23 September 2009

Writing at the Met

Last night I pulled out my new issue of Smithsonian and flipped through it to find a short article before I turned in for the night. Hadrian's Wall almost had me. I perused the pictures and thought longingly of making the trek across England myself. When I turned the page, which happened to be the end of the article, I found myself taken away from the English countryside and pulled into Amy Herman's workshop at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The article was called Teaching Cops to See. I love art and the museums which display it in all its diversity. I also love to read mysteries and police procedurals, not to mention that I like writing mysteries. So Hadrian's Wall lost me (for the moment) and Amy Herman had my full attention.

The article was all about a workshop that Herman developed which was designed to help people pay closer attention to detail and analyze what they see as a means of having a better understanding of whatever work of art/situation they are facing. The police officers were there to hone their observation skills. As part of the training the officers were to look at a painting and tell each other what they saw without the use of words like 'clearly' or 'obviously'. For, as Herman said, "what's obvious to you may not be obvious to someone else." (http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/Teaching-Cops-to-See.html)

By the end of the workshop officers were paired up and seated so only one of them could see the art. The officer who was facing the picture had to describe it to his/her partner. I can't say I always agreed with their perception of the scenes they viewed - according to what the article reported, they seemed to think that if the subject was drinking from a cup it would be coffee if there wasn't a spoon or a teapot in sight. No spoon/teapot=coffee. I hope their conversation didn't end where the article left it, what a loss it would be to the possibilities. But the ideas expressed about her workshop made very good points and I couldn't help but liken them to writing.

This high attention to detail was also stressed while I was at college. I remember one of my professors showing a seminar room full of grad students a photograph of some nuns in front of a building. We were supposed to tell her everything we could about the picture by observing the details of the photograph. The structure was built up off the ground as if to keep out water or ground animals. The landscape looked dry and had sparse vegetation. And the habits the nuns wore gave us the information we needed to determine their order.

Having a high attention to detail comes in handy whether you're trying to determine what happened at a crime scene or trying to fit a single photograph of a group of nuns into a geographical and/or historical context. Herman's exercises sound like a great way to train the mind to develop and use that skill.

What does all this have to do with writing? Well, anybody who spends much time with me and the subject of writing, knows that I like to use art as a writing prompt. Photographs, pictures, headlines, music, poetry - you name it. It all sets my brain in motion, wondering what might be behind it. What story lies hidden? There are a million stories that could be behind any one work. That's why I love art - it speaks to everyone differently, but everybody's right about how it makes them feel and what it says to them. I love feeling the emotion art brings rushing into me and the way it invites my imagination to run wild with possibilities.

The exercises Herman had the officers participate in would also be excellent for writers. After all, how many times do we see a scene or a character clearly in our minds? Then we put it all down on paper for the reader, who obviously will see what we saw because of the brilliant words we've chosen - right?

Sorry, wrong.

Before we can hope that we're conveying the information to our readers we need to first, observe - make sure that we are really seeing everything there is to see. If the writer misses something, there's no way the reader will be able to pick up on it.

Secondly, build the scene on paper - once we are sure that we've really studied the scene or the character we must be sure to convey it in a way that the reader will be able to pick up on the details, particularly the ones that will prove important later in the novel, without being bored by an inventory. This doesn't mean that we have to indicate the importance the objects in question. We don't have to give everything away all at once. (Maybe no one notices that the label on the prescription bottle has been tampered with until chapter seven, but we'll still want to show that the bottle is present, among other things at the scene, in chapter two.)

Thirdly, evaluate - take as step back and let the scene sit. Why not wait until you finish writing the first draft. Give yourself some space from it, then come back and look at it with fresh eyes. Have someone else read it critically too. See if what emerged from your mind became a vivid image or not. If you find some problems, look at each one from all angles. Sometimes it's not what you've said, but how you've said it that is the problem. Don't let the language get in the way. Anyone's who's written much has had a sentence or a phrase that they’ve absolutely loved. It might be beautiful or witty, but does it add to the clarity of your work or detract from it? Maybe neither, in which case you have to determine if it serves any purpose at all. If not, maybe it's just superfluous and should be cut.

Wouldn't it be great to further hone our craft so that we could do a better job at passing the story on to our readers? I think that the methods used in Herman’s workshop would be ideal to help writers improve upon the skill they already have. In our writing we can only hope to convey the story as well as we can see it or understand it ourselves. If we are lacking, then our readers will be too.

I think I'm going to try it out. I'll go to an art museum and find a painting or a photograph to look at and then describe it on paper. Hopefully those written scenes will be something that another person will be able to read and form a picture of in their mind. Wow, and what a great weekend to try to do it. This Saturday is Museum Day! So go to Smithsonian’s website, find a participating museum near you and print out a free pass. Enjoy the arts and work on your writing at the same time. And maybe next spring I'll find myself writing at the Met!

Have a wonderful Museum Day!

2 comments:

Berry said...

A very interesting concept to take that workshop and apply it to your writing. I enjoyed reading your words and can't wait until Wednesday night when we can get into our writing!

Elizabeth Mueller said...

Hi Lizzie-miss you!


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