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Old In Art School: A Memoir of Starting Over
A finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, this memoir of one woman's later in life career change is “a smart, funny and compelling case for going after your heart's desires, no matter your age” ( Essence ). Following her retirement from Princeton University, celebrated historian Dr. Nell Irvin Painter surprised everyone in her life by returning to school--in her sixties--to earn a BFA and MFA in painting. In Old in Art School , she travels from her beloved Newark to the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design; finds meaning in the artists she loves, even as she comes to understand how they may be undervalued; and struggles with the unstable balance between the pursuit of art and the inevitable, sometimes painful demands of a life fully lived. How are women and artists seen and judged by their age, looks, and race? What does it mean when someone says, “You will never be an artist”? Who defines what an artist is and all that goes with such an identity, and how are these ideas tied to our shared conceptions of beauty, value, and difference? Bringing to bear incisive insights from two careers, Painter weaves a frank, funny, and often surprising tale of her move from academia to art in this "glorious achievement--bighearted and critical, insightful and entertaining. This book is a cup of courage for everyone who wants to change their lives" (Tayari Jones, author of An American Marriage ).
352 pages, Paperback
First published June 19, 2018
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6283 people want to read
About the author
Nell Irvin Painter
19 books400 followersNell Irvin Painter is an American historian notable for her works on southern history of the nineteenth century. She is retired from Princeton University, and served as president of the Organization of American Historians. She also served as president of the Southern Historical Association.
She was born Nell Irvin to Dona and Frank E. Irvin, Sr. She had an older brother Frank who died young. Her family moved from Houston, Texas, to Oakland, California when she was ten weeks old. This was part of the second wave of the Great Migration of millions of African Americans from the Deep South to urban centers. Some of their relatives had been in California since the 1920s. The Irvins went to California in the 1940s with the pull of increasing jobs in the defense industry. Nell attended the Oakland Public Schools.
Her mother Dona Irvin held a degree from Houston College for Negroes (1937), and later taught in the public schools of Oakland. Her father had to drop out of college in 1937 during the Great Depression; he eventually trained for work as a laboratory technician. He worked for years at the University of California at Berkeley, where he trained many students in lab techniques.
Painter earned her B.A. - Anthropology at the University of California at Berkeley in 1964. During her undergraduate years, she studied French medieval history at the University of Bordeaux, France, 1962–63. She also studied abroad at the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ghana, 1965–66. In 1967, she completed an M.A. at the University of California at Los Angeles. In 1974, she earned an M.A. and Ph.D. at Harvard University. She returned to study and earned a B.F.A. at Rutgers University in 2009. Painter has received honorary degrees from Dartmouth College, Wesleyan University, and Yale University, among other institutions.
In 1989, Painter married the mathematician Glenn Shafer, co-creator of the Dempster–Shafer theory.
(from Wikipedia)
She was born Nell Irvin to Dona and Frank E. Irvin, Sr. She had an older brother Frank who died young. Her family moved from Houston, Texas, to Oakland, California when she was ten weeks old. This was part of the second wave of the Great Migration of millions of African Americans from the Deep South to urban centers. Some of their relatives had been in California since the 1920s. The Irvins went to California in the 1940s with the pull of increasing jobs in the defense industry. Nell attended the Oakland Public Schools.
Her mother Dona Irvin held a degree from Houston College for Negroes (1937), and later taught in the public schools of Oakland. Her father had to drop out of college in 1937 during the Great Depression; he eventually trained for work as a laboratory technician. He worked for years at the University of California at Berkeley, where he trained many students in lab techniques.
Painter earned her B.A. - Anthropology at the University of California at Berkeley in 1964. During her undergraduate years, she studied French medieval history at the University of Bordeaux, France, 1962–63. She also studied abroad at the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ghana, 1965–66. In 1967, she completed an M.A. at the University of California at Los Angeles. In 1974, she earned an M.A. and Ph.D. at Harvard University. She returned to study and earned a B.F.A. at Rutgers University in 2009. Painter has received honorary degrees from Dartmouth College, Wesleyan University, and Yale University, among other institutions.
In 1989, Painter married the mathematician Glenn Shafer, co-creator of the Dempster–Shafer theory.
(from Wikipedia)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 397 reviews
July 4, 2018
There are many things to love about Old in Art School. The whole idea of someone going art school at the age of 64 is amazing, and Painter definitely provides a detailed sense of the experience for those of us who've never been (nor, in fact, even know someone who's been). Sadly, I believe her that art school is just as sexist, racist, ageist, and wedded to arbitrary trends as she describes here; why would it be different from the rest of the world?!? But as Painter tried to figure out her place in this world, her thought process and creative process were fascinating to me and satisfying to read about. Weirdly, I also really loved her portrait of New Jersey. Here in Philadelphia we obviously have a close, sibling-like relationship with New Jersey, but I've rarely been across the bridge (why would I? I mean really), so it was great to be immersed in it along with someone who very clearly loves it. It grounds the book in reality in a very vivid and effective way.
Painter is a highly accomplished historian who's written several other books, but this is her first for a true general audience, and it kind of shows: Each chapter has a set theme, but within the chapters she tends to meander, as if she's sitting with you telling you stories. Ordinarily this sort of writing bugs me a bit, but I think Painter has earned the right to write this way. She's been around a while and she has a lot of experience, insight, and wisdom to share. She does this with humor and verve, and I was more than happy to give her my full attention.
Painter is a highly accomplished historian who's written several other books, but this is her first for a true general audience, and it kind of shows: Each chapter has a set theme, but within the chapters she tends to meander, as if she's sitting with you telling you stories. Ordinarily this sort of writing bugs me a bit, but I think Painter has earned the right to write this way. She's been around a while and she has a lot of experience, insight, and wisdom to share. She does this with humor and verve, and I was more than happy to give her my full attention.
July 23, 2018
Although I could empathize with the author's plight, her unrealistic expectations became tedious and her entitled attitude annoying. She somehow assumed that her brilliant career as an academic should have translated into automatic respect in a totally different field - as if a prize winning chemist took a musical theatre course and expected to be hired by the Met. I know academia encourages tunnel vision, and Ivy League membership can foster a superiority complex but - how could she have such a huge lack of insight about herself?
She should have quit while she was ahead (after her BFA) and started painting, instead of plowing resentfully through a RISD MFA for its prestige value, and then writing a book complaining about it. She would have been happier and saved us all a lot of exasperation.
On the other hand, maybe her journey was never about art making at all.
She should have quit while she was ahead (after her BFA) and started painting, instead of plowing resentfully through a RISD MFA for its prestige value, and then writing a book complaining about it. She would have been happier and saved us all a lot of exasperation.
On the other hand, maybe her journey was never about art making at all.
July 7, 2018
This one took a while—in addition to her storyline, Painter offers up a lot of interesting digressions about the art world and art world politics, so the narrative isn't always straightforwardly propulsive. I found myself—and this is a good thing—stopping to look up artists she mentioned, for one thing. Plus she has a quirky writing style that pushes back as much as it pulls you in. But it works, and I ended up liking this very much. The voice is a surprise at first, but it’s as unique as her art, and communicates her heart and mind as effectively.
I enjoyed being along on that journey with her, from eager artist to disillusioned graduate student dealing with a multitude of outsider statuses—female, black, over 60, out of sync with art world hip (marked, among other things, by a love of incorporating history and text into her work), with a firmly established non-art career already under her belt (Painter was a tenured, well-published professor of history at Princeton), and the caretaker of elderly parents—to a truly adventurous artist who believes in her own voice, her own hand, and her own old self. If my description of it sounds sunshiney, the book is decidedly not. But it’s affirming, maybe especially for those of us who aspire to make art in the face of the rest of life, or just to give fewer fucks. There’s a lot of incidentally good art history slipped in, and some good description of techniques, as well. This is a genuinely outside-the-lines memoir, and I’m so pleased it is.
I enjoyed being along on that journey with her, from eager artist to disillusioned graduate student dealing with a multitude of outsider statuses—female, black, over 60, out of sync with art world hip (marked, among other things, by a love of incorporating history and text into her work), with a firmly established non-art career already under her belt (Painter was a tenured, well-published professor of history at Princeton), and the caretaker of elderly parents—to a truly adventurous artist who believes in her own voice, her own hand, and her own old self. If my description of it sounds sunshiney, the book is decidedly not. But it’s affirming, maybe especially for those of us who aspire to make art in the face of the rest of life, or just to give fewer fucks. There’s a lot of incidentally good art history slipped in, and some good description of techniques, as well. This is a genuinely outside-the-lines memoir, and I’m so pleased it is.
July 3, 2018
Nell Painter didn't give me what I was looking for. I expected a smoother ride -- gentle acceptance, a coherent story. But instead Painter shows her brain raw -- from elation to anger to irritation, to contentment ... and finally to an MFA from Rhode Island School of Design. This is a retired eminent professor willing to reveal her cussing interior monologue as she accomplishes what many advised her not to do.
I learned:
some art terms -- polypropylene paper, formalism
artists to explore -- Amy Sillman, Dana Schutz, Jackie Gendel
techniques -- collograph, transcription
I also learned:
Be serious.
Make lots of work.
Don't ever stop.
... and I learned I don't want to go to art school.
I learned:
some art terms -- polypropylene paper, formalism
artists to explore -- Amy Sillman, Dana Schutz, Jackie Gendel
techniques -- collograph, transcription
I also learned:
Be serious.
Make lots of work.
Don't ever stop.
... and I learned I don't want to go to art school.
April 30, 2021
An often recommended means of preventing mental decline due to aging is to learn and do something new and different. Nell Painter, the author this book, is a rather dramatic example of an older person doing something new. At age 64 after a successful academic career—professor of U.S. history, bestselling author, recipient of honorary degrees—she decided to go to art school. For an accomplished black woman like her to go back through the rigors of undergraduate school and then moving on to earning an MFA must have seemed akin to starting over.
This book is a combination memoir of her experiences as an older person in art school combined with a discussion of the world of art. Being an older person, more than her race, was her "defining characteristic" in her relationships with fellow students. In discussion of the art world she mulls over the usual questions such as "what is art," or more specially "what is good art." In her case the question include whether her art was "African American art," and is that different from "American art."
I'll acknowledge that I as a reader am sensitive to suggestions that art pleasing to the untutored eye is by definition "bad art." Consequently, I enjoyed the memoir portion of the narrative more than the discussion of art.
The author faced a challenge common to people her age, but probably unusual for the younger students, that of responding to the needs of aging parents living on the opposite side of the country. The eventual deaths of her parents are also recounted in this book.
Her background and career as historian were still part of her and inevitably influenced her art. I found it interesting how difficult she found it to articulate in words how her historian self was related to her artist self. She spends most of a chapter describing her struggle to put it into words. She eventually explains it as follows:
So how does the author feel about herself now as an artist? Near the end of the book she says the following:
This book is a combination memoir of her experiences as an older person in art school combined with a discussion of the world of art. Being an older person, more than her race, was her "defining characteristic" in her relationships with fellow students. In discussion of the art world she mulls over the usual questions such as "what is art," or more specially "what is good art." In her case the question include whether her art was "African American art," and is that different from "American art."
I'll acknowledge that I as a reader am sensitive to suggestions that art pleasing to the untutored eye is by definition "bad art." Consequently, I enjoyed the memoir portion of the narrative more than the discussion of art.
The author faced a challenge common to people her age, but probably unusual for the younger students, that of responding to the needs of aging parents living on the opposite side of the country. The eventual deaths of her parents are also recounted in this book.
Her background and career as historian were still part of her and inevitably influenced her art. I found it interesting how difficult she found it to articulate in words how her historian self was related to her artist self. She spends most of a chapter describing her struggle to put it into words. She eventually explains it as follows:
In my history books I have already had my say in clear language and discursive meaning about community. Now what history means to me in images is freedom from coherence, clarity, and collective representation. My images carry their own visual meaning, which may or may not explicate history usefully or unequivocally. For me now, image works as particularity, not as generalization. That is how art school changed my thinking about history and how visual art set me free. (p.604)This book began by recalling an art instructor who communicated the following to her:
You may show your work.I can't help but be shocked at such negativity from an instructor. I was relieved that the author replied, "Henry, that's bullshit." Was that the instructor's way of challenging a prospective artist to prove him wrong? (I wonder if Nell Painter asked permission to use his name in the book.)
You may have a gallery.
You may sell your work.
You may have collectors.
But you will never be an artist.
Why not? Because I lacked an essential component, some ineffable inner quality necessary to truly be An Artist. (p.26)
So how does the author feel about herself now as an artist? Near the end of the book she says the following:
I am a wise old person, not a hot young artist, not a young anybody with a young anybody's future before me. I know the value of doing my work, my work, and keeping at it. I do keep at it—in the pleasure of the process of making the art only I can make.
Serious artists? Yes. I make and show my work regularly. Professional artist? Yes, I get paid for my work. An Artist artist? Probably not, probably never, because I still do other things. Do I miss not being An Artist artist? Yes, a little. But not enough to live my life any other way. (p.344)
December 3, 2018
I don't like to rate or review books I don't like. After all, just because I didn't like a book doesn't necessarily mean you won't love it.
But I almost bought this book. I don't want you to make this mistake without fully knowing what this book is about.
If I hadn't found this book at my public library, if I had paid the full cover price of $26.00, I'd have given this book a one-star rating.
I was terribly disappointed by this book. I was expecting a story of a woman who made her way through art school after she retired from a prestigious job as a professor of history at Princeton. Instead, it's the story of one woman's fight against the deeply political beliefs in the art world. And Painter has her own deeply political beliefs.
I don't care about the deeply political beliefs in the art world. I wanted to read a story about an older person taking on a new challenge, I think, and that's not what I got.
Please remember that this is just one little person's opinion. I am not an artist. I am not a scholar. I am an ordinary person who wants to share her thoughts about a book she read.
But I almost bought this book. I don't want you to make this mistake without fully knowing what this book is about.
If I hadn't found this book at my public library, if I had paid the full cover price of $26.00, I'd have given this book a one-star rating.
I was terribly disappointed by this book. I was expecting a story of a woman who made her way through art school after she retired from a prestigious job as a professor of history at Princeton. Instead, it's the story of one woman's fight against the deeply political beliefs in the art world. And Painter has her own deeply political beliefs.
I don't care about the deeply political beliefs in the art world. I wanted to read a story about an older person taking on a new challenge, I think, and that's not what I got.
Please remember that this is just one little person's opinion. I am not an artist. I am not a scholar. I am an ordinary person who wants to share her thoughts about a book she read.
March 23, 2019
In terms of racism, ageism, and sexism in graduate art programs, I'm not sure there was anything new here. Painter's difficulties with juggling "real-life" responsibilities and grad school are also nothing new to folks going back to school later in life, and no helpful suggestions were offered. There were some parts that sounded like an art history textbook and many detailed descriptions of Painter's own work, her step by step processes, the numerous "crits," most of them negative, phone calls over & over from her elderly and ailing father, what her friends said, what her teachers said, what she said, her outrage, her exhaustion.
Painter read her own book for the audio, and her reading style reinforced her outrage. Overall, I found the book mostly tedious.
Painter read her own book for the audio, and her reading style reinforced her outrage. Overall, I found the book mostly tedious.
May 16, 2019
Let me begin with, to the author:
1) Kudos for the numerous outstanding professional and personal accomplishments
and for the many achievements she certainly has in her future.
2) Thank you for reminding me of the importance of lifelong learning. And I do mean LIFElong, not just when we reach a certain age bracket as is often conjured when using this term.
However, I can't say I liked this book.
1) I've never taken an art appreciation class or art history course. Given what I wrote above maybe I should, but that hasn't stopped me from going to museums and exhibits. I enjoy viewing art because it either speaks to me, sometimes to the core, or it doesn't. The review of artists and techniques, which I understand why it's included, frankly lost me.
2) The author states that she started this endeavor for the pleasure of it. I never got the sense that she did derive pure pleasure from it. Instead it was masochistic at most times. Her perseverance is nonetheless admirable.
3) This is the real important point, for someone who has faced judgement (real and/or perceived), she sure knows how to be judgmental. It considerably soured me that she judged with frequency and arrogance. Two examples off the top of my head are her description of the undergraduates wardrobe and attitude - lighten up and live and let? Next she described a woman as eerily white. Eerily? As in strange and frightening? Harsh much? If eerily was used on another "race" (no such thing) or ethnicity wouldn't it be received with admonishment? "Do unto others..." must be passe or something but I missed that news flash.
This book isn't meant to be divisive but it will probably be a love/hate reception.
5/16/2019 Update: I was too nice and I'm tired of being too nice. I hated this book. Listened to it on Audible on 2.5x speed and still couldn't end it fast enough. I only finished it because it is a book club selection and I always finish those selections, regrettably in this case.
1) Kudos for the numerous outstanding professional and personal accomplishments
and for the many achievements she certainly has in her future.
2) Thank you for reminding me of the importance of lifelong learning. And I do mean LIFElong, not just when we reach a certain age bracket as is often conjured when using this term.
However, I can't say I liked this book.
1) I've never taken an art appreciation class or art history course. Given what I wrote above maybe I should, but that hasn't stopped me from going to museums and exhibits. I enjoy viewing art because it either speaks to me, sometimes to the core, or it doesn't. The review of artists and techniques, which I understand why it's included, frankly lost me.
2) The author states that she started this endeavor for the pleasure of it. I never got the sense that she did derive pure pleasure from it. Instead it was masochistic at most times. Her perseverance is nonetheless admirable.
3) This is the real important point, for someone who has faced judgement (real and/or perceived), she sure knows how to be judgmental. It considerably soured me that she judged with frequency and arrogance. Two examples off the top of my head are her description of the undergraduates wardrobe and attitude - lighten up and live and let? Next she described a woman as eerily white. Eerily? As in strange and frightening? Harsh much? If eerily was used on another "race" (no such thing) or ethnicity wouldn't it be received with admonishment? "Do unto others..." must be passe or something but I missed that news flash.
This book isn't meant to be divisive but it will probably be a love/hate reception.
5/16/2019 Update: I was too nice and I'm tired of being too nice. I hated this book. Listened to it on Audible on 2.5x speed and still couldn't end it fast enough. I only finished it because it is a book club selection and I always finish those selections, regrettably in this case.
August 22, 2018
After many years of a very successful career in one discipline, it is perhaps understandable to have some pride in your accomplishments. But damn, I got tired of "how great I am".
That being said, Painter does have the proper humility of learning a new discipline. A beginning artist has to develop their eye as much as their hand. You can only get better if you have the humility to look at your work and see that it can get better (if not necessarily how - that is where good teachers and fellow artists can help). I have seen students that sadly will have a hard time progressing because they don't have that humility. I believe that is one factor in Painter's progress and why she was accepted to RISD and other later opportunities.
I did have a personal reason for reading this. I was kinda in the same boat as Painter. During my graduate school time studying for my Ph.D. in physics, I got the art bug - taking drawing classes when I could. With encouragement from my teachers, I applied to grad school in drawing/painting. So I was in a similar situation as Painter - but only in terms of an academic "outsider" going into art. I was not an older female, I was a white male the same age as my cohorts.
Much of what she relates of her time in art school is spot on - and an artist who has spent their undergrad time as an art major and identified as an artist for their whole life might not pick up on some things. It is definitely cliquey, in-fashions and in-styles rule, and teachers can be just as incompetent and opinionated as anywhere else.
However, one thing I didn't experience that Painter got from a couple of sources is the "You can never be an artist" thing. Overwhelmingly I always had support from fellow students and teachers. I could be ungracious and say that my work was better than hers, but I think that she just got some bad apples or they had some jealousy. Real artists generally don't play that game. Yes, we make judgements - it is part of the game, but it is usually not at the personal level when someone is still finding their voice.
And that is the key that makes an artist - the personal voice. When an artist is just beginning they look and become inspired by the art that they love. And those images become the standard that the beginner student tries to emulate. And fail at of course. What art school does is try to keep that inspiration while exposing the artist to all the different ways of making and looking at art. Because it is rare that an artist's mature and singular voice is totally aligned with their initial passions. For instance my mature art has little to do with Impressionism or Abstract Expressionism - but I wouldn't have gotten there without them.
Painter at the beginning doesn't know much about this "voice". Who does? This is the delicate and personal part of art making. Painter walks us through the undergrad toil that she had to do to strengthen her eye and hands - while still trying to be the kind of an artist she has imposed on herself. I loved reading when in grad school she finally found her voice - it seems like it came out of nowhere. But it was always there. When I look at my early student drawings. They are clumsy - but I see where this or that of my mature style came from. And what we see of Painter's work is the same way.
As a whole this is great portrait of an artist as they were becoming one. I do wish that it didn't have so much of her personal memoir aspects of it - her parental saga was a little too personal to me, and the academic historian aspect was a little too gratuitous. We got it that Painter was very, very, very successful in history - methinks she braggeth too much.
That being said, Painter does have the proper humility of learning a new discipline. A beginning artist has to develop their eye as much as their hand. You can only get better if you have the humility to look at your work and see that it can get better (if not necessarily how - that is where good teachers and fellow artists can help). I have seen students that sadly will have a hard time progressing because they don't have that humility. I believe that is one factor in Painter's progress and why she was accepted to RISD and other later opportunities.
I did have a personal reason for reading this. I was kinda in the same boat as Painter. During my graduate school time studying for my Ph.D. in physics, I got the art bug - taking drawing classes when I could. With encouragement from my teachers, I applied to grad school in drawing/painting. So I was in a similar situation as Painter - but only in terms of an academic "outsider" going into art. I was not an older female, I was a white male the same age as my cohorts.
Much of what she relates of her time in art school is spot on - and an artist who has spent their undergrad time as an art major and identified as an artist for their whole life might not pick up on some things. It is definitely cliquey, in-fashions and in-styles rule, and teachers can be just as incompetent and opinionated as anywhere else.
However, one thing I didn't experience that Painter got from a couple of sources is the "You can never be an artist" thing. Overwhelmingly I always had support from fellow students and teachers. I could be ungracious and say that my work was better than hers, but I think that she just got some bad apples or they had some jealousy. Real artists generally don't play that game. Yes, we make judgements - it is part of the game, but it is usually not at the personal level when someone is still finding their voice.
And that is the key that makes an artist - the personal voice. When an artist is just beginning they look and become inspired by the art that they love. And those images become the standard that the beginner student tries to emulate. And fail at of course. What art school does is try to keep that inspiration while exposing the artist to all the different ways of making and looking at art. Because it is rare that an artist's mature and singular voice is totally aligned with their initial passions. For instance my mature art has little to do with Impressionism or Abstract Expressionism - but I wouldn't have gotten there without them.
Painter at the beginning doesn't know much about this "voice". Who does? This is the delicate and personal part of art making. Painter walks us through the undergrad toil that she had to do to strengthen her eye and hands - while still trying to be the kind of an artist she has imposed on herself. I loved reading when in grad school she finally found her voice - it seems like it came out of nowhere. But it was always there. When I look at my early student drawings. They are clumsy - but I see where this or that of my mature style came from. And what we see of Painter's work is the same way.
As a whole this is great portrait of an artist as they were becoming one. I do wish that it didn't have so much of her personal memoir aspects of it - her parental saga was a little too personal to me, and the academic historian aspect was a little too gratuitous. We got it that Painter was very, very, very successful in history - methinks she braggeth too much.
July 30, 2018
I'm at 50% read and I'm abandoning reading this book. So disappointed. What began as a cheerleader to yeah! a voice for women! yeah! a voice for women of color! yeah! a voice for artists at all ages! became a whimper of sadness that it does not include a voice for women of size. Sigh. So. Very. Discouraging. I just can't get beyond the author's narrow view of what makes an artist.
Early on in the book she specifically calls out a fellow artist as fat, and whose art cannot be taken as serious. And then continues that people who are fat cannot be artists. She even points out this is at concern of fellow feminists. I hear this, and yet I continue on. And yet, I can't continue. Really? I'm so excited about so many things about this voice. It's completely inauthentic. Not inclusive. Snooty. And that which I specifically work to separate myself from. I'm shocked to write this. And yet, I was shocked to read her anti-fat narrative.
Early on in the book she specifically calls out a fellow artist as fat, and whose art cannot be taken as serious. And then continues that people who are fat cannot be artists. She even points out this is at concern of fellow feminists. I hear this, and yet I continue on. And yet, I can't continue. Really? I'm so excited about so many things about this voice. It's completely inauthentic. Not inclusive. Snooty. And that which I specifically work to separate myself from. I'm shocked to write this. And yet, I was shocked to read her anti-fat narrative.
May 28, 2019
Okay. This was not a book I could sit and read through. I skimmed, and then skimmed some more. I didn't DNF it, but I didn't really read every chapter either. The writing is very quirky and a bit hard to follow along. She writes about something and then jumps to something else without warning. There's no steady flow. She intermittently reflects on attempting to care for her ailing parents and often mentions her past writing accomplishments but doesn't connect those experiences to their value in "starting over" in art school. Nell Painter seems to be an accomplished historian and academic writer. I can definitely see the challenge of the left brain meeting the right brain when she decides to attend art school but don't feel her journey was expressed well in this book. Painter presented more as a privileged individual (which is interesting considering how often she recognized her challenges as a minority woman) who decides she wants to go back to school, in the middle of a prosperous career as an accomplished professor and writer, and is annoyed that it doesn't come easily. Her struggles are minimal and, honestly, expected for an academia moving into the creative, art world. I had a really hard time following her train of thought, as expressed in her writing but do feel I was able to get enough of a gist of the book by reading a sporadic chapter here and there.
March 2, 2019
Just as Painter questions how a single human skull can represent an entire race, you'd be wrong to assume her experiences in art school are representative of the whole. As an art school graduate, I often tell others that art school was the greatest social experiment in which I'll likely ever take part.
I grew downright weary reading of Painter's accolades, honors, and greatness -- all from her previous academic life. (She comes from a place of privilege, and does acknowledge this, thankfully.) But her attitude often came across as cold and/or cruel, especially with respect to her father. And I found it ironic when she laments being lonely, and being judged, while repeatedly judging others.
I can't in good faith recommend this.
I grew downright weary reading of Painter's accolades, honors, and greatness -- all from her previous academic life. (She comes from a place of privilege, and does acknowledge this, thankfully.) But her attitude often came across as cold and/or cruel, especially with respect to her father. And I found it ironic when she laments being lonely, and being judged, while repeatedly judging others.
I can't in good faith recommend this.
August 18, 2018
I can't recall where I came across this memoir but the synopsis of it compelled me to read it. Honestly, before I had even reached the 100-page mark, I would've given this book 3 stars. At that point, I felt that the author was getting caught up in the thick of telling us about Art History instead of her journey going to Art School in her 60s. But thankfully, the story got better, so much so that I began to appreciate her references to art history, specifically Black art and female artists. However, if you're not even remotely interested in history then you might hate this book because Nell Painter can't help talking about it; mostly because she is also a historian.
November 15, 2018
I ate this up. It doesn't hurt that I'm trying to challenge myself with new endeavors as I get closer to my 7th decade. Painter is a notable, award winning, genius historian but she goes back to the beginning for BFA and MFA in Fine Arts at the same time that she is caring for elderly parents on the other side of the country. The book reads like a journal - intimate, angry, funny. It's a ride you can't help but enjoy. She also has a lot to say about race and art school - all of it fascinating and she sent me to internet numerous times to look up artists I wasn't familiar with.
Marvelous book.
Marvelous book.
November 16, 2018
I learned more from than this book than I actually enjoyed reading it. I learned about some amazing artists I was ashamed I hadn't heard more of. Sometimes I thought this book was written for a certain audience - mainly people who are familiar with art school and academia. Sometimes I decided it wasn't. Ultimately I feel this is a greatly important book because it challenged me in many ways. Nell Irvin Painter is an incredible, talented and resilient woman and we need more voices like hers.
November 2, 2018
Couldn’t finish. Narcissistic
November 16, 2019
And on her first day, a fellow student asks “How old are you?” randomly, blatantly, honestly. Agog at the sixty-four reply, Painter is made more aware of her oddity. A class of freshmen students, age appropriate, and herself. Grandmotherly in a flock of direction-seeking sheep. Day one. Onward!
But here, being a black female that is also older than the norm, she has his the trifecta of ismisms: race, sex, age. All she needs is a disability and it’s a royal flush of disregard. But having a mother who broke from established expectations and started her own writing career in her later 60’s, it gave Painter a template of chutzpah to be herself, unfiltered, unrestrained.
The backstory of how her family set the stage for her aria, there is much emphasis on the sad hindrance of race. Then we get the paragraphs of all her extensive accomplishments, awards and accolades. Initially a writer of history, she finds herself ruminating over early days of drawing and is pulled back into that realm. Onward to college and her degrees therein.
We spend some time with her in Newark, reminiscing on neighbors and events. Take a few classes with her at Rutgers, meeting a few of her classmates and teachers. She mentions numerous artists, from which she draws both admiration and frustration, citing the why’s of the what’s.
Mixing in some humor (as when she compares walking into an art supply store to entering a vagina, inviting and sensuous) she trudges through classes while holding down outside duties and trying to complete a book she’d been writing. Supported by her husband, she at least had that relief.
Onto Mason Gross. Feeling a bit more sure of herself, she readily doles out the snark on artists she is less fond of. (She may have yet another career as a stand-up comedian)
Interesting how she paid tribute to female artists by copying their work, often by gridded squares, and always with admiration. Much mention of the lack of recognition given women in the art field (Hello Guerrilla Girls!)
Her chapter “Look Like An Artist” was redundant to me. Tho a frame can really set a piece for show, I never really got the artist costume. Hell, just wear what you wore when you painted the thing.... That would be a true artist attire. Still, I had to laugh at how she, so much older than her classmates, tried to look the look... despite her “Passed fuck-by date.” This really has some good laughs in it.
The chapter on not being able to draw her dying mother was touching. She and her father, at her mother’s bedside, reading Obama’s memoir aloud, which segued into a bit of politics (as does my every book club meeting) but circled back to her mother.
Onward to her time at the Rhode Island School of Design, where she rents an apartment, studio space and attains “contentment” ... albeit apart from her husband and pets. Here, again, she nods to the numerous artists who inspire her as she lolls away the hours at the Fleet Library. She creates, receives responses, shares hers, and learns. Aside from the art imbuing, she learns that no matter where or with whom, isms exist, isms interfere. (I have to wonder how her co-students & teachers felt if they read about themselves here.) It’s not long before that “contentment” is abated and she drifts alone in her graduate goals.
Everywhere she turns, it seems everyone repeats their mantra of squelching “You can not draw. You can not paint. You are not an artist!” What tenacity she had. What faith in oneself. What all out chutzpah!
And if dealing with all the perpetual negativity we’re not despairing enough, she had the constant pleas of her depressed father for her company, her time, her devotion.
But that changes. Perhaps it was recognition of her work aside as a historian, archived and praised, or the books she authored, also praised, or just her unending impetus to be taken seriously. Whatever it took, she got it at last.
But here, being a black female that is also older than the norm, she has his the trifecta of ismisms: race, sex, age. All she needs is a disability and it’s a royal flush of disregard. But having a mother who broke from established expectations and started her own writing career in her later 60’s, it gave Painter a template of chutzpah to be herself, unfiltered, unrestrained.
The backstory of how her family set the stage for her aria, there is much emphasis on the sad hindrance of race. Then we get the paragraphs of all her extensive accomplishments, awards and accolades. Initially a writer of history, she finds herself ruminating over early days of drawing and is pulled back into that realm. Onward to college and her degrees therein.
We spend some time with her in Newark, reminiscing on neighbors and events. Take a few classes with her at Rutgers, meeting a few of her classmates and teachers. She mentions numerous artists, from which she draws both admiration and frustration, citing the why’s of the what’s.
Mixing in some humor (as when she compares walking into an art supply store to entering a vagina, inviting and sensuous) she trudges through classes while holding down outside duties and trying to complete a book she’d been writing. Supported by her husband, she at least had that relief.
Onto Mason Gross. Feeling a bit more sure of herself, she readily doles out the snark on artists she is less fond of. (She may have yet another career as a stand-up comedian)
Interesting how she paid tribute to female artists by copying their work, often by gridded squares, and always with admiration. Much mention of the lack of recognition given women in the art field (Hello Guerrilla Girls!)
Her chapter “Look Like An Artist” was redundant to me. Tho a frame can really set a piece for show, I never really got the artist costume. Hell, just wear what you wore when you painted the thing.... That would be a true artist attire. Still, I had to laugh at how she, so much older than her classmates, tried to look the look... despite her “Passed fuck-by date.” This really has some good laughs in it.
The chapter on not being able to draw her dying mother was touching. She and her father, at her mother’s bedside, reading Obama’s memoir aloud, which segued into a bit of politics (as does my every book club meeting) but circled back to her mother.
Onward to her time at the Rhode Island School of Design, where she rents an apartment, studio space and attains “contentment” ... albeit apart from her husband and pets. Here, again, she nods to the numerous artists who inspire her as she lolls away the hours at the Fleet Library. She creates, receives responses, shares hers, and learns. Aside from the art imbuing, she learns that no matter where or with whom, isms exist, isms interfere. (I have to wonder how her co-students & teachers felt if they read about themselves here.) It’s not long before that “contentment” is abated and she drifts alone in her graduate goals.
Everywhere she turns, it seems everyone repeats their mantra of squelching “You can not draw. You can not paint. You are not an artist!” What tenacity she had. What faith in oneself. What all out chutzpah!
And if dealing with all the perpetual negativity we’re not despairing enough, she had the constant pleas of her depressed father for her company, her time, her devotion.
But that changes. Perhaps it was recognition of her work aside as a historian, archived and praised, or the books she authored, also praised, or just her unending impetus to be taken seriously. Whatever it took, she got it at last.
August 16, 2018
I think the value of this book, is Irwin Painter’s ability to lash out eloquently at those schools, art schools or not, who don’t treat the serious older student as “worthy.” In this case, Irwin Painter is a Professor Emeritus of History at Princeton. She is black. She is 70 years old. She weighs 170+ pounds. She wishes to go to Yale School of Art and receive her MFA. She wants to be “An Artist.” She loves words; her books have been lauded by the New York Times Book Review. But one serious problem: She can’t draw; she can’t paint. She has determination. Her parents are dying in Oakland. Her husband is helpful. In her case, I don’t know if it is a matter of completing her 10,000 hours before she applies for her MFA, but Yale rejects her. The professors at RISD despise her. One professor says “you can’t draw, you can’t paint” repeatedly. One tells her she will never be “An Artist.” She tries to balance many plates and emotions while also painting. She is the only RISD Painting MFA graduate that year to receive a degree without honors.
When the art world is turned upside down, and no one really knows what art is, then what is important? And then what are schools for? Are they to educate the young, and allow only them to benefit and grow? And what is Irwin Painter’s future? Older women have been lauded by the art world in their eighties but usually only after they have made art for 60 years. Irwin Painter explores this from every angle. She is right about the injustice, if justice means to be respected. I have felt some of this too when taking architecture classes. She includes pictures of her work in the book. Her work and her website make me cringe. Do something Interesting! What do you want to do? It is the age-old question. Can the attitudes be improved? Yes. I’m glad she wrote this book, and I hope she finds answers for herself and others who follow her lead.
When the art world is turned upside down, and no one really knows what art is, then what is important? And then what are schools for? Are they to educate the young, and allow only them to benefit and grow? And what is Irwin Painter’s future? Older women have been lauded by the art world in their eighties but usually only after they have made art for 60 years. Irwin Painter explores this from every angle. She is right about the injustice, if justice means to be respected. I have felt some of this too when taking architecture classes. She includes pictures of her work in the book. Her work and her website make me cringe. Do something Interesting! What do you want to do? It is the age-old question. Can the attitudes be improved? Yes. I’m glad she wrote this book, and I hope she finds answers for herself and others who follow her lead.
December 27, 2018
How is it after 6 years, a BFA and a MFA Painter still draws like an 8th grader? Was she just a poor drawing student or did her schools skip the basics? Whichever it was, Painter continually kids herself about this deficiency. She learns that Gerard Richter used projection. Wow, that's great! Justification for not drawing well. She is enamored with an artist who paints like a child and has had work published in the New Yorker. More righteous indignation over how Painter's own childlike scribbles "should" be appreciated. Well, despite my aggravation with her as an art student, I wound up enjoying the book. She is a very good writer and I loved reading the unvarnished truth about being a fish out of water.
June 30, 2018
At first I wasn’t taken with Painter’s memoir, it felt like she was taking too much time establishing her credentials in the world of history and academia. I am chagrined that I felt that way. As a historian, Painter is a fully realized top dog. Quiting that world at 64 to go to art school rendered her insignificant, a very difficult proposition for such an accomplished woman. There are so many stereotypes she must climb over, being old, being a woman, being financially stable and being too 20th century. Bravo for her battles with these obstacles.
I leave you with my favorite sentence....” The deaf graphite rattle of leaves in the wind.”
I leave you with my favorite sentence....” The deaf graphite rattle of leaves in the wind.”
May 31, 2019
I had high hopes for this book, sadly it was disappointing. Full disclosure, I didn’t finish the book, I gave up after chapter 15. The author is a well regarded historian, professor and author however her memoir lacked any emotion. It read very academic and I couldn’t relate to her at all.
September 19, 2018
For those who are looking for a second career, and are thinking about going back school —especially art school, or other undergraduate program that is unrelated to your current field of expertise — I highly recommend this book. I shared many of Painter's thoughts & experiences, and so in many respects, I think it is accurate reflection of what one could expect.
As someone who was also old in art school (in my 40s, a whole generation younger than when Painter was when she went back, but still older than some of my classmate’s parents), I enjoyed hearing her experience, and seeing so many similarities, both in life and in school, to my own. In particular, I thought her musings on who has a right to take up space & make art, and the privilege of being in that position, echoed many of my own thoughts.
I don't share all her thoughts on art, but I appreciated hearing her perspective. Where I went would not be considered top-tier like RISD, so it is fun to hear what that is like and the attitudes of people in the fine arts program there. (One answer: kinda snobby towards design / illustration, except when they become acceptable to the New York art world: Warhol, Maira Kalman, Ben Schahn, who she calls commercial artists instead of illustrators, a term, profession, and style for which she showed a lot of disdain. I studied illustration, so thought that was particularly funny.) Her perspective on African American art & its place in history was great, especially given her expertise. I will definitely look up the art and artists she mentioned, and her book Creating Black Americans: African-American History and Its Meanings, 1619 to the Present.
I thought it was charmingly naive that someone would leave a world where they did not feel their work was adequately appreciated to go to the *art world* -- a field that is terribly subjective, and notoriously connections-based. The ending did make me happy for her — glad she has found a happy community.
I read several reviews here that found her expounding on her success as a historian as bragging, and her annoyance over her lack of immediate success in school as a sign of entitlement. I read it differently, but on re-reading I see where that comes from. I think if written with more candor, and less like an omniscient historian (“my lying 20th century eyes”), these parts could have shown what I think she was trying to get across, or at least how I read it:
No matter what your success you have had in life, *literally zero* of that will help you in art school, at least in technique. It sounds obvious, but maybe you have to go through it for it to really sink in.
I respect Painter, someone whose success in her field few can match, for putting herself in that position. I thought she glossed over, or wasn't direct / clear enough, what must have been an extremely humbling experience. Painter did have an art background, so it is not as though she was starting at the very beginning, but I appreciated her humility in putting herself in a position where she had so much to learn; where she was criticized and found wanting; where was she unfavorably compared to people so much younger than herself; where she opened herself up to seeing things a new way (tho clearly still not perfect in this -- e.g. fat-phobic comments mentioned in other reviews); and the willingness to do the hard work (and it is hard!) a BFA entails.
On a mundane note - I was also really impressed with how casually she discussed her commute — lugging art supplies on transit is no joke!
One thing I was curious about -- I wondered how her own treatment of undergraduate and graduate students at Princeton compared to her experience as a student. Some of her gripes -- favoritism, unequal access to opportunities, jerks generally -- seem hardly unique to art school. I just wondered if her experience as a student made her reflect on education / academic mentoring generally in any way.
As someone who was also old in art school (in my 40s, a whole generation younger than when Painter was when she went back, but still older than some of my classmate’s parents), I enjoyed hearing her experience, and seeing so many similarities, both in life and in school, to my own. In particular, I thought her musings on who has a right to take up space & make art, and the privilege of being in that position, echoed many of my own thoughts.
I don't share all her thoughts on art, but I appreciated hearing her perspective. Where I went would not be considered top-tier like RISD, so it is fun to hear what that is like and the attitudes of people in the fine arts program there. (One answer: kinda snobby towards design / illustration, except when they become acceptable to the New York art world: Warhol, Maira Kalman, Ben Schahn, who she calls commercial artists instead of illustrators, a term, profession, and style for which she showed a lot of disdain. I studied illustration, so thought that was particularly funny.) Her perspective on African American art & its place in history was great, especially given her expertise. I will definitely look up the art and artists she mentioned, and her book Creating Black Americans: African-American History and Its Meanings, 1619 to the Present.
I thought it was charmingly naive that someone would leave a world where they did not feel their work was adequately appreciated to go to the *art world* -- a field that is terribly subjective, and notoriously connections-based. The ending did make me happy for her — glad she has found a happy community.
I read several reviews here that found her expounding on her success as a historian as bragging, and her annoyance over her lack of immediate success in school as a sign of entitlement. I read it differently, but on re-reading I see where that comes from. I think if written with more candor, and less like an omniscient historian (“my lying 20th century eyes”), these parts could have shown what I think she was trying to get across, or at least how I read it:
No matter what your success you have had in life, *literally zero* of that will help you in art school, at least in technique. It sounds obvious, but maybe you have to go through it for it to really sink in.
I respect Painter, someone whose success in her field few can match, for putting herself in that position. I thought she glossed over, or wasn't direct / clear enough, what must have been an extremely humbling experience. Painter did have an art background, so it is not as though she was starting at the very beginning, but I appreciated her humility in putting herself in a position where she had so much to learn; where she was criticized and found wanting; where was she unfavorably compared to people so much younger than herself; where she opened herself up to seeing things a new way (tho clearly still not perfect in this -- e.g. fat-phobic comments mentioned in other reviews); and the willingness to do the hard work (and it is hard!) a BFA entails.
On a mundane note - I was also really impressed with how casually she discussed her commute — lugging art supplies on transit is no joke!
One thing I was curious about -- I wondered how her own treatment of undergraduate and graduate students at Princeton compared to her experience as a student. Some of her gripes -- favoritism, unequal access to opportunities, jerks generally -- seem hardly unique to art school. I just wondered if her experience as a student made her reflect on education / academic mentoring generally in any way.
July 25, 2018
I don’t know why I thought I’d like this book. I’m not really an art person. I don’t really “get” “art.” I think the second act aspect is really what interested me and then I actually started reading it and realized it was actually about art. As soon as I started it I didn’t really enjoy it but I wanted to give it a fair chance, but also it’s really heavy and unwieldy to read on the train and I quickly realized I don’t really care enough about art to suffer it. When she gleefully described some kid drumming on a train on her commute and from my own commute I was thinking I would have stabbed that kid, I became increasingly sure she is not for me. Once I decided to abandon the book it became even more insufferable to read. There were also pictures of her art sprinkled throughout and I didn’t like any of it. It’s chronological so I flipped to the back in case it gets better. It does not.
TLDR: I need to stay in my lane.
TLDR: I need to stay in my lane.
August 9, 2018
I hated almost everything about this book. I expected a book about age and reinventing oneself in their later decades. Instead, it was a book about race and not being accepted as wonderful in a totally different field just because of your accomplishments elsewhere. The author came across as smug with a sense of superiority over others around her, yet at the same time severely insecure. She had little good to say about others unless they fit her boxes of "African American" or "black" or "female", not "white" or "Caucasian" or "fat" or "male". It's yet another book out there where the author goes on and on about her personal politics (Barack Obama = good, George E. Bush = bad except for being so awful that Barack Obama was able to get elected). The only reason I finished the book is because I wanted to see if it ever got any better or changed focus. It didn't.
September 19, 2018
This was the very right book for me at the very right time. I'm not changing my career or field, but I am of the age where I have (always) far more questions about art and the practice of art than I do answers. Painter's fascinating narrative of how she went back to painting (and the visual arts) after becoming one of the finest American historians in the world got under my skin...in a good way. The book is no-nonsense and idiosyncratic. It includes reproductions of Painter's art. It doesn't romanticize the creative life. It asks hard questions about age, gender, race, talent, and the value of hard work. It's given me, at least, much to think about--especially when it comes to resilience and the role of "teachers" in American graduate schools. And I am in awe of Nell Painter.
June 28, 2018
Fascinating woman who has accomplished quite a lot. Dr. Painter is a noted historian. Then in her 60s returned to school to obtain yet another advanced degree, this time an MFA.
Look carefully at the cover. At a book signing she indicated its a collage of cut up pages from her book, The History of White People.
Look carefully at the cover. At a book signing she indicated its a collage of cut up pages from her book, The History of White People.
July 11, 2018
This is a great memoir for toughing it out, and going after a goal that is what you really want, even if it is not what you do BEST. And, that's hard; it messes with your head. This book captures the conflict between her knowledge of what being an expert truly feels like (as an esteemed historian and writer), vs what being a struggling beginner in a culture that is not only different, but very capricious and at times hostile in its handout of compliments and opportunity. At first, I felt frustrated with this book, because - truthfully - I pretty much agreed with her teacher's response that you're "not an artist". And, as an electrical engineer, I am very familiar with what we called 'weed out' courses intended to push you out the door if you can't cut it. But, as the book progressed, I saw how she wove an understanding of the processes of art into her world in a way that enriched her life, and enhanced other books that she was writing as a historian. So, truly, she emerged as a emotionally richer, more fully integrated person who had honed considerable skills as an artist, if not a highly marketable painter. I changed careers, radically, at the age of 43 after 18 years in the defense sector in secure communications, to running my own business in manufactured wood products - a business that grew out of my (compensated) expertise in Victorian restoration and historic finishes. And, like Nell, there are still parts of you that are not fully resolved after the transition, even if you'd do the choice over again. And, like Nell, I also had two parents pass during the transition with all the headaches and heartache that caused. So, Nell - I feel for you!
May 8, 2021
I have such mixed feelings about this book. On the one hand, I think Painter brings up a lot of good points about what we consider to be art, and who we consider to be artists. The value we place on fine art is almost entirely dependent on whether or not we are told, by some higher authority on art, that the art is important. For instance, an abstract piece in a museum is valuable to us because of its history, it’s thoughtfulness, and more than anything, the fact that it is being shown to us in a gallery. The problem with this is that the pieces that end up in galleries and museums are largely created by artists that have the kind of influence, power, and wealth to get themselves there— making most museums full of wealthy white men’s work. I wish that Painter had focused more on this in her book, as I found it the most interesting. But throughout her memoir it felt like she was constantly reminding the reader of her accomplishments, her wealth, knowledge, and higher education, putting down her younger peers. Always reminding us that she did so much work while they slacked off, that she had done countless impressive things and that they knew so little. This worked against her other point about needing to break the barrier of what we consider “art.” She even says her education is what makes her a good artist— ignoring the fact that many cannot afford her level of education, and therefore affirming the barrier. I hope this makes sense. Overall, I appreciated that she was secure in her abilities and proud of her accomplishments, refusing to be humble even if it made her unlikable. But I felt that she missed the point she was trying to make.
October 23, 2018
I'm struggling a bit to decide what I thought of this book. I do love the idea that at 64, renowned historian Nell Painter decided to switch gears and go to art school. I made a career change in my 30s/40s--although I wasn't famous in my previous one and didn't tackle something quite as challenging--so I was cheering her on. I learned that art school is hard, and that's it's filled with ageism, sexism, and racism just like so many other institutions. The book would get bogged down in descriptions of art techniques or artists and I'd get kind of irritated, but then Painter would make a great point about race or gender or age or politics that would bring me back. She also delves into things happening with her family along the way, which she ties up nicely in the end. The book meanders, which surprised me coming from someone who's written many books--the fact that this is the first for a general audience shows. But I enjoyed her storytelling and her humor, wisdom, and insight. The Audible audiobook comes with a download of the art that I missed by not having the actual book, which was a nice touch.
March 9, 2020
I love Nell Painter!
Would I recommend this book? Ummm probably not. It's slow and long. But she's so intriguing. She wrote a whole chapter about her commute on public transportation and I was sprung. I love a good makeover story. She is a successful historian and professor who literally started over in a new career. It takes guts to persevere in a new industry as she did.
What I love the most, her honesty and vulnerability. Wow! She is riddled with insecurity. In my head, I assume she would walk in every room like "bitch don't you know who I am!" But instead, she is hoping for validation from her peers and professors who ultimately don't matter. I don't think I could ever say out loud what she said about her father. But that was her truth. And she shared it. And it's refreshing.
Would I recommend this book? Ummm probably not. It's slow and long. But she's so intriguing. She wrote a whole chapter about her commute on public transportation and I was sprung. I love a good makeover story. She is a successful historian and professor who literally started over in a new career. It takes guts to persevere in a new industry as she did.
What I love the most, her honesty and vulnerability. Wow! She is riddled with insecurity. In my head, I assume she would walk in every room like "bitch don't you know who I am!" But instead, she is hoping for validation from her peers and professors who ultimately don't matter. I don't think I could ever say out loud what she said about her father. But that was her truth. And she shared it. And it's refreshing.
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