I've heard Metcalf do his famous "wait tables" speech. (Advice:
wait tables rather than do a grunt bench monkey job. Save what
energy you've got for important art.)
Regarding Metcalf, I guess I went the other way. Worked at the bench
in jewelry stores and trade shops, shot waxes, cast, finished, sized
and set 8-10 hours a day. Then went home and worked in my studio at
nights and on weekends. Steeped myself in it. Did this for years. I
also worked at a kiosk in a mall buying gold and silver and worked
for a pair of dentists in their officebuilding crowns and bridges.
I saw all this as an education that allowed me to amass enough
technical and experience to make the work that I knew I
wanted to make.
I always hoped that what I wanted to make would sell. But above all,
I wanted to make what I considered to be good work. Work that meant
something to me. I still do. Now, more than ever. (That’s why you
sometimes have to make something twice, even though the client isn’t
paying for that.) I tried making production work and sold enough but
I knew that the production route was not the one I wanted to take.
Neither was the bench route.
Somehow, very early on, the idea of making custom and commission
work seemedlike an obvious and effective way to generate income, a
way that seemed to agree with my personality. That was about making
what a client envisioned in the best way that I could.
But I also knew that would not be enough. I needed to do repairs,
maybe a little production, some lower end one of a kind and some
exhibition work that was less influenced by the market (I also
understood that we are never free from the influence of the
marketplace, whether you define it as the buying public or the
judgement of your peers.) But at some point it became clear that I
really needed to keep the idea of sales out of some of what I make.
Because the choices that I was making were too influenced by it. I
also knew that if I could free myself (as much as I could) from the
sales constraint in that work, I could discover ideas and new
directions that could be adapted towork that was more apt or
designed to sell.
I still work in all those areas and I talk about it when I teach.
(Again, John, I am not a professor.) That mix— the pie-- is how I
support myself and also how I keep it fresh.
I often talk with college metal students. Just got back from
visiting at North Texas University, in fact. I try to be as honest
as I can be with them. Sometimes brutally so. They need the reality.
But they don’t need to have their spirit quashed.
One more thing: I know a lot of professors. And again, I am not one
myself. Some are, indeed, arrogant, opinionated and aloof. As are
some of the bench jeweler’s that I have worked with. Some from
either side of the fence are dismissive of anything from the other
side.
But many college and university teachers are open to all sides of
the profession and feel a real responsibility to inform their
students about what the field has to offer.
But they also feel it is important for students to develop their
ideas and their voice during these years spent in school.
People make jewelry and metal work for a lot of reasons. Some even
think it’s art.
Take care,
Andy