Courage and Critique

There's a thing I tell each and every student on their first class in my studio. If you ask me for my opinion of your piece, that's easy - your work is beautiful and amazing, and so are you.

Most people think I'm kidding. Or that I'm doing some sort of flattery-encouragement sales technique to keep them coming back no matter what they're producing. But they're wrong; I genuinely believe each and every piece one of my students make is beautiful and amazing, if only for the courage involved in being here to make it.

Picking up a new artistic hobby as an adult is hard. We're trained from an early age to believe that anything we don't do well, don't get a tangible return from, or don't have a "talent" for is a waste of time. Thanks to social media, our friends and family, coworkers, total strangers - our earliest pieces will be seen and shared, and if there's one thing the modern connected world has taught us it's that casual cruelty and mean-spirited criticism are everywhere.

So for my students to be here, making things, they first have to be willing to defy that training. To be willing to be new and even bad at something, just to try and create things and see what they can learn. That takes courage. The worst pot any student could ever make is a powerful statement just in their choice to create it, and I will acknowledge that. Plus, once you set yourself to find the positives, they're easy to find and highlight. I will find them, highlight them, and celebrate them with my students. It doesn't matter what might be good or bad or strange - we're going to cultivate and encourage the strengths and bravery required to keep making those pieces.

But that's not the only question a student can ask. Suppose they don't want my opinion on their piece - they want to know how to improve their skills. How to take what they've made and make the next one better. For that, they need to ask for critique.

This is different from my opinion. I can love and see the beauty and courage in a piece, and also point out the place where the rim is 1/2" taller than the rest of the bowl. I won't be mean, but it still takes courage to ask for critique, and more courage to put in the work to act on it.

Running Glass & Stone Pottery Studio is one of the best things I've ever done. That's partly because of the beautiful things people make, partly the joy of teaching and sharing this wonderful art, partly the satisfaction of making tangible things in the world. But mostly, it's the ongoing experience of watching people with courage.