photos by Rachel Call
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| photo by Rachel Call |
This one time, being today obviously, i spoke at my college's convocation ceremony. I felt pretty cool just being asked to do so, you might not know this, but i like public speaking. Oh and this is my second time walking (i walked in April before I knew they wanted me to speak in August) and I don't actually get my diploma until December, a whole two credits of internship are holding me back...
After two meetings with Paul, two lunch meetings and three regular type with Val, one review from the committee, a handful of revisions, a dress rehearsal, and about twenty hours of my time, here is my five minute speech in its entirety. I had the images appearing on the screen as i talked so this obviously isn't as cool. (If you select one photo it will display all of them in a slideshow way at the bottom of your screen, that way you can see them larger--as you should.)
Fine Arts & Communications Convocation
Brigham Young University
August 10th, 2012
I always knew that I wanted to be an artist when I grew up. In the beginning the medium wasn’t important, I bounced between oil paints, crayons, fabric, clay and when my mother would permit, I would commandeer the family camera and take the allotted three photos. Back then, in my eyes, it only took 3 things to mean I was an artist and therefore bound for fame and glory:
1. My work had to be hung for all to see
2. It had to receive
praise from the most prestigious source
3. It had to produce
an income.
Being an artist was easy at
age 5. I would line the walls of our home with my one-of-a-kind creations and
charge my family admission to the “museum.” I even convinced my mom to purchase
one of my finer pieces, 'The Girl Turkey Mermaid,' when I threatened to rip it in
half if it wasn’t procured. With that purchase I knew I had hit the big time,
the most prestigious people in my life, my parents, had not only made my work
profitable but had given my work praise. It didn’t occur to me then that
almost every kid in the nation had access to a 64 pack of crayons, parents that
thought they were the cat’s pajamas, and the complete work of Dr. Seuss to
borrow ideas from.
Though it has always been
popular for children to gravitate towards the arts because of the creative
nature and bold colors, these days it’s become increasingly more popular to use
the same motives to claim one’s self as an artist in adulthood. Hipsters are
cleaning out thrift stores of antique cameras and every smart phone user can access
Instagram, the largest photo sharing social
media app in the world. Some of us might have gotten into the arts for these
hip reasons or to be an ‘individual’ but, it doesn’t really matter what got us
here, just that we found a reason—within each of us—to stick out the long days
and sleepless nightsto create, print, and frame our work.
With my weak argument about
what it took to be an artist as a child, it is no surprise that it took me
years in the program to finally understand my own need for art. In the beginning
I stressed completing assignments with the correct methods and techniques. The
ability to release the shutter at the correct moment wasn’t making me an
artist; my work lacked a personal voice and motive. It
wasn’t until I decided that I wanted to spend my last full year of school
devoted to a personal project that I rediscovered the love for photography that
I had gained as a thirteen year old when I spent every penny I had on my first camera. In 8 months I traveled to all 9
of my siblings’ homes to photograph them. I took over 7,000 images ranging from
potty training their children, to carefree motorcycle rides, to giving birth,
to Thanksgiving dinner. This project reminded me that I became a photographer
to capture the moments in life that are ordinary but show personalities and
evoke memories. Part of my artist
statement for that show read, “Most photographers spend more time working for
clients than documenting the people and moments that mean most to them. To
photographically neglect my family would be the greatest failure of my career.”
In one of my favorite books
about creating art, Art & Fear, the authors, Bayles & Orland explain,
“The desire to make art begins early. For some the desire persists, and sooner
or later must be addressed. And with good reason: your desire to make art
beautiful or meaningful or emotive art-is integral to your sense of who you
are. Life and Art, once entwined, can quickly become inseparable; at age ninety
Frank Lloyd Wright was still designing, Imogen Cunningham still photographing, Stravinsky
still composing, Picasso still painting.”
Like me, the desire to create
art persisted in my fellow classmates. The following images exemplify how they
were able to push through the creative process and find their own voice.
Having a career in
photography means that we are competent enough at our medium to create an image
for a client as they envisioned it, but being a photographer means that we
spend our time—between jobs—working on the images that will sustain us as an
artists and humans. One of our professors, Paul Adams, constantly says “if you
can imagine yourself doing anything else, get out of photography now and do
that thing instead.” He understands that being
an artist isn’t a career choice; it’s who we are. There is a quote that we keep hung in the dark room that
further illiterates this point “Artist don’t get down to work until the pain of
working is exceeded by the pain of not working.”
Thank you.