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Midlife Art Students Are Inspiring, but Challenging, to Teach

May 18, 2011, 4:43 pm

"A Growing Tendency," 2009, charcoal, 76x42", is by Brad Guarino, a former biochemist who studied, and now teaches, art. (Image at Guarino's Web site)

By Daniel Grant

A fairly typical art-school question: Lynda Michaud Cutrell, a fifth-year student at the School of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, sought help in mixing the right colors for her painting. A less typical question in art school: Some of Cutrell’s teachers sought her help managing their 401(k)s.

“A number of them wanted to show me their investment portfolios,” she said. “Someone asked me, ‘Should I stay with Merrill Lynch?’ It’s kind of cool and kind of weird.”

Cutrell’s entire presence at the art school is cool and weird. For 25 years, after receiving her M.B.A. from Suffolk University, she worked in a number of  advanced sales and marketing positions, including at Fidelity Investments (manager), State Street Corp. (vice president), and Thomson Financial (senior vice president), before quitting in 2005 to go to art school. “Here I am, a 50-year-old person surrounded by people less than half my age who had more skills than me.”

Unlike most of her classmates, money wasn’t an issue. Cutrell had earned enough on Wall Street to hold her comfortably (by her calculations) for 35 years, although she was well aware that “I will never earn in my life as an artist as much as I would have if I had worked just one more year on Wall Street.”

Vanity? Second childhood?

“Art is something I wanted to do early on,” Cutrell said, “but I was a single mom, so I put my art away and went to business school.” Plenty of other people with an interest in art take continuing-education classes, and Boston’s museum school offers those, “but I wanted the whole nut,” she said.

Efrain Cerrato, who is in his last year of a bachelor-of-fine-arts program at the Laguna College of Art & Design, worked 18 years as a personal-fitness trainer before becoming a full-time art student, while Brad Guarino was a biochemist for a dozen years before chucking that to study painting at Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts in Connecticut (he is now a member of the art faculty at the University of Connecticut).

Morgan Walker's "Entry of Hebe into Roseburg" (Hotel Max, Seattle). Image from Walker's Web site.

Morgan Walker earned a law degree and worked as an in-house lawyer for a restaurant chain before deciding that “law just wasn’t right for me. I always wanted to be an artist.” He returned to school in 1993, earned a B.F.A., then an M.F.A., and now teaches painting and art history at Pacific Northwest College of Art, in Portland, Ore. Another M.B.A., Lesa Chittenden Lim, left Honeywell  Inc., were she had worked for 20 years, most recently as president and general manager, to earn an art degree at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, in Philadelphia. In 2007, her total compensation amounted to $453,682; if she adds up all the sales of her photographs, prints, and paintings in 2010, she grossed about $30,000. Obviously, “money wasn’t the driver,” she said. “I had done well in the corporate world, but I loved art and wanted to make a go of it.”

*

So far, an inspirational story—second chances at happiness in life. But older, second-career artists and “nontraditional” students pose challenges for art schools and the commercial art world that are not easy to overcome. Everyone loves the exciting young talent, but there is less desire to invest in the promise of someone who is middle-age or less likely to enjoy a long career. Grandma Moses may have started late—she had her first solo show at age 80 and still lived another 21 years—and both Henri Matisse and Vassily Kandinsky turned to art after pursuing other professions, but there are few major figures in today’s art world who had a different career first.

Other than actuarial concerns, gallery owners question the commitment to a professional full-time art career of someone who has already committed him- or herself to something else, such as children or a job. Michael Severin, a painter in Sonoma, Calif., who retired after 37 years at age 55 from the U.S. Postal Service, where he had been a processing-plant manager, noted that he once was in conversation with a West Coast gallery owner who “liked my work and seemed to be on the point of wanting to represent me, but I made the mistake of saying that I paint because I love to paint, which she didn’t want to hear.” What she seemed more interested in hearing, Severin concluded, was that he was willing to do whatever it takes to get his work into certain collections and have exhibits in more and more prestigious museums. “Because I have a pension, I think she believed I don’t feel the pressure to sell my work and advance my career,” he said.

Many people in one field or another who dream of being artists take continuing-education art classes at a college or art school with the hope of making a gradual transition. Others jump right into art-school degree programs. At the undergrad level, a number of art schools offer diplomas for older students who already earned baccalaureates elsewhere, requiring those students to take only the studio classes. These days, according to instructors and administrators at art schools, one finds one or two older, second-career, or “nontraditional” students in every graduating class.

There are some clear benefits to having students with more life experience. “Older students stabilize the class,” said Jeffrey Carr, senior vice president for academic affairs at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. “They’re calm, on time, meticulously prepared, attentive. They take notes, they’re respectful and don’t act out.” What’s more, “they may make huge gifts” to the school, Carr said, noting two large printing presses that were purchased for the printmaking department by one former second-career alumnus.

The first year of art school tends to be the most difficult for these older students, who find their classmates are half their age—perhaps the age of their children—and view them suspiciously as someone’s parents rather than as fellow artists in training.

“I walk into a class and people assume I’m the teacher, and they start asking me questions,” said Carol Daynard, a retired assistant superintendent of schools in Newton, Mass., who earned a diploma from Boston’s museum school in 2009.

Developing bonds with other students rarely comes easily. “I didn’t go to their parties or talk about the things they talk about, if it wasn’t specifically about art,” said Susan Strauch of Mission Viejo, Calif., who quit office work after 25 years to attended the Laguna College of Art & Design. “People were in a very different place in their lives.”

Older people who have been successful in other ventures may find the lack of deference shown to them jarring, at least at first.

“I was a manager,” Cutrell said. “I set directives and objectives. I’ve gone down to Wall Street and given presentations to Goldman Sachs. I came to art school, and no one was listening to me.”

At  times, older students develop stronger bonds with their instructors, to whom they are closer in age, than with their fellow students. But the instructors may also feel intimidated by older students who have done so much better financially than they might ever hope to do. Cutrell noted it has not been easy finding faculty members willing to act as mentor to her in the development of her work and career. She attributed that to the sense that “I don’t present as needy. There’s a strange awkwardness in dealing with people: You’re not the student that people want to help and nurture.”

From the standpoint of art-school faculty and administrators, second-career and older students present challenges.

“Life experience and maturity are certainly a plus,” said Perin Mahler, dean of fine art at Laguna, “but being in a position where they are no longer in a state of authority has been a problem with some students.” He said many of these students feel anxiety about their age and being behind younger students in skill development; some are used to “getting service and pull entitlement stuff.” Art-class critiques, which can be nerve-wracking to students at any age, can seem like a slap in the face to someone who is not accustomed to that style of frankness and egalitarianism. On a deeper level, Mahler said that older students have ways of doing things, “modalities that are more set in stone than you find in younger students.

“It’s easier in your 20s to remake yourself,” he said. “An older student will find that breaking down ways of working is traumatic.”

Jeffrey Carr agreed, saying that “it’s harder for people who are older to adapt and respond and come up with an entirely new approach to things.

“You have 20-somethings in art classes who sit there slack-jawed, milling around, not appearing to pay any attention to what’s going on,” he said. “But then you see them make huge conceptual leaps, which is so remarkable and rewarding. Then, you have many of the older students, who are paying close attention to what is being said and taking notes, but they’re not as open to trying something new. In art school, you’re not supposed to be a good student; you’re supposed to move away from the teacher and be amazing, startling. Some of the older students have a more difficult time with that.”

“Older students don’t want to make a mess; their studios are generally spotless,” said Susan Stephenson, an associate professor of painting and drawing at Lyme Academy College of Fine Art. “I think that can be stunting to the creative process.” She also noted that older graduates often take a “ferociously professional approach to their art careers. I receive announcements from them about upcoming exhibits and where their work can be purchased, but I don’t see that same tenacity in their art. The work itself seems somewhat tame.”

If the traditional-age student may sometimes appear impressionable or empty-headed, older students may have too much to keep track of, especially if they also need to keep working. Philadelphia Academy’s director of admissions, Stan Greidus, said a full-time stint at art school isn’t an easy fit for all second-career students, who are sometimes in a “sandwich generation,” he said, “distracted by having children in college and parents in nursing homes. It’s clear they’re struggling with a number of things, and a four-year program like ours may just be too much.”

Ultimately, art instructors and gallery owners try to determine how serious the art career is for the older, emerging artist. Does a guaranteed pension make an artist less “hungry” to produce work, exhibit and promote it, and generate sales? Maybe, and maybe not.

“It takes a lot of energy and will power to pursue galleries, and sometimes the energy isn’t there,” Michael Severin said.

On the other hand, Lesa Chittenden Lim said that knowing that she doesn’t “have 50 years to establish an art career makes me more avid about doing everything right now,” and she has made use of her connections in the business world to generate opportunities for exhibitions and some sales.

“People think it’s interesting to read about the background I have,” she said. “It’s a nice selling point.”

Daniel Grant is the author of several books on the arts, all published by Allworth Press, including The Business of Being an Artist (4th edition, 2010), Selling Art Without Galleries (2006) and The Fine Artist’s Career Guide (2nd edition, 2004). He has been a features reporter at Newsday and The Commercial-Appeal, a contributing editor for American Artist magazine, and a regular contributor to ARTnews magazine and the Wall Street Journal.

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  • ellenhunt

    Feed them mushrooms. The magic variety.  ;-)
    Oh, paradises lost! :-)
    A mush by any other name would still have room! 

  • monicag

    I think sharing personal experiences in a classroom prepares them for the workforce.  Often managers/authoritative figures share with their staff to show empathy, understanding and to build trust. 

  • arrive2__net

    It seems to me that if you go to “the deepest emotions”-level you have to study and adhere to the ethical parameters of opening those doors.   If you plan on going to “the deepest emotions”-level, students should know about it before drop-and-add…that way you can be better assured that the students you have are interested in the learning/writing experience you can offer, and you can be assured that students aren’t becoming committed to a class that may involve too much swimming in the deep end of the pool. 

    Although much of the artistry of writing fiction may be in the ‘deep emotions’, freshman composition seems a little bit early in a writer’s college career to go there. Obviously, you mean to keep the class a learning experience in writing for the students, and not let it become some kind of therapy.  

    Bart Schuster
    Arrive2.net
    Twitter.com/arrive2_net

  • drbob8

    In my very first teaching position after graduate school, I was having a cup of coffee with several of my new colleagues who asked how my first semester was going.  I told them of a discussion I had had the day before in one of my classes in which I revealed that I had disclosed a fair amount of personal information.  Several of my colleagues were shocked and one asked, “Do you really think it is proper, and do you really think your students want to know those kinds of things about you.”  After some thought I said, “Yes, sometimes I think the most important thing we can share with our student is our successes and failures in life.  Then they know were are real people.”  That was more than 40 years ago and I still let my student know who I am.

  • polisciguy

    Making a personal connection with students is one of the most powerful things we can do as educators. A colleague of my once said that she teaches students about ______. The primary focus of her teaching is to connect to the students in the seats in the classroom. I have had professors who are warm and personable and I have had professors who were cold and distant. Both groups had the same pedigree and level of intellect, but the former clearly made a much bigger impact on my academic, professional and personal lives. 

    Whether it is communication, English, history or politics (I’ve taught all four at one point over the last decade), I always share how my personal experiences shape my understanding of the field. Such sharing often comes with a personal story or two and sets me apart from some of my colleagues.  Last semester, a student asked me to write him a recommendation because I was the only professor he had that term who actually knew his name. If that is not an endorsement for sharing a bit of yourself with your students, I don’t know what is.

  • usaret

    I think there’s personal and there’s “personal”: I might mention that I almost flunked out of college my first semester when students might complain about being overwhelmed; I might mention my daughter who is a student on the same campus where I teach (most find out anyway–she’s active in student government and does orientations for students with disabilities) in terms of advocating for our campus reading program, which really changed her life.

    But loss of family members? Relationship with any relatives? Nope–I’m on wrappedupinbooks’s side–I too used to encourage personal writing (especially when that was first in vogue in composition classrooms some years ago), but ran into exactly the same problem–the student assumes a teacher is evaluating the quality of the experience, not the writing.

    Besides, a compostion classroom is meant to begin the process of making students academic writers, where the personal ought to be subsumed into some larger purpose. It might start with a personal essay, but it certainly ought not to focus on that to the exclusion of other kinds of writing.

    Finally, I am worried that I might become or be perceived to be some kind of voyeur, encouraging students to tell me things I really have no right to know–

  • kcuserials

    As a provost of three years, I have had to deal with only two or three incidents where professors shared personal data in class with a negative result.  I consider that a very low number.

    There is a line that marks the boundary between sharing that hinders teaching & sharing that helps it.  I think this line is usually fairly easy to see, but I work in a fairly homogeneous institution.  The more diverse your classroom, the more complicated the issue may be.

  • drfiup

    I think it depends on what you are teaching. As a Special Educator, I share many stories of what “my kids with severe disabilities” did (many, many) years ago. Some are funny stories, some are sad, and some demonstrate how certain teacher behaviors (mine) cause or prevent problems. I am willing to admit my errors both as a K-12 classroom teacher and as their instructor in higher ed. I also tell my successes with teaching and some “tricks of the trade”. Frequently these stories encourage students to also engage in discussion and if they are engaged, they are learning. There are some subjects that are off limit in the classroom, but I tell my students I am open to discussing just about anything during office hours and, if they need counseling, I help them make the first appointment. I have had a student discuss suicide and we now have a system for getting these students help immediately. I am not just an instructor, I am a caring human being who has had many challenges in my own life. I wish I had had someonewho was mature  to talk to while in college.

  • realtyannie

    Does anyone allow extra credit, make-up credit, or any other options to salvage the grade – and the learning opportunity? Certainly some students would straighten up when smacked in the face with losing their financial aid package

  • dpmccain

    In reviewing grades throughout the Quarter, I create hypothetical situations for students based upon their academic performance.  The difficulty is,  if a student fails, regardless of circumstances, it is often viewed as a failing on the part of the instructor, not on the student. 

    There are times when I know that a student will not be successful.  There are too many cognitive processing issues at play. I am saddened the student enrolled at all, because anyone with any ethical construct would not have enrolled the student.  “Trying harder” is simply not enough.  Unfortunately, I know students who have dropped, only to be convinced they simply needed to return to try harder. 

    In modifying assignments, some students have been able to pass with a 59.5%, but often these students then challenge the grade, believing that because he/she attended class, an A is deserved.  This is where I fault the instructor who allows 50-70% of the academic grade toward attendance.  This practice gives the student a false sense that a body in the seat is a measure of academic proficiency. 

    In unfortunate circumstances, a student will wait until late in the Quarter, then realizing a desired grade is not possible, charge the instructor with bias or racism. In order to avoid “uncomfortable” situtations, administration allows the student to W.   Yup. 

    It would be inappropriate for me to advise a student to drop, as well as professional suicide, but I make it clear to students Week 1, that an A is earned not given, and  just showing up is not indicative of an A student.  Further, unless you have an achieved percentage of 100% by Week 11, you do not have time for extra-credit.  What you desire is alternative credit because you don’t ”like”  an assignment or “need” a particular grade.  Earn it.   

  • profmomof1

    My school has very late deadlines for withdrawing; any half-way smart student can figure out if they’re going to get an F and withdraw instead (since an F doesn’t give them credit for the course or help financial aid, anyway). Students who need the credit will go ahead and take a D or D-. But what I truly hate is that my school encourages students to request an Incomplete (I on transcript) rather than withdraw. That’s always more work for the professor, who has to continue working with the student the next semester. And, 95% of the time, that does end up becoming an F. Students who couldn’t do the work the first time around generally can’t the second time if it’s on top of the next semester’s full load. So I try to talk them into a W, then starting over next semester. More likely to lead to eventual success. 

  • profmurph

    If one works at a for-profit school, never suggest a withdrawal. Aside from management making it difficult to do, you will be unemployed.

  • misstrudy

    When a student does not have a chance in hell of passing the class, I usually have them come over the office and start the conversation with “What are your expectations for this class?” and walk him or her through what he or she would need to pass.  Then I ask “Do you think this is feasible at this point? Do you see this happening? Or else, have you considered your options?”  If the student insists on remaining in class–which they often do–at least I know I walked him or her through the reality of it all, and it is up to them. I never actually push for withdrawal, though, but I broach the subject. That way, at least they cannot claim it is a huge shock when they get a failing grade at the end.