Teachers, Mentors and Guides Pt.1

Human beings have many ways of dividing people into contrasting groups. Introvert and extravert. Single or coupled. Vegetarian and meat-eater etc. Obviously, dualistic categories simplify the complexity of our existence and fail to consider variations of range and degree– shades of grey within black and white. Few of us are rarely completely one or the other. Introverts do venture out for social engagements as much as extraverts welcome time to themselves once in a while. Some vegetarians still eat fish and eggs. Yet most of us are inclined towards one end of a spectrum more than the other and life usually provides enough opportunities to balance an excessive dependence on one mode, or to challenge a comfort zone.
The roles of student and teacher are not mutually exclusive but distinguish between those who seek knowledge, skills or learning, and others who are able to provide it. Cultures, traditions and practices have established systems for the trajectory of an education. Tests, examinations, or rituals determine when a candidate has acquired ranks and grades of competence, or passed through a particular experience to reach levels of teaching ability themselves. Many of these are conventional schools or institutions of development. Certificates, diplomas, and degrees confirm that individuals have spent requisite study in their field and are now qualified enough to impart what they have learned to others or to receive monies for their services.
Most artists have attended some school or apprenticed under a more experienced artist. But no matter what the training or lack thereof, every artist encounters mentors, teachers and guides who will influence and motivate their goals, whether they were chosen to do so or not. For me, what’s best about formal training is the foundation it offers to begin one’s own projects or a source of reference for inclusion or omission in any creative decision. However, I admire and envy self-taught artists who developed their own craft by just staring and absorbing what it was about work they loved. I was only able to do that after guidance and supervision. Indeed, diverse methods of instruction as well as exposure to different kinds of artists were equally important to what was being taught in any curriculum.
The teachers who taught art in all the schools I attended provided examples in abundance, including those who were not my instructors. During high school, there were four individuals distinct from each other. Mr. Sherman was a small fussy man who came across more like a historian or archivist rather than artist. It wasn’t helped by the perpetual grey suits he wore. But despite a tendency for inducing torpor, he knew his stuff. From him I learned: Artist as gatherer of information. Mrs. Reagan was personable and charming. She became pregnant in my 3rd year of high school. I remember her climbing up on two chairs and straddling them to hang artwork. I was helping her at the time and became alarmed due to her condition. She smiled and reassured me it was okay and that people fuss too much over pregnant women. She was encouraging, supportive and diplomatic in class. From her I saw: Artist as a decent person. Two other teachers I never had were Miss Holt and Mrs. Kondo. Miss Holt was young, had short blonde hair and a husky voice. She moved through basement halls where the art rooms were located, dressed in patterned sweaters, dark slacks and floor length knitted vests. I loved the way her vests rippled when she walked. She was also one of the very few teachers who wore perfume and left scent trails of citrus and spice: Artist with style.
Mrs. Kondo was a short, lively Japanese woman who always reminded me of a grandmother even though she probably wasn’t that old at the time. From what I gathered, she was the most popular art teacher. Warm, sharp and funny, she was relaxed and engaged with her pupils in ways I surmised the other teachers weren’t. Her ability to relate to anyone was such that my girlfriend actually invited her to a pajama party which she tactfully declined. (Good thing too– the cats walked over everybody like we weren’t even there). She personified: Artist as everywoman.
Things would change considerably once I entered art school. The student/teacher dichotomy became both more relaxed and intense. The word “teacher” was replaced by “instructor” but the variety of individuals and their personal methods of dispensing knowledge and experience created some of the most lasting impressions.  

– to be continued