Michelle+Fava+Article+Two

When we see a drawing, we make an immediate judgement. We decide whether it’s worth a second glance, what it might be telling us and whether we like it. These judgements are fast, intuitive, emotional, complex and unstated. That we make these snap judgements points to an unconscious process of analysis and evaluation, with idiosyncratic, undeclared criteria. Those judgements aren’t static, or permanent but we judge a drawing’s quality before we can articulate why. Indeed, any explanation will fall short; never quite doing justice to the richness of our intuitive grasp of the quality we seek. Our explanations may even be unwittingly fabricated, post-rationalisations of why we felt the way we did when we first saw the drawing. It is only when a consensus is needed that we must elucidate our criteria. A collective judgement is necessarily explicit, wordy and likely incomplete. When the purpose of a drawing is clear – to ideate, to present structural information, to convey a design concept – its quality can be defined by how well it performs its function. In a fine art context, any definition of quality (or indeed of drawing) would necessarily provoke rebellion. Perhaps this is an important function of the exercise of defining ‘good drawing’ : to continually and cyclically define, challenge and redefine. There are a few situations where drawing is explicitly judged, for example in curatorial or educational contexts. I will argue that, in arts education, what makes a good drawing need not be defined. There is a distinction to be made here between other people’s drawings and our own. We judge our own drawings even as we make them. An intuitive process which guides us incrementally towards what becomes our practice. Despite this tacit knowing, when pushed, most artists will resist defining the quality they strive for, likely giving a different account each time they are asked. Students often judge their own drawings harshly, as anyone who teaches drawing can testify, sometimes rejecting them after only a few marks have been made. Sometimes (more and more frequently) even fearing to make the first mark. Why is this? In my own observations of artists drawing, it seems they evaluate periodically during the process. However, this only appears to be happening part of the time. Another phase of drawing involves an absence of judgement: periods during which the drawer simply draws, postponing the moment of judgement to a later pause in drawing activity. This is likely because the process of judgement impedes the drawing act. Judgement and perception compete for cognitive resources. A judgemental thought taking place as the pencil meets the paper leads to an uncertainty, which is in turn imbued in the quality of line. A premature evaluation, if you will, caused by a performance anxiety. In myown judgement, this becomes a poor drawing. Similarly, a forced, over- confident line is equally unsatisfactory. The line I seek is free of judgement, at least in the moment of its conception. I believe this performance anxiety can be connected with students’ experiences of assessment procedures. Cumulative experiences engender an awareness that one ' s work will be judged by someone else, against often ambiguous criteria. This awareness can also lead to a shift in the intuitive judgement processes. The danger here is that the student’s aims shift towards the short term goal of achieving highly at assessment, their intuitive judgements becoming concerned with the anticipated judgement of others, rather than with their own developing sense of purpose. The question of defining quality is of central importance in academia as, over time, our definitions come to shape our institutions, and the students and work produced by them. To illustrate this I would like to draw an analogy with the peacock. Over generations the male peacock’s tail has become increasingly large, spectacular, predator - enticing and unwieldy. This is due entirely to the aesthetic preferences of the female peacock. Over time, the process and criteria for judgement come to shape that which is judged. I would like to posit, that within the academic arena, universities and the institutions that monitor and assess them, play the role of the female peacock. As such, they should be suitably careful with their measures and definitions of quality. The critical faculty for independently defining and pursuing purposeful work is (arguably) the cornerstone of an arts education. I therefore argue that the responsibility of defining ‘good drawing’ be de-centred, from lecturer or institution towards the student, with a more dialogical and fluid set of criteria.
 * What makes a good drawing? By Michelle Fava (2012)**