The More for Me Miranda Sweeney Artistic Development ARE6693 University of Florida Progression.Graphite pencil. 2001.
Mar 14, 2016
The More for Me Miranda Sweeney
Artistic Development ARE6693 University of Florida
08 Fall
Progression.Graphite pencil. 2001.
My story begins before I even remember it. My family is full of wonderfully creative,
talented people, all of which have played a role in my development. Always encouraging and
always willing to let me explore. Learning to quilt with my grandmother taught me about
patterns and the importance of color and color combinations. My
mother used to paint, not on canvases, but on just about everything
else. She embellished t-shirts, ceramics, and wood cutouts with
wonderfully detailed paintings. I learned how to use a brush in
many different ways and the importance of craftsmanship. My
grandfather was a golfer by gift, but he built clubs and adapted
machines to do what he needed them to do. He had been an
engineer in the military; he was my everything and a huge
influence on my sense of exploration. My summers were spent at
his golf shop. I watched him make clubs, fix and re-fix, then
manipulate his equipment. In comes my uncle, the techy. He put a
Macintosh computer in the office…I played for hours. There was a
graphics program that would allow you to manipulate the swirling,
geometric graphics with a few key strokes, and then freeze and
print the image. I was in heaven. My aunt was always one to
encourage us, and support our creative endeavors. She is cultured
in the arts, and ensured that we had experiences with them at a
young age. She would take us to plays and fine restaurants. She has
a keen sense for design, and taught me how to arrange a room, set
a table, and dress for success. Another aunt, on my father’s side, owned a ceramics shop. It was a
paint-your-own-pottery place where people would come to paint decorative cast ceramic pieces.
This is where I learned about clay, and I have been fascinated by it ever since. Each one of these
individuals has played a significant role in my life and my creative development.
In walks formal education.
In elementary school I remember winning poster contests and banner designs for class
projects. Everything I remember doing in school was representational. Creating banners and
displays with illustrations of dolphins, whales, and endangered species for the environment club
Summer. 2002. Cotton. I made this quilt in a fabrics course during my undergraduate studies. I used one a sewing machine that was more than 30 years old. I felt connected to my grandmother more than I had in a long time. It was her, but it was me at the same time.
I had started. Drawing awareness posters for seatbelt safety and fire safety for poster contests
was also part of my skill set. On my time, I liked to explore lines. I would draw these detailed
swirling line designs into various recognizable shapes and my aunt would copy them so I could
share them with my friends. They were like my own coloring books.
My middle school art courses really opened my eyes to my own talents. I continued the
representational works in school, adding perspective drawings and more technical skills. I don’t
recall my teacher’s name and really only recall one project in my three years of middle school.
We were given the task of creating a mobile with colored wire and flat shapes. In retrospect,
Calder likely inspired the assignment, however, I wasn’t introduced to any artist or art history
references for a while.
High school was it for me.
It is not only where my talent
flourished, it was where people
outside of my family recognized it.
My teacher, Mr. Knight, saw my
ability to replicate just about any
image he put in front of me. After
the first few weeks of my
freshman introductory art class, he
moved me into advanced level
courses, where I stayed for the
remainder of high school. As a
high school student, I learned the
art of imitation. According to
Cannatella (2012), “art education in the form of imitation as representation should be an
important aspect of most art educational programs” (p.100). I received a very traditional form of
art education in high school. We were given the task of finding images that were appealing to us,
and to replicate those images using whatever medium we were most drawn to. This style of
teaching seems ancient to me as an educator now, however, as Cannatella suggests, “the student
Night Bloom. 1998. Prismacolor and acrylic paint. This image was replicated from a photograph in a magazine. I
have always been drawn to the beauty of flowers, and continuously practiced rendering them as realistically as possible.
learns to manipulate his medium in order to explore, discover, create, and reason” (p. 108). For
everything I deem missing from my high school art education, I will say my art teacher provided
opportunities for us to see art outside of our small community. He arranged field trips,
workshops, and organized a trip to Italy after graduation.
I also continued my interest in
technology with art in high school. I became an
intern in the design department of a local carpet
manufacturer, Mannington Commercial. I
learned about design, pattern, color, and about
business. I also learned about getting the
community involved in the arts, as I was
responsible for organizing a monthly art show
for local schools in the showroom of the
company. This is also how I sold my first work.
It was a replica of a painting of a Native
American; a big wig from 3M bought it for one
hundred dollars. I am still not sure how I feel
about it. As Hamblen (1995) notes, “if one
adheres to the mimetic orientation … in
instructional methodologies, one believes that
artistic value is determined by the extent to
which the student is successful in accurately
rendering a representational image or in
expressing an ideal, universal quality” (p.115).
If this is the case, I guess I was a successful artist in high school.
Undergraduate Eye Opening
It didn’t take long for me to recognize everything that had been missing from my high
school art courses. My first official drawing class as an undergrad at the University of Georgia
was the most influential in my decision to become an art educator. My professor was stern,
Unfinished. 1998. Prismacolor. This image is similar to the one I sold. I found and replicated paintings of Native Americans found in an art magazine. I apparently grew bored with the subject matter because I never finished this image and haven’t been interested in anything similar since. I question why I would sign my name to an image that wasn’t really mine to begin with.
sometimes harsh, but always straightforward and honest. He required strict adherence to his
assignments, but also applauding slight deviances. Everything had purpose and reason. I learned
to draw from observation, the importance of composition, and most importantly, I learned that
loved everything about it. Long gone was the art of imitation.
I found that I had a knack for extending myself outside
of the requirements my professors were asking of us.
My projects were often unconventional, and
experimental for me. I felt free to try new techniques,
mediums, and concepts. I explored every genre I could
get into. Once I made it beyond the introductory classes and began my studies in art education, I
made it a point to continue hopping around despite my professors urging to choose a focus. My
philosophy was simple. I was likely going to be
asked to teach a variety of different artistic
subjects, why should I not familiarize myself
with as many as I can. That’s just what I did.
Drawing, painting, printmaking, ceramics,
jewelry, sculpture, graphic design and new
media were all part of my undergraduate art
education. It was a fantastic time of exploration
for me as an artist and as an individual.
Fixative. 2001. Graphite pencil. My first drawing class as an undergraduate taught me to draw from observation, a skill that I had never developed or practiced before. My professor required a border on every page and we had to number every assignment. I took it upon myself to extend outside the borders…he never reprimanded me for it, I think he enjoyed that I wasn’t afraid to do without asking. So I did a lot of things without asking.
Figure. 2002. Charcoal. I had never drawn figures before. I was fascinated in the concentration required and the techniques I was taught to capture the correct proportions. The three-‐hour classes never seemed long enough.
I learned that I love to draw figures, and creating graphic prints with the meditative, repetitive
technique of relief printing. I learned that I love to hand build ceramic pieces and I am terrible at
throwing on the wheel. I learned that I have a very clean, geometric aesthetic quality when I
design jewelry pieces. I learned that installation sculpture means so much more than just putting
pieces in a specific space. I learned that I will never be able to keep up with technology in art but
it sure is fun trying. The most important thing I learned from my undergraduate art education is
that you have never learned enough. There is always more.
The More for Me
Eight months after graduating from UGA I landed my first teaching job at Dacula High
School. A rural school, relatively small compared to the surrounding area, and very similar
feeling to my own high school. I dove in headfirst. I think the introduction of VCAE, Visual
Culture Art Education, in my undergrad programs influenced not only my teaching pedagogy,
but my artistic style as well. I started to pay closer
attention to the visual stimulation that I was
influenced by on a daily basis. I also started
taking pictures. I wanted to teach photography,
but had never been inside a darkroom, so I took a
community class at the Atlanta College of Art.
The course changed my preferred medium of
expression. I started taking pictures, especially of
people. Since my first figure drawing studies and
self-portraits, I’ve been intrigued by people, so I
frame them with my lens, point and shoot. I try to
capture the innocence of children, the wisdom of
the elderly, the love shared by a couple, and all the quirky eccentricities of teenagers. I try not to
let the camera get in the way of expressing who the subject is, or who I am as the photographer.
As a mother of two, full time teacher, and graduate student, I don’t get to practice as an
artist as much as I would like. I enjoy doodling and have used it to create works, sometimes
collaboratively with my students. Let me back up a bit. My best friend became fond of “sugar
skulls” after seeing one in a design on the reality show, Project Runway. I decided to paint her
Anniversary. 2010. Digital photograph. This is a photo of my parents taken for their 25th Anniversary. The photo says so much about who they are as a couple and how they have managed to stay together for 25 years. Laughter is the answer.
one as a gift, and it quickly became a hobby. As a part of this
hobby, I put poster board down on my desk at school, and
when I get a minute or two, I like to doodle. I encourage
students to add to the drawings. The doodles became
illustrations of “sugar skull” characters. I would give the
drawings a personality and a name, and when I finished
them, I would let a lucky student take the drawing home.
Occasionally a student would
help me uncover the personality of the skull through some design advice or insight, and even
coloring parts of the image with me. The students loved to watch the drawing develop and would
constantly ask, “Who’s next?” as far as the personality I would create. The sugar skulls have
filled a void for me, allowing me to create something even with the constraints that keep me
from creating as much as I would like to.
Part of the reason I chose the graduate program at the University of Florida was the
inclusion of studio electives as a requirement. What better way to make time to create than
making it a required part of continuing education? The courses I’ve taken that require creative
projects to correspond with the research have forced me back into making time to do what I love.
My favorite projects have been centered on the influence of visual culture and using art for social
awareness and advocacy. In Duncum (2002), he claims, “linking the world of art with the world
of students is what all good teachers do” (p.7). I think this is true for my practices as an artist and
as an educator. I try to make meaning of the world I live in by trying to capture the essence of the
lives that surround me as well as the external influences on those lives. I try to do the same in my
classroom. Incorporating lessons and projects that force students to be mindful of their
influences, their choices, and the consequences. I allow them to explore, question, and play with
media, technique, and concepts and modeling these behaviors is the best way I know to
encourage them. “Images and artifacts from popular culture’s terrain lie in the everyday and are
invested with meaning and pleasure” (Tavin, 2003, p.198). If I am to teach my students and
Mariposa. 2010. Sharpie marker on poster board. This skull was named with the help of a passing through Spanish teacher. He stopped to look and said “mariposa – it’s Spanish for butterfly” and I knew that it had to be her name. She (the skull) was nicknamed “Mari” because she just so happened to be adopted by a graduating student named Mary.
support their creative development, it is
imperative that I model creative practices in my
classroom. I show my students the work I do for
my classes and talk about the importance of
continuing their education beyond the classroom,
beyond, high school, and even beyond
undergraduate degrees. I sit with them and draw
or doodle while we discuss their current projects
or what they did over the weekend; I question
their decisions and urge them to question their
influences. I implore them to speak up and speak
out about issues that concern them with their art
and their voices. The more for me is found when
I’m creating for a cause, for a purpose, and when I
see my students doing the same.
Nothing Fits. 2011. Acrylic paint, magazine images. This project was tough because it made me think about how I let visual culture influence my own body image and self worth. The image is a life-‐size self-‐portrait outlined by images filling the difference in space of my actual size and how I perceive my size. The title is reflective of what I constantly hear myself say and how I don’t fit into society’s image of beauty.
References
Cannatella, H. (2012). What it is and that it is. Journal of Aesthetic Education, 46(2), 100-110.
Duncum, P. (2002). Back to the future:[Re][De]fining art education. Art Education, 55(3), 6-11.
Tavin, K. (2003). Wrestling with angels, searching for ghosts: Toward a critical pedagogy of
visual culture. Studies in Art Education, 44(3). 197-213.