Today I’m making an announcement about the future of this channel, and in the process
I’m going to tell you what I’ve learned after spending the last six years making more
than 200 videos about art and art history on YouTube.
And I’m going to be more honest about it than I probably should.
One thing I’ve learned is that I have vocal fry.
Some people complain about this in the comments.
But just as many or more people tell me they find my voice comforting.
Now this may sound trivial, but it’s related to a much more important thing I’ve learned:
None of us who are in front of the camera and delivering content are neutral, even if
we try.
With a topic as subjective as art, I’ve felt like I’ve needed to be the one voicing
the content that I’ve written.
Many people assist in researching our videos, there are very talented directors and editors
who play a huge role in shaping them, and a number of others work behind the scenes.
But it’s been me deciding what the videos are about, writing scripts, choosing who we’re
going to talk to, selecting the images you see, and standing behind opinions when they’re
offered.
With the support of PBS and the production company I work with, Complexly, I’ve had
the freedom to explore the art and ideas that I think are the most relevant to our time,
and also the ability to listen to what you think, respond to it, and generate new content
about that.
I don’t actually enjoy being on camera, but individual, authentic voices have always
been at the core of what makes YouTube great.
And I’ve been glad to be able to lend my own voice in the hopes of making art and art
history more accessible.
Over time, I’ve learned to appreciate the specificity of my own point of view, but also
its limitations.
I’m a person who’s more interested in art from the 1960s than the 1560s.
I have a deeper background in art from North America than South America.
Making this channel has been a hugely rewarding way to stretch beyond my formal education
and natural inclinations.
But any channel on YouTube--and indeed any experience--is shaped by bias and perspective,
both the content itself and the way that each of us interprets and responds to it.
The fact that my voice sounds grating to some and comforting to others is a reminder of
that.
I’ve also learned that these biases are often reinforced by the recommendation algorithms
that govern the platforms we frequent.
Whether we want to or not, we citizens of the Internet work in collaboration with these
algorithms to curate information feeds for ourselves.
And even if our feeds feel objective, they never are.
The Art Assignment isn't and has never been the history of art, or an introduction to
the art world.
It has always been my history of art, and a glimpse into my art world.
I hope that's been part of what makes it good, but it is also part of what makes it limited,
subjective, and necessarily incomplete.
The more videos we make, the more aware I am of the vast amount we haven’t covered.
Trying to make content on this platform that is both educational and also clickable can
be a challenging task with many pitfalls.
We’ve used what I think of as a buckshot technique, making a huge variety of kinds
and formats of episodes to see what might possibly stick.
In doing so, we’ve discovered that more people click on names of art movements they’ve
alr eady heard of, artworks they’ve seen before, and already famous artists, mostly
male.
More people watch when I do a hot take about those rare moments when art hits the wider
news, like a Banksy stunt, or a banana duct-taped to a wall.
I’ve also learned what YouTube viewers are less likely to click on, which is artists
they’ve never heard of, artworks they haven’t seen before, and topics that don’t court
controversy or outrage.
This says something about the YouTube algorithm, but it also says something about what kinds
of information we're all drawn to online.
Who wants to watch an educational video when you can watch the Try Guys eat 400 dumplings?
Seriously, I just watched it, it’s great.
But because I know what tends to get clicked on more and watched for longer stretches,
I’ve been more likely to try to serve that to you.
Not all the time, of course.
But even when served in moderation, that’s not really good for art history.
It reinforces dominant narratives and offers up the same boring old menu of famous artists
again and again.
However, I’ve also learned that you all are willing to dive down lesser known and
unexpected rabbit holes of research, and bear with me as I simultaneously cook poorly and
attempt to understand the eating and cooking lives of artists.
You’ve taught me you’re willing to reconsider art and artists you didn’t think you liked.
And you’ve tried approaches to art that are far outside of your comfort zones, and
made beautiful and vulnerable work in response.
You’ve tackled really difficult questions with me, and been willing to linger in gray
zones and leave questions unanswered.
I mean we’ve never even established a definition of art on this channel!
Because of your capacity for the abstract and lesser known, we’ve been able to keep
going all these years.
And with the incomparable backing of PBS, we’ve been able to make content not just
for the most people possible, but for an open-minded and discerning audience like you.
But here’s the thing: I’m exhausted.
That burnout that seems to eventually reach everybody on Youtube has crept up on me, too.
I’ve decided to listen to the voice in my head that’s been telling me for a while
that it’s time to take a break and refill the creative tank.
We have a couple more videos in production that I’m excited to share in the coming
weeks, but then we’re going to be stepping back for a while.
You’ll still find me on social media, and I’m planning on putting out new videos on
this channel every now and then.
But I’m going to be devoting more of my time to thinking more slowly about what art
history and art education could and should look like in 2020 and beyond.
I’m looking forward to doing the things I’m already doing--reading, researching,
looking at art, making art, and talking to people-- but not on a biweekly production
timeline.
And I’ll still be out promoting the trove of existing videos on this channel and the
assignments that will be here for you on YouTube and in the book You Are an Artist.
These past six years of making The Art Assignment have been an amazing ride.
We’ve taken you with us to many places around the world, introduced you to a wide range
of inspiring artists, and presented you with a broad array of art and ideas.
What we’ve started here, I’ll be continuing on other platforms and out in the world.
The Art Assignment is a youtube channel, but it’s also much more than that.
It’s a wide-ranging initiative that seeks new ways to present art and art history through
the lens of what’s happening today.
And I’m excited to see where it takes me next.
I am so grateful for this channel’s incredible audience, and the many different communities
that have been with us along the way.
There are plenty of toxic spaces on the internet, but ours has been one of thoughtfulness and
generosity.
Most of the time.
While I’m critical of YouTube, I also love it, and it’s been an extreme pleasure to
engage in serious and meaningful discussions with you.
What does your art world look like that’s not reflected in the arts content you see?
What does your art history look like, and what do you think it should look like in the
future?
I want to know.
Thanks to all of our patrons for supporting the art assignment, especially our grandmasters
of the arts David Golden and Divideby Zero Collection.