcan School." In an open letter to the Art Students League in October 1917, Henri himself touted Eakins as a particular influence on his own brand of social realism. "Eakins was a deep student of life, and with a great love he studied humanity frankly. He was not afraid of what his study revealed to him.... Personally, I consider him the greatest portrait painter America has produced." This emphasis on depicting what is real and knowable about contemporary life went on to influence future Academy artists like Francis Speight (1898-1989) (Fig. 5), whose lengthy tenure as Academy faculty spanned 1927-1961, and who was notorious for riding public trolleys around the mill towns of the Schuylkill Valley to capture the true essence of life in suburban Philadelphia.

Several faculty members, including Arthur B. Carles (1882-1952), Henry McCarter (1866-1942), and Hugh Breckenridge (1870-1937) exposed students to components of modernism through their own work as well as several compelling exhibitions in the early 1920s. Carles especially wowed his students with the ability to range across the stylistic gamut from realism to cubism, painting his favorite model as a figural piece and an abstraction in the same year (Fig. 6). Carles had studied at the Academy under Anshutz and Chase, then traveled extensively in France, where he encountered the works of Picasso, Gauguin, Manet, and Cezanne.4 He also met Edward Steichen, and through him, Alfred Steiglitz. The Academy's White Callas (1925-27), a colorful still life by Carles, remains a popular piece for students to copy even today.

LEFT: Fig. 5: Francis Speight (1896-1989), Late Afternoon, 1931.Oil on canvas 30-3/16 x 22-1/8 in. John Lambert Fund. RIGHT: Fig. 6: Arthur B. Carles, Jr. (1882-1952), White Callas, 1925-1927. Oil on canvas, 50-3/4 x 37-3/4 in. Gift of Harry G. Sundheim, Jr.

An examination of the many illustrious Academy artists, however, reveals not just their aesthetic legacy as painters, sculptors, and printmakers, but also their place in history as versatile, accomplished professionals. J. Alden Weir (1852-1919), a leading American impressionist (Fig. 7) and faculty member in 1912-1913, was known as a skilled etcher and engraver, as well as a founding member of organizations like The Ten American Painters and the Society of American Artists. As passionate about anatomical accuracy as Eakins, George Bridgman (1865-1943), who taught at the Academy in 1921 and is represented simply by a book in the exhibition, is best known today for his seven tomes on anatomy. A 1942 Time magazine article revealed that he kept a pile of wrist and finger bones in his pocket and accepted a dismembered human leg from a friendly taxi driver.5 His resulting books are so exquisitely rendered and so exhaustive that they continue to be vital sources for art students of all skill levels.

LEFT: Fig. 7: J. Alden Weir (1852-1919), Midday Rest in New England, 1897.Oil on canvas 39-5/8 x 50-3/8 in. Gift of Isaac H. Clothier, Edward H. Coates, Dr. Francis W. Lewis, Robert C. Ogden, and Joseph G. Rosengarten RIGHT: Fig. 8: Arthur De Costa (b. 1921-2004), Seven Pears, 1960. Oil on canvas, 9-15/16 x 12-1/16 in. John Lambert Fund.

Fig. 9: Morris Blackburn (1902 1979), Appalachian Spring I, 1946-1947. Oil on canvas, 24-1/2 x 32-1/8 in. Joseph E. Temple Fund. The examination of Arthur De Costa's (1921-2004) contributions (Fig. 8), a more recent faculty member who taught from 1966 until 1988, includes his development of the first alkyd synthetic oil medium, now sold commercially. De Costa's innovation allowed artists to move paint more freely and accurately, the better to replicate Old Master styles. Other faculty members were equally innovative in multiple fields, including Violet Oakley (1874-1961), known as a muralist, illustrator, lecturer, and pacifist, and the trio of Daniel Garber (1880-1958), Morris Blackburn (1902-1979) (Fig. 9), and Roswell Weidner (1911-1999) (Fig. l0), who all excelled not only at painting, but also as printmakers. Blackburn, a student of McCarter, Garber, and Carles, was known particularly for his ingenuous ability to use printmaking techniques to experiment with modernist principals like cubism.

Fig. 10: Roswell Weidner (1911-1999), The County Fair, 1938. Oil on canvas 24-15/16 x 30-3/8 in. John Lambert Fund. The Tradition of Teaching pays special attention to the most under-examined period in the Academy's history, the 1960s and 1970s, a time of tremendous growth both at the Academy and in the narrative of American art history. As mentors and teachers during this time, Jimmy Lueders (1927-1995), Hobson Pittman (1899/90-1972), Morris Blackburn, Arthur de Costa, Seymour Remenick (1923-1999), Robert Beverly Hale (b. 1901), and Ben Kamihira (b. 1925) all cultivated and challenged the rising talents of the next generation of American artists. Robert Beverly Hale's penchant for the dramatic made him beloved as a lecturer. Seymour Remenick (Fig. 11) was unparalleled in his forthrightness and honesty, able to critique the mistakes of his students without being negative. Gury remembers him as having "a style both evocative and seductive, a painting approach that you fell in love with." Ben Kamihira had the masterful ability to help young artists chart an identity and discover what the true nature of being a painter could mean for them.

Fig. 11: Seymour Remenick (1923-1999), Delaware River from Bridge, 1953. Oil on canvas 19-15/16 x 22 in. Gift of Benjamin Bernstein. Arthur De Costa had a particularly strong influence on his students, partly because of his generous and passionate dedication to teaching. De Costa believed vehemently in the superiority of the Old Masters, demonstrating traditional oil techniques in the classroom and inspiring students to legitimize the pursuit of beauty through art at a time when modernism prevailed.6 His choice of attire in the classroom -- coat, tie, and white lab jacket -- have been incorporated into the teaching philosophies of several of his students who today teach at the Academy. A cluster of works by De Costa in the exhibition, showcasing his facility with both the figure and the still life, act also as an homage by the curator, whose obvious respect for his former teacher conveys the essence of the lineal traditions that exist at the Academy. While the influence of the Academy's gifted faculty on twenty-first century art has yet to be discovered, innovation and expansion of the facilities and programs ensures future generations of American artists will have the opportunity to be part of "the lineage." Students receive an education grounded in the fundamentals and access to a critically lauded collection of historically significant artwork and casts. The acclaimed Morris Gallery program provides exposure to cutting-edge artwork, while the Academy's museum exhibition program regularly features canonical artists and themes in American art. Recent renovations to the Samuel M. V. Hamilton Building, resulting in additional gallery spaces, artist studios, and administrative offices, have created a buzz of excitement in the hallowed halls of one of America's oldest and most prestigious art institutions, as has the ,newly approved BFA degree. At the beginning of its third century, the Academy continues to foster a passionate and dedicated community of students and faculty members, capable of harnessing the best academic traditions to new frontiers of American art.

The Tradition of Teaching is on view in the School of the Fine Arts Gallery: Gift of the Women's Board, at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia, until April 13, 2008. For more information call 215.972.7600 or visit www.pafa.org.

Monica Zimmerman is the program coordinator for the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. All images courtesy of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts.

1. Ronald J. Onorato, "Exciting the Efforts of the Artists: Art Instruction at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts," in Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts: Two Hundred Years of Excellence (2005). 2. Sylvia Yount, Cecilia Beaux: American Figure Painter (Los Angeles and Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007). 3. Stephen May, "An Enduring Legacy: The Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, 1805-2005," in Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts: Two Hundred Years of Excellence (2005). 4. Frank Goodyear, "A History of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, 1805-1976," in In this Academy, The Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts 1805-1976 (1976), 12-49. 5. "Bone and Muscle Man," Time (14 September 1942). 6. Patrick Connors, "The Legacy of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts," in American Arts Quarterly 21.1 (Winter 2004). See also Doreen Bolger, "The Education of the American Artist," in In this Academy, 51-74; Cheryl Leibold, "To Assist and Excite: Art Education at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts," in The Unbroken Line: A Suite of Exhibitions Celebrating the Centennial of the Fellowship of the PAFA (1997), 13-17.

Winslow Homer - Graphite, gouache watercolor on paper

Winslow Homer (1836–1910)
Windy Day, Cullercoats, 1881
Graphite and gouache on tan laid paper, 113⁄16 x 20¼ inches
Bequest of Charles Shipman Payson, 1988.55.15

Homer’s sense of bravado, previously restrained in his works by his fondness for irony, is on full display in Windy Day, Cullercoats. The product of the artist’s eighteen-month stay on the North Sea, drawings such as this reflect Homer’s search for authentic experience in everyday life. Impressed by the hearty women of this fishing village in the northeast of England, time and again he captured the strength and capability of these archetypes of traditional female labor. Homer sketched this model from a low angle, creating a dramatic sense of perspective that renders the figure heroic.




















Homer’s refined eye can be seen in how he delineates the arch of the woman’s back, leaning away from the wind just as the mast of the vessel strains against the sail. Her billowing apron demonstrates the force of nature buffeting the fleet heading to sea in the background. With sleeves rolled up and market basket at the hip, Homer’s figure is muscular, capable, and self-contained in the face of a rugged and challenging environment. Homer’s technical genius is revealed not only in his forceful draftsmanship but also in his exquisite use of negative space.

Winslow Homer (1836–1910)

Two Men in a Canoe, 1895
Watercolor on gray laid paper, 14 x 20 inches
Bequest of Charles Shipman Payson, 1988.55.12

Homer’s ability to depict quiescence rivaled his skill at capturing the raw force of nature. Painted on one of Homer’s late visits to Canada, Two Men in a Canoe is a study in subtlety and technique. The artist employs the paper itself to color both water and sky, splitting earth and heaven with deft, minimal brush strokes to create the shore out of misty wash. The canoe’s silent wake and the whip of the fishing line—both rendered in pure white gouache—testify to Homer’s ability to produce watercolors that all but make sound.