Ted Orland
Author of Art & Fear: Observations On the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking
Works by Ted Orland
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Canonical name
- Orland, Ted
- Birthdate
- 1941
- Gender
- male
- Occupations
- teacher
artist
photographer - Organizations
- University of California Extension
Ansel Adams Gallery
Nancy Hirsch Associates, Santa Barbara, California - Awards and honors
- National Park Service Artist in Residency (Yosmite) (1981)
Certificate of Special Recognition from the United States Congress (conservation work for Mono Lake) - Short biography
- Ted Orland began his professional career working as a young graphic artist for designer Charles Eames, and later served as Assistant to photographer Ansel Adams. Ted currently lives in Santa Cruz CA, where he pursues parallel careers in teaching, writing and photography. He is co-author (with David Bayles) of the best-selling artists' survival guide, "Art & Fear", and author of its recent companion piece, "The View From the Studio Door". He also leads workshops on a variety of artistic issues and photographic topics. Ted's own fine art photography is represented by The Ansel Adams Gallery.
- Nationality
- USA
- Places of residence
- Santa Cruz, California, USA
- Associated Place (for map)
- California, USA
Members
Reviews
It started out pretty good. But then you hit chapter VIII (Conceptual Worlds) and the authors start into sophistric contortions trying to definite art in such a way as to exclude and denigrate what they consider lesser: crafts, and creative works notable for skillful execution without any sufficiently intellectual concept behind them.
They also really don't seem to have any understanding of the creative drive to make something. Which is baffling. And they seem to think there is a limit to show more what an artist can learn about their medium. They use this as a way to dismiss craft, as if craftspeople are just trained monkeys repeating a stale technique. Like technique is finite and only ever learned from more experienced artists. My Brother In Christ, if you love your medium you will discover things no one could have taught you. But maybe you can teach to others. :)
The first part was decent, but later chapters were so toxic they spoiled it. show less
They also really don't seem to have any understanding of the creative drive to make something. Which is baffling. And they seem to think there is a limit to show more what an artist can learn about their medium. They use this as a way to dismiss craft, as if craftspeople are just trained monkeys repeating a stale technique. Like technique is finite and only ever learned from more experienced artists. My Brother In Christ, if you love your medium you will discover things no one could have taught you. But maybe you can teach to others. :)
The first part was decent, but later chapters were so toxic they spoiled it. show less
A must read for every artist and art appreciator/viewer, because "we all get hung up" soon or later on the philosophical and psychological What is art? What was (is) the artist trying to say? How do artists persevere in a world that is obsessed with art fashion? aspects.
Two of my favourite quotes will serve as displays of the intriguing writing style that so captivated me:
With respect to Academia: wherein most prominent graduate students describe themselves as survivors of their formal show more education: "The thought of working in the art education system ~ either as student or faculty ~ is about as attractive as standing beneath a steady drizzle of dead cats." (p. 80). (Note: any grad student surviving long enough to achieve their degree would probably agree with this).
And:
In reference to artists' worries about funding and achieving solo exhibitions (when straying too far from the innocuous norm), "the American Revolution was not financed by grants from the Crown" (p.68). Perhaps that observation was meant you weren't supposed to be intimidated by societal acceptance, and the authors do go on to suggest strategies for survival.
Aside from some amusing writing, I found the philosophy encouraging and reassuring. Whether you write music, dance, paint or sculpt, there was a feeling of camaraderie and understanding here that I've never encountered elsewhere. show less
Two of my favourite quotes will serve as displays of the intriguing writing style that so captivated me:
With respect to Academia: wherein most prominent graduate students describe themselves as survivors of their formal show more education: "The thought of working in the art education system ~ either as student or faculty ~ is about as attractive as standing beneath a steady drizzle of dead cats." (p. 80). (Note: any grad student surviving long enough to achieve their degree would probably agree with this).
And:
In reference to artists' worries about funding and achieving solo exhibitions (when straying too far from the innocuous norm), "the American Revolution was not financed by grants from the Crown" (p.68). Perhaps that observation was meant you weren't supposed to be intimidated by societal acceptance, and the authors do go on to suggest strategies for survival.
Aside from some amusing writing, I found the philosophy encouraging and reassuring. Whether you write music, dance, paint or sculpt, there was a feeling of camaraderie and understanding here that I've never encountered elsewhere. show less
It's not often I find a book that truly reflects what I myself have witnessed and thought for so many years. Art & Fear puts into words all of the struggles we as artists go through every single day we create. I cannot stress enough how happy I am that it also puts such emphasis on the one true threat to our creativity: Quitting. I've been an artist for 15 years, and yet this book still provides insights and new viewpoints on the creative process. No matter where you stand in your creative show more journey I highly encourage giving it a read. show less
Years before Malcolm Gladwell built a wonderfully compelling case for the critical importance of practice and opportunity in "Outliers: The Story of Success," David Bayles and Ted Orland spent seven years producing their thin, lean, and absolutely inspiring work on how we can develop our own creative artistry through faith and perseverance. "You make good work by (among other things) making lots of work that isn't very good, and gradually weeding out the parts that aren’t good, the parts show more that aren't yours" (p. 26) they write, and in the process do us all a favor by reminding us that creativity flourishes through what we learn from failure as much as from what we learn through success. We're working with the basics here, as we can see from chapter headings including "Fears About Yourself," "Fears About Others," and "Finding Your Work." The writers address the perils of trying to create work that pleases others rather than work that begins by pleasing ourselves--a theme of interest to anyone involved in creative endeavors, including any trainer-teacher-learner. They remind us that if we teach, we also need to set aside time for pursuing our craft--a warning that applies equally to trainers who may not make the time to continue pursuing the learning opportunities that they need to be effective. They conclude by suggesting that making art "is to sing with the human voice" and that if we are to persevere, we would do well to begin by developing our own unique voices and using those voices to explore our darkest chasms to produce the "revealing light" of our own minds" (p. 117). show less
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Statistics
- Works
- 8
- Members
- 2,107
- Popularity
- #12,218
- Rating
- 4.0
- Reviews
- 42
- ISBNs
- 17
- Languages
- 1