Interview With Professor Jenny Chi

This is the second in our series of interviews across the campus and across disciplines. We take our questions about writing to the Art Department and Professor Jenny Chi.

Can you address the role of writing in your field?

I wrote earlier in life, but at some point, I made a conscious choice to move toward the visual.

For the artist, because the artwork is the point, and it is for the art that their labors should be focused, and have been focused, a written work is, by definition, the creation of yet another piece. It is not the art.

Such a document forces the artist to over-analyze their work, or perhaps, over-represent or over-explain it. Unless writing is part of an artist's personal repertoire, this added piece can be an intense weight on the artist (to create two different works). The written in this case must de-centered in favor of the visual elements.

What kinds of writing do artists do?

99% of artists must create a written thesis as part of their graduate programs. They usually offer the written along with one specially chosen piece of art work, from among the many they have created.

THE VOYAGE OF ODYSSEUS

Especially in a graduate program, when there is only so much time, and the demands on one are so overwhelming, something has to give. Writing is that thing for artists.  I attended the New York Academy of Art. When I proposed my final project to my professors, I said, "I want to do a 72 x 72 painting of Adam & Eve. What do you want me to write?" I was surprised to be told: "You're a painter. You paint." The work one does as an artist must stand on its own merits.  How important is it for artists to write well as members of a community that uses the visual to communicate ideas?

The most important for me is my artwork. Because of the language barrier, writing in English is not easy for me. The ideas embedded within my art work are complex. I would not choose to express those ideas in writing, either in my native tongue, which is, unfortunately fading, or in English.  I don't speak for all artists when I say this. Some artists incorporate writing into their work, or even write as a creative endeavor. 

Do you see written responses to art works by students as beneficial? If so, how?

I assign a research paper because every student artist must know about the past. If they don't know the art movements that went before, they can't really understand or know the present movements within art. Routinely, I ask for one and a half pages. What I want from students is a broad swath about an art period, one that shows that they understand the particular time or art movement they are investigating. Mostly, however, I want to know how this impacts the student. I want to know their thoughts and feelings about their finds. This is the most important part. Art is centered in the emotions as well as the intellect. It connects with us at a core level. I want students to write about this connection.

How does one describe, through writing, artistic methods, means, movements and ideologies?

Every artist, if they want to enter the professional realm, must create an “Artist's Statement.” This defines one's philosophy and tells what the artist is trying to accomplish in their artwork. However, this statement has no standard format. Every artist approaches this statement differently. Some write 2-3 pages and fill it with quotes from artists of the past. My statement is about 2-3 paragraphs. I get to the point. I tell just enough to entice my readers to view my artwork. 

What are some of the key differences between the way a visual artist articulates a complicated idea and the way a writer would approach the same communicative task?

A writer has an entire book, an essay, a story or a play with which to tell their story. Poetry is perhaps a bit more dense. Generally, writers can divide the work into chapters, or sections, or scenes and acts. Conversely, a painter has only one surface with which to tell the story. They work on a two-dimensional surface to create an entire scene, say for instance, in Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet, I must choose the scene I want to portray, the time of loving or of dying. I must therefore choose carefully the symbols I embed into the painting.

What are the characteristics of “good writing” about art?

Good writing about art holds mystery. It tells just enough to get attention and cause the reader to want to see the artwork, to become a viewer of the art. Good writing doesn't over explain. In fact, it speaks from somewhere other than a descriptive narrative.

What can we do to become more informed about Art and better able to understand and appreciate what artists have to say?

Become literate about the history of Art. Inform yourself about the past. These art movements accompanied social and literary movements of the time. Art is a part of the whole culture. It is a particularly rich form of representation.

Could you demonstrate or explain how we might approach and “read” one of your own works or another work presently on display at EIU?

As a representational artist who focuses on the human body, I ask that viewers respect the beauty of the human form. This is much different from the voyeuristic/ pornographic images in popular media. Take time to talk with artists as well. This is where you will learn most about the art they create. 

*Many thanks to Professor Chi for the use of her work for this interview.  Her work, entitled The Voyage of Odysseus, is copyrighted and cannot be reprinted without her express permission. 

Don't Snooki Around with Grammar

The youtube video above is a clear representation of how celebrities are subject to the same grammar judgments all of us are vulnerable to.

Many of us frequently use one of the many social media sites available to us, and we are subject to criticisms about our grammar, which is typically focused on what people call usage errors. That means that now, more than ever, we should be aware of our writing etiquette.

At any given time, people from all over the world can make instant judgments of our intelligence from merely glancing at a tweet. A poorly written Facebook status can cause massive amounts of critical comments written in all caps. Likewise, a simple grammar mistake on a dating site profile can have horrible consequences.

This public shame should be seen as a huge internal motivator for correcting our grammar.

The first step to avoid these embarrassing types of errors is by valuing language. As Hank says in the video, we have to "care about the quality of discourse in our society." By doing so, we will not only improve our individual reputations, but our social media discourse as well.

These are the important skills we learn in writing classes and classes where strong written communication is highly valued and supported. All we have to do is transfer these grammatical and stylistic lessons from the classroom into everyday use.

For example, proofreading and editing are skills that can be applied to even the smallest post, say even one less than 140 characters, before hitting "Post."

Awareness is crucial to our media reputation.

Using strong proofreading and editing skills in our attempts to communicate on social sites, paired with a consideration of our audience, purpose, and subject will not only improve our reputation and our credibility, but it will also improve our social media discourse.

I'm not suggesting we remove the culture, creativity, or the fun out of social media communication. What I am suggesting is that we value clarity and integrity in our social discourse.

So, let's not Snooki-around with our grammar. Let's consider our language quality!

Beware, Genre Boundaries

There's a scene in Penny Marshall's 1988 film Big where Robert Loggia's character (the owner of a toy company) is drawing a distinction between the content of a marketing report and the activity that takes place inside a large toy store on the weekend. The aforementioned distinction is addressed to Tom Hanks' character, (a twelve-year old boy who after making a wish at a carnival, undergoes a Kafkaesque metamorphosis into a thirty year-old man), who with ingenuous befuddlement replies: "What's a marketing report?"

Whatever a marketing report is, a safe assumption to make is that it will both look and read much differently than a Batman comic.

A marketing report belongs to one kind of genre. A Batman comic belongs to a different kind genre.

A marketing report is intended for one kind of discourse community. A Batman comic is intended for a different kind of discourse community.

Presumably, it would be a mistake for an employee of a large toy company or any large company for that matter (except maybe if the employee works for Disney or Time Warner) to produce a marketing report with a series of highly decorated square panels and speech bubbles.

Conceding my ignorance on the matter, I would hazard a guess that, unlike a Batman comic, a marketing report does not contain a plot or bother to develop either a protagonist or an antagonist, unless the antagonists are defined as being the other companies that hold greater market share. Likewise, a Batman comic will rarely delve into issues of market saturation or how the internet is changing the 6-12 age demographic in regard to action figures, which are not tied directly to a TV show or a film.

Of course, other genres exist besides marketing reports and Batman comics. I found this out the hard way when I began working at the writing center. Instead of a market report, I was instructed to compose a memo. Whatever a memo was, I knew it was different than a Socratic Dialogue; I knew it was different than a biography on John Milton. I just didn't know in what specific ways it was different.

Lucky for me, the Directors of the EIU writing center prepared for the unsophisticated consultant. I don't remember if I asked the Assistant Director for a sample of an ideal memo, or if she anticipated that someone would ask, and thus made the asking moot. However it happened, the director informed the class that three sample memos from bygone years were available for our perusal. The first chance I got I seized the folder and began to peruse, but only after whispering a sigh of relief. Ahh.

I supposed I could have guessed. I wasn't completely ignorant. Like I say, I had a pretty good idea of what a memo was not. I have written a lot of papers, for a lot of different classes, at a lot of different institutions, under the guidance of a lot of different professors, and not once had any of them referred to any assignment as a "memo."

Still, guessing is a risky epistemic strategy. Probably a better strategy is to provide an unsophisticated student, who is being introduced to a unfamiliar genre, with an ideal example. In this way, the student can get a sense of the specific differences that delimit the unfamiliar genre with the genres he is already familiar with.

Unlike Batman comics and marketing reports, genre differences can be more subtle. The more subtle the difference, the more likely a student is to transgress a generic boundary. For example, I learned two rules in my first composition course that did not hold in other courses.

First, I learned that when writing an essay, the conclusion should not include the phrase "In conclusion..." A few months later, I took a speech class. My peroration was marked down because I omitted the phrase "In conclusion..." Ouch, that one stung. My  indignant diatribe did nothing except make me thirsty.

Second, I learned that when writing an essay, one should never use the first person singular "I."  One should instead use the term "the reader." Fast-forward a few semesters, and I am sitting across from one of my many philosophy professors, when he asks me: "Why don't you use "I" in your papers? It is so much easier to read and more natural."

Avail yourselves of my foolishness. Do not presume that every paper you write will be in the same genre. Do not presume that every paper you write will be directed to the same discourse community.

A Message from the Ghost of Employment Future

Many of you will find yourselves graduating this semester and likely on the long arduous search for work. Some may have jobs that you held during the semesters while others might’ve focused solely on academics in lieu of a steady paycheck. Whatever the case, once you get your fancy-shmancy degree, you’re going to have to make it look like you’re a pro. I mean, you are a pro, but you gotta make them believe it. Your prospective employers.

Yeah, you got some wicked awesome grades. 3.5 GPA? Not everybody can boast that. Heck, it might even be just what your employer’s looking for. Your resume? It was pretty boss. It could just snag you that job.

But wait. I can see it now:

Mr. Future-Boss is thumbing through his latest wave of applications to position of Senior Fancy-Pants. He’s looking for a particular background with a particular set of skills, and, by George, you have all those particulars down like you’ve planned it all these years.

But you know what? He never sees your application. In fact, he tosses in the “Send to Incinerator” bin, the contents of which will be sent immediately to the incinerator where it will be converted into ashes and then returned to Mr. Future-Boss’s office where Mr. Future-Boss and his assistant will sip ginger ale and dance on the ashes.

I’ll answer your first question: I don’t know what kind of dance they’re doing, but if I had to guess I’d say the Charleston. To respond to your second query, I’d have to say that the reason why it got sent to the incinerator was because missing a key element. Not a crisp hundred-dollar bill paperclipped to the back of your application, but instead a cover letter.

Now I know nobody writes letters anymore except foppish dukes in powdered wigs, but that’s why this is called a cover letter. You don’t need to write a letter, but you sure as heck need a cover letter.

What does that entail? Well according to the Purdue OWL, you want to begin with a little bit of this:

• State the university you attend, your major, and what position you are applying for (if you are a student).
• Mention where you heard about the job.
• Mention the name of a professor or other contact who has a positive connection with the company.
• Bring up any previous conversations you have had with your reader (i.e., at a job fair).

Intros consist of some name dropping and fond reminiscence, or at least pretend fond reminiscence. Name dropping shows how connected you are and how enthusiastic you might be to get this job. Word of the wise: DO NOT GET WORDY. You want to be concise, to the point. It's fast paced world we live in folks and you don't want to get bogged down by wordy introductions and poorly-paced lead-ins that involve unnecessary information and--

Next, you want to kick it up a notch in the body, or the argument. This isn't where you argue that the one time you met your employer he was wearing two different color socks (it was a bad day for Mr. Future-Boss), but rather why you deserve this job, nay, why they deserve you. You're going to want to mention a few of these:

• Special projects
• Awards
• Accomplishments

Talk yourself up. Big time. But don't lie or exaggerate. Mr. Future-Boss might have a pretty good idea whether or not you're in Mensa because he's the secretary at their meetings. He takes darn good attendance.

Feel ready to finish? Keep these things in mind:

• Close with a strong reminder of why you are a good match for the job position and the organization.
• Request an interview in some way.
• Provide contact information.
• Thank them!
• Sign your name and print it underneath.

Mr. Future-Boss has what they call the short-term memory loss. He swears he's like Guy Pearce in Memento, but his assistant (and most people know better). Regardless, he's going to forget why you're a top candidate for Senior Fancy-Pants after he gets done reading the body. You also want to talk to him in the future--you know, to convince him further why you'd be the best Senior Fancy-Pants to come through in the last twenty years. You'll want to leave your name, number, and address in case he wants to don his powdered wig and write you back, and while you're at it sign the bottom so he can see how good of penmanship you have. Or see how good the handwriting is of your close friend who has good handwriting. Again, he might forget your name so a signature should remind him of it.

And thank him because Mr. Future-Boss is a busy man with little time to dawdle.

Need some visuals? Check 'em.

Part 4 of the Interview with President Perry: The Power of Words

"It's through writing, I believe, that you do start to understand yourself."

[Hebeler]

You’ve kind of addressed the next questions I was going to ask you about procrastination, and I really liked the way that you put of all that, so I think I’ll let Dan ask his questions.

[Davis] 

Okay.

[Davis] 

You’ve told us about different applications of writing, and you’ve told us about different steps in your writing process. Is there any one process or any one aspect of your writing that you particularly like, and conversely is there one aspect that you just absolutely dread?

[Perry]

Well, okay so let’s take the different kinds of writing—the part I like for the writing has to do with the job and all that. The part I like there is defining on the front end: Audience, message. Because that clarifies a lot for you right there.

And once I get that clear in my head and that’s not always clear because you’re meaning. Let’s say you’re going to be meeting with the Mattoon Rotary, and you’re going to be talking about something. The audience isn’t the Mattoon Rotary.

You’ve got to look at who’s all in there, the different segments of the community, and then you’ve got to think what are the common threads there, so you may end up knowing you’re going to be addressing, you know, one audience when you’re talking about the Renewable Energy Center, another audience when you’re talking about enrollment, and another audience when you’re talking about community service. And so I that’s the part I like, it’s getting that identified.

In terms of more personal, really personal writing, I like it when I find the right word.

In haiku, you know you’ve got these syllables, and I know of course if you in different languages of course the syllables change and meaning changes and all that, but I just do English okay? So, getting it right, at least what I think is right, is very satisfying because sometimes you’ll write it and you’ll have the write number of syllables and you’ll be getting almost the intent you want. But changing one of the words sometimes can really make things fall into place, kind of like a jigsaw puzzle, you know. You do a jigsaw puzzle, and you’re down to just a few spots left, and boy this looks like it goes right there, you know, it almost does, but it doesn’t quite. So it’s the same with words. So that’s very satisfying. I like that. A lot of enjoyment out of that.

[Davis] 

Well splitting it up again into your professional and personal writing, what would you say have been your most successful or favorite writing experiences?

[Perry] 

Well, I’d say maybe a couple of the mathematics papers I wrote. I felt like, you know, when it was all done, I felt very good about the way I had put together. A lot of the stuff that I wrote was in applied mathematics, so I was wanting to strike the right balance, you know, between theory and application, you know.

Proofs but also computational examples that show that the theorem not only is true because you proved it, but you actually can use it to compute solutions to certain kinds of equations. So that’s been very satisfying.

But I think my personal writing, I think students already know. They get to us and they’ve already gone through a lot in their life. And there’s going to be more of that to come, and I think to the extent that they can see writing as a way to deal with issues. It’s not like their writing for anybody else. They’re not going to publish it. Some people keep diaries. Some people just every now and then say I’ve got to write about this. Sometimes they tear it up. Sometimes they keep it in a book.

But, I think words have such power for us. That’s why we have to be careful, you know, in using speech with other people. I mean, yes, we have freedom of speech, but we can sure hurt people with our speech. But the power of words enables us to deal with our own emotions too and deal with the things that are happening to us in our lives. So it’s been satisfying when I’ve been able to face some of those things, deal with some of those things in that way.

[Kory]

Well, to take it back into maybe your professional writing, when you see other people doing the kind of writing you do, so you read a speech, or, you know, you see some of that, when do you think like “Oh, I wish I said that.”

[Perry] 

I wish I’d said that.

[Kory] 

What do you really admire in that you see people doing well in the kind of writing that you also do?

[Perry] 

Well, I see brevity and imagery.

Someone will write something, and it will bring something to mind. I think that’s very valuable. You know, you think about examples: with malice toward none, charity for all, ask not what your country can do for you but what you, I know there are names for that kind of construction.

[Kory]

Right.

[Perry] 

But wording that connects you to the speaker and to the speech.

I think one of the great things about Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech is its, we all know the part about I have a dream, but you look at the whole speech, and you see imagery in many, many places, very powerful imagery and it’s not with a lot of words.

It’s just, you know, a few words you get this imagery towards you. Franklin Roosevelt, and of course a lot, you’re shaped, I’m shaped by what I studied, what I’ve heard. Those are the kind of things that get me: just short, powerful words with imagery and a call to action. You see this as something more than just some words sitting on the page. It’s something that’s reaching out to you, saying, you know, you need to do something.

[Kory] 

So it’s about when you see writing that works, or sort of that sort of good writing that sort of you know it when you see it. Has anyone ever, to take a sort of more intellectualized version of that, is there, has anyone said anything to you about writing that you said like “Yes!”? Have you gotten good advice about writing?

[Perry] 

Oh well, the best advice I ever had, got was “Know your audience.”

Practice & Resilience

As you can see below and to the right, Presentation Zen is one of our recommended blogs on this site.

While the author Garr Reynolds squarely focuses on giving presentations, which involve rhetorical concerns and writing obviously, in his posts, his March 24 entry, "Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight: The Power of Japanese Resilience," is a reflective piece on the tragedy in Japan and how the Japanese people are resilient in the face of such a horrible natural disaster.

In one section of his post, Reynolds, who lives in Japan, offers his own perspective on the well-known proverb that is part of the title of his entry: "You see this ethic reinforced in all facets of Japanese culture including education, business, sports, the martial arts, the Zen arts, etc. It is especially important to remember the sentiment expressed in this proverb when times are dark. There are no quick fixes in life and anything of real worth will necessarily take much struggle and perseverance. Success does not have to be fast--what's more important is that one simply does their absolute best and remains persistent."

Personally, I've been drawn to this proverb for a long time. I think I was first introduced to it in junior high school from something I read if I remember correctly. Regardless and in what is a leap here because I'm moving from the situation in Japan to matters about writing, I've applied the principle to my life in general but specifically to my writing life.

Of course, comparing what's happened and what's currently happening in Japan to the trials and tribulations of people writing papers in college or faculty members writing papers for presentation and publication could venture toward the ridiculous, toward the absurd.

I have linked Reynolds' post out of admiration for the resilience of the Japanese people. I do not mean to equate the two in a one-to-one manner; that is not my intent. So I hope you stay with me here.