Professionalism

Some years ago, I took a workshop on small business accounting. After learning the basics, I figured out some of the more complicated aspects on my own. I've improved over time and am pleased to report that I keep my own books and manage my family's finances and annual tax preparation. With that one little workshop and a lot of practice, I have earned the right to do my own books. However, that does not give me the right to teach other people how to keep their own books. That right is reserved for professionals. Those professionals have an association to which they are responsible. This ensures that only qualified teachers are out there, teaching correct foundation skills and offering their guidance where needed. Now, how do we convince artists of the same thing? Why are there completely untrained and unqualified people out there giving art courses and workshops? It's because artists do not have a professional organization to which they are responsible. If we did, they would come knocking on said artist's doors and say "sorry, without some level of qualification, you cannot teach others in this industry." I suppose there are always exceptions, artists who are brilliant teachers and have not a stick of art education. But overall, there is a sadly abundant array of people throwing their hat into the teaching ring who have no business being there. It contributes to mediocrity, and it certainly doesn't serve to elevate the status of professional artists in this country.

The View From Here

What do you get when you ask a bunch of visual artists to go to the same area and paint the landscape? At SAGA, you get 35 artists with 40 different views. This exhibition, "Paint Paradise: Views of the Salmon River Delta," is wonderful not just because it is a fine collection of excellent works, but because it drives home the point that we are all so amazingly unique in our perceptions. Micro, macro, highly realistic to the madly abstract, the art speaks to us about this extraordinary ecosystem. On opening night Louis Thomas, a Neskonlith elder, spoke about growing up on the delta; skating on the little ponds that formed in winter and playing in the tall grasses in summer. It made us all fall back into our own connective memories of those special natural places. Growing up, who didn't have their own place in the wild, a twisted tree to climb, a river with a secret pool for swimming? Can we not reflect upon our own paradises, and realize that we must protect those same kinds of places for our children and grandchildren? It's easy to wander around the gallery and gaze upon beautiful images, but I'm hoping people will take an extra step this time - out to the delta, to the tall grasses and tiny skating ponds.