Regular readers of the Creativepool blog will know that, although I am no artist, I like nothing more than to spend several hours at an exhibition, having a good moan. True, I don't need to be in an exhibition to do that; Ed Reardon lives – he's 42 and lives in Saffron Walden. But broadly, I am interested in art, I admire art, and I also have contempt for art that, in my humble (and ostensibly slightly self-important) opinion, could have been done by a five-year-old.
So yesterday I went to the final day of the Royal Academy's Summer Exhibition (in the company of a fantastic artist, I might add). Each year we go there with an equal sense of eagerness and dread. In the same way that a 25-stone armchair football pundit might bemoan England's early exit from the World Cup, I enter the RA with my possibly ill-advised preconceptions of what 'art' is and wander around calling stuff 'genius' and 'cack' in equal measure.
Over the past few weeks and months in the CP magazine, I have ground my well-worn axe talking about why copywriting isn't quite as easy as some people seem to think it is. Owning a keyboard and having a pair of hands aren't the only two requirements you need for the job. Like I said, if you think you might be good at it, do have a go. I'm not stopping you. But if you're a manager without the right skillset and you're having a go to save money, then I suggest you book a holiday for when the sales figures land on your boss's desk.
My point is that being a successful copywriter is very, very hard to fake; you won't be successful unless you're talented. And sales figures don't lie. But walking around the Summer Exhibition, I can't make the same conclusion.
It seems to me that it is absurdly easy to fake being an artist.
Now, hold on, HOOOOOLD on there, outraged Creativepooler! I don't mean YOU. To tar all artists with the same brush (ho, ho) would not only be ill-advised and possibly dangerous to my personal safety, it would also be wrong. When I look at profiles of Creativepoolers and I see the design and illustration work they come up with, I am very often gobsmacked at how sensationally good it is. So this leads me to a conclusion. Or, more accurately, a point of argument I'd like you to consider and feed back on:
If you're a designer and you're creating something to a corporate brief, you can't fake your imagination or your artistic talent (if you want to get paid, that is). But if you're lucky enough to be an artist and, say, you err towards the abstract, who can say that what you're doing is any good? At the Summer Exhibition – in between the masterpieces and the results of vibrant imaginations – I came across work after work that made me look like a bulldog chewing a wasp. For instance, a solid block of colour with a few daubs slashed across it. Don't insult my intelligence by telling me that I didn't understand it; that's a massive cop-out. It takes no talent AT ALL to paint a canvas two shades of grey.
'Ah, but it's the message and the thought behind it,' say the artists and their supporters. Again, don't insult my intelligence. It is entirely possible to make up a pretentiously loquacious reason and back-story for a load of spilled paint. (In fact, coincidentally, that's a good test of copywriting skills right there.) I might as well come up with a new strapline for Marks & Spencer that says 'Fwarp. Bungwoodpen Gloshkins.” It means nothing.
But just in case:
Fwarp. Bungwoodpen Gloshkins. © Ashley Morrison 2014
So, what do you think? Do you agree or am I talking Jackson Pollocks? See you next year at the RA's Summer Exhibition. I'll be the one with the sneery face to rival Brian Sewell's.
Ashley is a copywriter, editor and blogger
Francis August 21st, 2014, in the morning
Smart thinking, Ashley.Some of the "work" one sees these days (and not necessarily at the RA show) does make me wonder. It reminds me that, if you're going to be a successful copywriter – or art director/designer, for that matter – your "work" has to be comprehensible to your audience without you being there to explain it. Not so with some "art". Some of it makes no sense unless its creator is there to tell you what they're trying to say. So creating it is a bit like writing a sales letter in German and asking an African bushman to understand it. Chances are, he'll give you a blank look. And he sure as hell won't buy your Audi!
PS: I enjoyed your Albert Hall gig on Radio 3, though it was a little difficult to pick out your voice!