I was talking with a student the other day about the amount of time they spent on a recent painting. The conversation brought to mind one of my favorite exchanges between an artist and a critic.
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After taking all of two days to paint the moody \u201cNocturne in Black and Gold,\u201d American painter James Abbott McNeill Whistler set the price for his painting at a whopping 200 guineas when exhibiting it at Grosvenor Gallery in London. This was an exorbitant price in 1877\u2014 200 guineas is the modern-day equivalent to asking \u00a318,790.00 (or $24,838 USD).
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When art critic John Ruskin saw the price, he was skeptical. \u201cThe Whistler\u2019s response is the stuff of legend. He looked Ruskin squarely in the eye and answered, \u201cNo. I ask it for the knowledge of a lifetime.\u201d (Source<\/a>) Artists and students can relate to this story because \u201cHow long did that take you?\u201d is a question we get a lot. Many people assume, just like Ruskin did, that the more time invested in a drawing or painting, the more impressive\u2014 and therefore valuable\u2014 it must be. While we can admire Whistler\u2019s snappy comeback, his exchange with Ruskin raises an important question: How long does it take to \u201cget good\u201d at drawing and painting? It\u2019s a fair question to ask. After all, if you\u2019re going to invest your time and money into your art education, you want to know when you\u2019ll start seeing results. But it\u2019s also tough to answer because there\u2019s a big difference between \u201clearning how\u201d and \u201cgetting good.\u201d Back when I was a student, I remember feeling discouraged about my \u201cbad\u201d artwork. At the time, I thought the problem was that I just didn\u2019t know enough. I thought that the quality of my drawings would improve rather quickly if I could just find someone to show me the steps that I was missing. That was partly right. I did<\/em><\/strong> have a lot to learn, and I went to great lengths to find the kind of instruction that I thought would help me. But, after years of study, I realized the truth is a bit more complicated. It\u2019s not as simple as mastering a checklist of steps. Yes, I learned a lot about both drawing and painting as a student. And yes, I had emerged from school with more self-confidence than I had going in. But I couldn\u2019t say I was actually good<\/em> at drawing or painting just yet. That\u2019s because \u201cknowing\u201d what to do isn\u2019t even half of the battle. The most important part of getting good at drawing, painting, or any other skill, is practice.<\/strong> I\u2019m not telling you something you haven\u2019t heard before. For example, you already \u201cknow\u201d how to play the piano. Just hit the right keys at the right time, and you can play music. Simple, right? But, of course, actually playing well is more complicated than that. Getting to be any good at it requires lots of practice. This is one respect in which visual art (especially realism) is often misunderstood. We all know that certain life goals, like learning an instrument, mastering a new language, or getting in shape, take slow, deliberate work over time. But we tend not to think of drawing in the same way.<\/p> Instead, we buy into the myth that people who are good at drawing were born that way. We think that being able to draw well is proof that the person is talented. But that\u2019s not really true. Drawing well is a skill that can be learned. But, like playing the piano or learning a second language, it doesn\u2019t come easily. If practice is necessary, then what kind of practice do you need and how much? In his book Outliers: The Story of Success<\/em>, Malcolm Gladwell popularized the idea that, in order to master anything, you\u2019ll need to invest in 10,000 hours of practice. This equates to approximately five years\u2019 worth of full-time effort. I think this idea is a good place to start when thinking about learning to draw. It effectively conveys the scope of the undertaking when you set out to master something difficult. But on its own, the 10,000 hours concept leaves some important questions unanswered. Critics of the idea have offered alternative ways of thinking about the 10,000 hour rule that I think are helpful. These include: When learning to draw well, be prepared for the possibility that it may take you longer than someone else to get where you\u2019re going. And that\u2019s entirely OK.<\/p>\n<\/li>\n I agree with this in principle. Practice isn\u2019t the same thing as mindless repetition. If your efforts start to feel pointlessly repetitive, by all means, try something different like testing out new materials or drawing a different subject. Just beware that it doesn\u2019t lead to distraction or \u201cprocess anxiety\u201d.<\/a><\/p>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul> While these critics claim triumphantly to have invalidated Gladwell\u2019s premise with these observations, I still think the 10,000 hour rule is a useful concept. After all, nobody (including Gladwell) endorses mindless repetition as an effective learning strategy or suggests that everyone progresses at the same rate, without exception. The 10,000 hour rule remains worthwhile because it makes clear a simple idea: Mastering a skill takes time and hard work.<\/strong> There are three important truths to keep in mind when practicing to develop a skill over time:<\/strong> 1. Everyone is different<\/p> 2. No matter how much you practice, you still need guidance and feedback<\/p> 3. Progress is relative\u2014 What may take me the whole summer to learn more only take you a few weekends. 10,000 is a nice round number, but it\u2019s also arbitrary. In truth, different people will require different amounts of practice to see improvement. As I mentioned earlier, two master chess players may enjoy the same ranking but have invested different amounts of time. In the above example, the difference was almost 15,000 hours! That sounds about right to me because we\u2019ve seen it at the studio. Some drawing students seem to \u201cget it\u201d right away and pick up skills and concepts relatively quickly. For others, the drawing process takes more time. I think this is where the idea of \u201ctalent\u201d comes from, but it\u2019s not natural ability. It\u2019s just a predisposition to absorb and apply a certain type of information. But rest assured: Nobody is born a master, and nobody \u201cgets good\u201d overnight. Remember the difference between \u201cknowledge\u201d and \u201cability?\u201d Knowing how to do something is not a substitute for practice. But the reverse is also true: No amount of practice will help if you don\u2019t know what to work on.<\/p>
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<\/p>Knowledge Vs. Ability<\/h2>
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<\/p>10,000 Hours?<\/h2>
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<\/p>Everyone is Different<\/h2>
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<\/p>You Still Need Guidance<\/h2>
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