The First Week
I thought this was going to be a walk in the park, I really did. Or at least, a course one could indulge in, at one's own leisure, visiting art museums, sipping wine at a gallery opening, wandering into little design studios. Not a course which would be demanding 8 hours of self-study and research for each subject undertaken.
After the second lecture of the week, I started to sit up and do my maths. It was beginning to look a tad worrying. But at least the first 2 courses were subjects I was familiar with in my past life, law/ethics, management/organisation type subjects.
The 3rd lecture was the only morning lecture I have this semester, so I get up earlier than usual and make my way to school. I didn't realise what I had signed up for was Art after 1990. I didn't realise that was the definition of "after postmodernism". It was an interesting lecture, it was the first subject which was almost completely unfamiliar to me. I felt a little out of it, swimming in an unknown sea, being tossed by the waves, feeling the rip. But it was at the same time, it was exciting. But a whole lot of research laid in front of me, trying to get into the whole "pomo" stuff in double quick time.
The last lecture was on writing. I thought it was going to be not too difficult, after all, I spent my entire career writing. "Not too difficult" doesn't really describe it. What is involved seems like a big production. We are expected to write letters to the editor, articles, interview analyses relating to the big Biennale coming up in June, and edit one another's works and then publish the whole lot in an online art magazine. Apparently, this art magazine is often quoted in other works, and articles in there, survive a pretty tenacious lifespan. Hence, be careful what you write. Sounds like a daunting project. Deadlines, copies, print!
Life has come full circle. In my undergrad days, I avoided the library like the plague. I would rather spend my time more fruitfully, indulging my artistic tendencies (perhaps that was what they were) playing "Pictionary" in the foyer. In my final year, I signed up for more than my fair share of "ice-cream" duty, tending to the ice-cream stall we had (intended to raise funds for the graduating class concert), dishing out big dollops of ice-cream for favourite customers. Now as a post grad student, I am almost a permanent inhabitant of the library, stuck to the computer like a Siamese twin. Indeed life has come a full circle.
After the second lecture of the week, I started to sit up and do my maths. It was beginning to look a tad worrying. But at least the first 2 courses were subjects I was familiar with in my past life, law/ethics, management/organisation type subjects.
The 3rd lecture was the only morning lecture I have this semester, so I get up earlier than usual and make my way to school. I didn't realise what I had signed up for was Art after 1990. I didn't realise that was the definition of "after postmodernism". It was an interesting lecture, it was the first subject which was almost completely unfamiliar to me. I felt a little out of it, swimming in an unknown sea, being tossed by the waves, feeling the rip. But it was at the same time, it was exciting. But a whole lot of research laid in front of me, trying to get into the whole "pomo" stuff in double quick time.
The last lecture was on writing. I thought it was going to be not too difficult, after all, I spent my entire career writing. "Not too difficult" doesn't really describe it. What is involved seems like a big production. We are expected to write letters to the editor, articles, interview analyses relating to the big Biennale coming up in June, and edit one another's works and then publish the whole lot in an online art magazine. Apparently, this art magazine is often quoted in other works, and articles in there, survive a pretty tenacious lifespan. Hence, be careful what you write. Sounds like a daunting project. Deadlines, copies, print!
Life has come full circle. In my undergrad days, I avoided the library like the plague. I would rather spend my time more fruitfully, indulging my artistic tendencies (perhaps that was what they were) playing "Pictionary" in the foyer. In my final year, I signed up for more than my fair share of "ice-cream" duty, tending to the ice-cream stall we had (intended to raise funds for the graduating class concert), dishing out big dollops of ice-cream for favourite customers. Now as a post grad student, I am almost a permanent inhabitant of the library, stuck to the computer like a Siamese twin. Indeed life has come a full circle.
posted by Bo-Bo Gal at 2:27 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home