My Little Brother Started College This Semester

destin4Destin, striking a pose…

I’m proud of the guy. He’s strong, smart, and pretty thoughtful (although it’s hard to find a picture of him that’s not a selfie taken in the bathroom). I know pursuing higher education is going to make him an even better thinker and doer in this world. His matriculation this semester is not only about his abilities and drive, but also about the vision that our mom had many years ago, as well as the guidance and mentoring our older sister provided. I think Destin would thank everyone – Walt, Stacey, and Denya, our Mom and Pastor Dan – for their efforts. I know he’ll make us even more proud.

destin2Stacey and Destin on a walk back in the day…

One of my favorite memories of Destin’s early years was when I’d come home from college to spend a few days with family and sometimes things would devolve into sword fighting…

destin1

destin5

destin3That’s some glory right there!

Destin, I hope your first semester is rolling along amazingly well. When things get weird, strike a pose with a plastic sword like the old days.

It’ll help, brother.

~

Inspiration: Simon at The Caribbean Linked Residency

My friend and student Simon Tatum has had an amazing year as an artist. From representing Mizzou at the SEC Symposium on Entrepreneurship and Creativity in Atlanta to a lengthy study abroad trip in Europe (not to mention the many shows he has been in), Simon has really stepped into a professional artist’s world. And he’s still an undergraduate!

Recently Simon left the Midwest to head down to the Caribbean for a residency in Aruba. Simon is from The Cayman Islands, so he’s a part of the culture of the region and his work deals directly with situations unique to that part of the world. The Caribbean Linked Residency is an awesome opportunity for artists connected to the Caribbean to network, create art together, and foster a global awareness for the power of Caribbean-based work. Here’s more about the cohort Simon is a part of right now.

13950565_1239672856044109_1820369049_oOne of the locations Simon is working at on Aruba. (Photos courtesy Simon Tatum)

I’m really excited for the work Simon will do at this residency and so pleased with his thoughtfulness, professionalism, and dedication to his ideals and worth ethic. And he keeps up with the sighting and measuring!

13931472_1239672532710808_960033781_oSimon drawing on location in Aruba.

I hope you’ll take the time to check out Simon’s work here. As he sends me more photos of his time at the Residency, I’ll update this post.

The Ballou Collection – Nina (An) Flores

I’m starting a new section of my blog based on artworks that have been given to me – or ones that we have purchased over the years. Many of these are from students or colleagues, and I’m excited to share them. First, is from Nina (An) Flores. This is one of my favorite artworks a student has given me. This piece is a master copy Nina created, a drawing in oil pastel where she copied a ceramic slab made by Bede Clarke. She had the benefit and honor to work from observation on this piece, as Bede let her borrow or original work. The drawing is awesome. 14 by 14 inches on paper, 2012.

Nina-An

And here is a demo that I made earlier in that semester… I drew a portrait of Nina. 12 by 18 inches, oil pastel on paper. 2012.

image

 

Back To It

Last month, while I was in the hospital, my oldest daughter (Miranda Grace) wrote this note to me:

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Her Wording:

“DeAR DDAD’ I Hop you can mac it THRTHW UL UV TiHS DAy LOVe MiRANdA TO DAD”

Translation:

“Dear Dad, I hope you can make it through all of this day. Love, Miranda. To Dad.”

Man. A 5 year old shouldn’t have to think that, let alone write it. This note has been breaking my heart the last week or so. I don’t know where it was the previous weeks, but she pulled it out at a meal a few days ago and said she wrote it for me in the hospital (my wife confirmed this). I’m working on a painting of it now.

I’m pretty sad that Miranda and my other kiddos had to see me have a heart attack. I’m sad they had to see me in the hospital and very weak for the last 5 weeks. I’m thankful to have survived and thankful I’ve been able to grow stronger again. I’m slowly coming back. We’ve made huge changes in diet and everyday routine.

But tomorrow I’m going back to it. Back to teaching. Back to the Art Department. Back to grads and fellow faculty. Back to our awesome office staff. Back to demonstrating that making images, translating experiences, and providing points of access for others are important. These are activities that human beings have engaged in for many tens of thousands of years. No matter how much things change – shifting modes of communication, the weirdness of politics, the coming transhuman singularity, etc, et al – the need to create and speak across the gulfs between individuals will always be a key aspect of the human equation.

I’m glad to be getting back to all of that.

If you see me, make sure I’m taking it slow and easy, though.

Maintaining Momentum For Change At Mizzou

One of the big issues that has come up in the days following the protests is what can be done to keep the momentum going. The protests and interventions that took place this semester are intertwined with a huge number of categories, among which are:

  • Race and gender.
  • The rights of all students and the proper remuneration for graduate students in particular.
  • The failures of a business mindset in a university setting.
  • The responsibilities of administrators to deal with racial and gender-based discrimination.
  • The necessity of recruiting, mentoring, and retaining students and faculty of color.
  • The proactive development of the University of Missouri as a place where students and faculty of every kind can feel safe, heard, and valued.

We’ve got a long way to go. The national media certainly pigeonholed the protests and reduced the reality of what is, and has been, happening at Mizzou down to overly simplified binaries. They wanted to pitch free speech against racial tension. They wanted to make it seem as if the grievances that were being aired amounted only to vapid temper tantrums of spoiled millennials. They cast the reality of racially-based aggression as fantasy. They collapsed over two years of issues into a couple scattered spats about imagined racism. All of that was wrong.

So in the wake of all of this, how are we to be clear about the problems we face, the progress we’ve already made, and stay the course on the work yet to be done? These were the sorts of questions Dr. Maya Gibson had in mind a couple days ago when she posted on her Facebook wall. I met Maya at the Wakonse Conference in May of 2015, and that was one of the most compelling aspects of the event. Getting to hear from her then, and having the pleasure of a few interactions with her since then, made me want to add my voice to the others who were posting their answers on Dr. Gibson’s Facebook wall. I decided to post the questions Maya asked and my answers here to get a chance to express these thoughts out beyond Facebook.

Maya Gibson: Dear white MU friends and allies: what do you think MU could do to make it a more welcoming place for black people (students, faculty, and the COMO community)?

Matt Ballou: One of the main things I have been doing is curating the canon of art history and art-making techniques. Rather than defaulting to 12 or 15 dead white males, I strive to show the work of artists in ways that empower my students. That means showing artists of color, artists of underrepresented genders and gender-expressions, and artists of different abilities and disabilities. That means talking about these examples as Artists and Thinkers, not as some label or hyphenation that could be used to disqualify their contribution. Students need to see themselves in the classroom, in the examples that are presented in the classroom. They need to know the possibilities for THEM.

I don’t view this as fulfilling some quota – I see it as part of the central aims of my work as an educator: to provide and advocate for ACCESS. Most of my students are female; they deserve to see the true breadth of approach to art-making that’s out there and know the significant contributions of women throughout time.

I could keep going… I think this is what I’m trying to do in the classroom to keep the movement going. When they see the institution respecting people they relate to and who look like them, they can believe that the institution – or at least ME – is on their side.

MG: Thanks, Matt. If you can keep your list going, I would encourage you to do so. I am learning and I hope others are too. What are specific things you do to make Mizzou a welcoming and safe place for black students, faculty, and the greater-MU community? I love that you are proactive in the ways in which you shape and recreate the canon for your students. You’re actively resisting the model of euro- and ethnocentrism that comprises so much (western) art pedagogy. We have that problem in music, too. I also have to say that I greatly appreciate the way in which you’ve advanced a notion of diversity writ large. Do you encounter resistance, and if so, how do you handle it?

MB: In terms of specific things, here is one big thing:

I always try to engage with others in such a way that they – and anyone observing the interaction – believe I think they are real. One of the biggest issues I have with most discussions in the public sphere and in the media is that they can so easily dilute the REAL lives, REAL experiences, and REAL perspectives of REAL people. So whether it’s informal – walking past an acquaintance on the sidewalk – or more formal – in a critique session in class – I want to concretely show that I believe in the truth of others’ existence. This means, for example, thoughtfully building on the comments of my colleagues of color during a graduate review. That may seem small, but it shows my white students that I affirm the things my colleague is saying and it demonstrates for my black/minority/female students that I listen when an African American woman speaks. They can see clearly that I hear that voice. It may seem little, but this sort of courtesy does, I think, make a difference.

Obviously it’s complex, but I think the idea I shared above about curating the canon and then following that up with visible positive engagement with my colleagues and students helps create an environment where welcoming other voices and actually hearing them can build a safe space and a more legitimate learning space.

In general I don’t personally get resistance. I think that’s a reflection of my privilege. I’m a pudgy white dude who looks semi-homeless half the time; no one questions the legitimacy of what I say or how I look. But I have heard about a number of situations where the appearance and ability to communicate of my female and minority colleagues have come under question. And that’s bullshit right there. When I talk about black artists, no one questions. But I have known of situations where black colleagues of mine have been accused of being shrill or having an ax to grind when they bring up the exact same artists in the exact same sort of situation. That’s bullshit. So my job is to recognize that difference between my experience and their experience and state my support for them. They didn’t do anything wrong, yet students felt it appropriate for them to give these educators a hard time. That’s bullshit. So, yes, there is resistance… We need to be vigilant.

Another thing I’ve tried to do is speak to my students – the majority of which are female and many of which are minorities of various sorts – as if they know what they are doing. They are used to professors talking down to them. I don’t do that. Some times they really don’t know what they are doing but they need someone to look at them with respect and ask them questions and make observations like they ARE already accomplished. And THAT will go a long way toward them actually becoming accomplished. This is exactly what happened to me. My main professors treated me like an artist and thinker long before I was actually there. And that’s why I have had some success. So I pay attention to my students in such a way that they hear the message that their lives are important and they can do this thing I’ve set before them.

MG: Thank you for seeing, acknowledging, and recognizing me, which is what I want more than anything. I have grown weary of being negated, silenced, and rejected by the majority, some of whom are so-called, supposed-to-be colleagues. Thank you for modeling for students how to treat people. Thank you for slapping the mess out of my hand when I raise it (at least it’s grounding). In short, thank you for being you.

~

I realize that this is just one conversation among all of the ones that have happened in and around Mizzou over the last semester. I hope that in some small way my clarification of my own attempts to be an educator who advocates for his students can help. God knows we don’t need more white dudes mansplaining, but I wanted to honor what I saw as Dr. Gibson’s serious and heartfelt request to her white colleagues. The primary thing I have learned throughout all of this is that LISTENING is one of the primary ways I can be an ally. Over and over I’ve seen Maya and other African American friends say “LISTEN” when the cacophony of viewpoints swirled up, when weird racist stuff crowded in and fostered disunity. Listen. Hear.

Listen. For me, part of listening well and preparing myself to hear well is having a strategy. What I wrote in response to Maya’s questions above amounts to my strategy as an educator to create a space for listening to my students and hearing their perspectives. LISTEN.

Let’s start now, and listen to Nina Simone…

 

I’m Really Glad We’re Teachers

There are a lot of cohorts we are a part of simply because of birth. Others we choose. There are some we seek out with tenacity. Other associations creep up on us, and they’re trans-historical, multi-generational unions.

Teaching is like that; we choose it, but it comes with a great many intangible elements we might recognize only later.

I’m an educator. This fact sometimes surprises me. By reason of this vocation I am connected to so many people who try to bring a sense of what it means to know and to do to others. We teachers… we’re epistemologists. What do we know? How is it that we can know? Where’s the dark horizon line that signals our limited understanding? Let’s dive into a shared space and craft meaning with others. It’s a great calling.

The last few days I’ve been thinking so much about the connection I have to other teachers. As someone who has been in higher education for nearly a decade, it makes sense that I now know dozens of teachers. But there is joy in realizing that some people I have known for many years became teachers as well, each on their own pathway.

I want to mention a few of them.

David Schwei – University of Cincinnati, Classics

David is my brother in law. He is a PhD candidate specializing in Roman History at the University of Cincinnati. He will soon complete his work there, but over the past couple of years he has engaged in a serious study of teaching itself. Our conversations on the subject are always enlightening and encouraging. David is a thoughtful, generous man, and his blog contains a wealth of hard-won information about what it means to teach and how to think about teaching. I love following his thoughts and his growing expertise. Never one to do anything halfway, David’s observations on teaching go far beyond his chosen discipline and offer great advice to anyone thinking about education. Click here for more info:

Latin, Classics and Education in the 21st Century.

davecaiqunDavid and my daughter Cai Qun learning together. Photo by Alison Ballou.

~

Natalie Shull – 5th Grade

Natalie is the oldest daughter of a special couple my wife and I relied on during our early married days in Chicagoland. It was illuminating to have a sidelong view of the Shull kids growing up, and especially to see Natalie take on increasing responsibility and maturity. During college she focused in on teaching, and eventually began to blog her way though a variety of experiences. Her thoughts are not technical, but neither are they purely Dionysian. They are about grace and hope. She has cut her educator’s teeth in the grass roots of teaching, and right now leads some 5th graders through their paces. It’s wonderful to see her excitement, joy, and desire for excellence on display in her posts. Check out her story here:

Lead Me Where.

Screen Shot 2013-12-21 at 8.44.54 PMMatt Ballou – Natalie Reading About the French Revolution. Oil on linen on panel, 26 by 24 inches, 2006. Private Collection, IL.

~

Alison Ballou – Homeschooling Superintendent

I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone who is more qualified for homeschooling than my wife. It’s easy for people not familiar with homeschooling to see it as a fringe phenomenon. Yet throughout much of history high quality education was possible at home. When parents have vision, time, and desire – not to mention the intellectual and educational background – homeschooling is a viable option. With multiple degrees from Northwestern, experience in child care, and proven ability to continue her education through books, online courses, and certificate programs in a variety of disciplines that dovetail with elementary education, Alison has crafted a fantastic learning experience for our two daughters. She’s got them above average in reading and math, and the three of them are beginning classes in Mandarin this week. Her attention to detail (everything is laid out day to day and recorded for reference and tracking) and passion for shepherding their emotional lives is amazing. You can see a good bit of what goes into her heart for teaching and learning on her blog:

Not Yet What We Shall Be.

041Cai Qun and Miranda working at the dining room table on a project. Photo by Alison Ballou.

~

I could have put dozens on this list; teachers who changed my life like Roberta Dudley (high school), Lisa Gregg-Wightman (undergraduate), or Barry Gealt (graduate). I could have included colleagues I have taught side by side with for many years – Jessica Thornton, Deborah Huelsbergen, or Chris Daniggelis. I could have highlighted former students who are now teachers in their own right – Trudy Denham, Ian Shelly, Megan Schaffer, or Shalonda Farrow. I could have featured family and friends who have taught me so much – my Mom, especially. I respect them all. I’m glad to be one of them.

In some sense, however, David, Natalie, and Alison represent the surprising way that as I became a teacher, others also grew into that calling around me. Though our disciplines, day-to-day routines, and curricula are different, we are bound together as educators. I’m really glad we’re teachers.

_MG_3406Me, in the classroom teaching composition to a group of Drawing 2 students. Photo by M. Kanaan.

A Grateful Visit

I began my undergraduate art career at Munson Williams Proctor Institute of Art, the Upstate New York extension campus of Pratt Institute. After working for a while after high school, I realized that I would not be happy if I didn’t at least try the art path. PrattMWP was the start of a long journey.

I don’t get back east often. Between family, teaching, and creative necessities I hadn’t visited my alma mater there in Utica, NY for a decade. This past summer, though, I decided a trip to the campus and museum was a must.

IMG_2013Courtyard outside the main buildings.

IMG_2014Big sign at the entrance to the main studio building.

I had massively important experiences in these buildings, on these grounds. I had professors – like Lisa Gregg-Wightman and Greg Lawler – who believed in me and inspired me. Lisa, in particular, was key to my growing sense that I really could make a life as an artist. I recall one midterm review with Lisa when I sort of stepped out of the present for a moment and realized that she was speaking to me as if I really were an artist. As if I had a valid place at the table. As if my thoughts and opinions were worth hearing. I’m really grateful to her for guiding me in that way, and I’ve tried to function that way myself as an educator.

IMG_2020A student drawing hung in the hallway at PrattMWP.

IMG_2017A student painting near a stairwell.

IMG_2023A fantastic student figure study.

IMG_2024I remember doing drawings just like this while at PrattMWP in the late ’90s.

Though I couldn’t access some of the most important rooms – Printmaking, Painting, Drawing – where my skills were developed and my imagination first fired, I was able to roam those halls again. To climb the steps, feel the air, and see again the views through those windows. Sure, I’m sentimental; we all are, if we’re honest.

I couldn’t have known the adventure I was starting there at MWPAI 18 years ago. Getting to walk around the place 18 years later is gratifying. I’m grateful.

The Teacher (Ms Sharyn Hyatt-Wade)

Photo Mar 18, 8 11 39 AMThe Teacher (Ms Sharyn Hyatt-Wade), Pastel on Black Paper, 30 by 22 inches, 2014.

Sharyn Hyatt-Wade is synonymous with engaged, passionate teaching here in Mid Missouri. If you ask any of her former students, you’ll hear no end of what this woman has brought to her classrooms over the years. Though she recently retired from teaching high school art after many years, she’s currently a part of the faculty at the University of Missouri. Now she’s working with our Art Ed graduate students to help shape them into the sorts of educators who make real impacts on kids’ lives. Too often public education is about the bottom line: teaching to the test to obtain granular data for the administrative types who allocate funds. Teachers like Sharyn live far beyond that simple concept; they aim to change lives, validate individual experiences, and advocate for student-based successes.

Sharyn’s power and exuberance are kinetic and contagious. She has an uncanny ability to get other people around her on board with her almost instantaneously. She’s a true leader and lover of people. I’m so thankful she’s in our community and is still giving of herself to bring better educational opportunities to everyone. What an amazing career she’s had. What a huge impact. Thanks, Sharyn.

~

If you’re a former student of Sharyn – at any level, in any capacity – I’d love to hear your thoughts. Share them in the comments below if you want to!

Opening at Cade Center for Fine Arts at Anne Arundel

Today I had the great pleasure of giving two talks (Meaning in Objects and Trajectories) to students and others at Anne Arundel just outside of Baltimore, MD. The turnout and response were wonderful; it was especially nice to have my father in law Steve and brother in law Daniel attend the main talk for moral support!

Tonight, the show I curated here – Subject and Subjectivity – will have an opening reception. To celebrate this I’m going to post a few pictures of the work below. It really is astounding and humbling to get to have my work on walls with people I’ve admired, shown to students, and studied for so many years. Artists like Catherine Kehoe, Anne Harris, and David Campbell have been in my head for a decade. It’s wonderful to have put the show together, to see their surfaces and handiwork, and – beyond all of that – to have my show be associated with a sister exhibition at St John’s College: A Lineage of American Perceptual Painters, curated by Matt Klos (who has work in my show). These two exhibitions, happening just 15 minutes away from each other, are a painter’s goldmine. If you’re in the area, come see them!

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imageDetail of work by Erin Raedeke

imageDetail of work by Catherine Kehoe

imageDetail of work by Matt Klos

imageDetail of work by Christian Ramirez

imageDetail of work by David Jewell

imageDetail of work by Anne Harris

imageDetail of work by David Campbell

imagePanorama of the main room of the exhibition.

 

Exhibition info:

A Lineage of American Perceptual Painters,
The Mitchell Gallery
St John’s College
60 Campus Avenue
Annapolis, MD 21401
Running through March 1, 2015

Subject and Subjectivity
The Cade Center for Fine Arts
Ann Arundel Community College
101 College Parkway
Arnold, MD 21012-1895
Running thought February 26, 2015

~

Many thanks to all who made this possible, especially the artists:

Anne Harris

David Jewell

Catherine Kehoe

Matt Klos

John Lee

Aaron Lubrick

Carolyn Pyfrom

Erin Raedeke

Christian Ramirez

Brian Rego

Megan Schaffer

Shannon Soldner

Peter Van Dyck

~

 

First of 15

2015 is already shaping up to be a year full of potential for Art Stuff!

~ I was part of the jury for the True/False Film Fest exhibition that will take place this month at Imago. Titled The Long Now this exhibition follows the theme of True/False this year. Click the image for more info.

Postcard

~ After the The Long Now exhibition comes down, I’ll be in a show at Imago with Jennifer Ann Wiggs and Chris Fletcher, two local artists I admire and respect. It should be fun – I’ll be exhibiting some of my digitally-based work for the first time!

harris-f_gdetailAnne Harris – figure/ground (detail)

~ A show I’m organizing and curating at Anne Arnudel’s John A. Cade Center for the Arts Gallery in Maryland opens on the 26th. I’ll be giving a talk there on the 28th concerning the topic of “Subject and Subjectivity” in regards to contemporary representational painting. I am pleased to note that two of my artistic heroines – Anne Harris and Catherine Kehoe – have agreed to be in the exhibition. It’s blowing me away to think I’ll be sharing space with these two great painters, not to mention the likes of David Campbell, Erin Raedeke, and the others I’ve invited to this exhibition.

Campbell-Death_TransmissionDavid Campbell – Death Transmission

Exhibition Information:

Title: Subject and subjectivity: a selection of perceptual paintings
Curated by Matt Ballou (University of Missouri). Organized by Matt Ballou and Matt Klos (Anne Arnudel)

Dates:

January 26-February 26, 2015
John A. Cade Gallery at Anne Arundel Community College

January 16-February 27, 2016
WIU Gallery – Western Illinois University

Other venues are also considering this exhibition.

1-img_0774Kat Arft – Mourning the Death

~ In May Kat Arft and I have a show together at the Craft Studio Gallery at the University of Missouri. Entitled Four Large Drawings, the exhibition will feature some pretty massive drawings; heights and widths 6 or 7 or 8 feet. Should be awesome.

~ Finally, my first foray into online teaching took place this past semester, and now work is being done to quantify what really happened. There was some mixed success – and my class has been approved to run again next fall – but I have been collaborating with a PhD candidate, Catherine Friel, who is an Academic Technology Liaison at ET@Mizzou to get some hard data about how the online course worked in comparison to my standard face-to-face classes. Some have wondered – myself included – whether students can learn drawing in an online environment. At some point soon I’ll go over some of what we’ve learned and I’ll share my perspective on delivering fundamental drawing concepts over ye olde interwebz.

videoclassMe, “delivering fundamental drawing concepts over ye olde interwebz” in 2014.

Anyway, here’s to 2015!