2025 09 03
Playing music alone in the park. Chicago, Illinois. July, 2025. © Clayton Hauck
As I learn to navigate being an artist, I think it’s vital to manage your voice. What are you saying, both literally and visually through your work. To be candid, this is not something I’m good at. I’m not even sure it’s something I want to be good at. This is perhaps the biggest hurdle that has been keeping me relegated to an artistic tradesperson.
I was reminded this week that the things you say and do are interpreted differently by every single person digesting them. Perhaps it’s an ego thing, but I often forget this and speak as though we’re all on the same page. We’re all in on the same knowledge and have the same perspectives, when clearly the exact opposite is true.
I think one of the amazing things about art is that is unifies and bridges gaps between everyone’s unique perspectives. This is not a profound statement by any means, and perhaps I should’ve been writing this a few decades ago as a student, but I mean it merely as a reminder to myself. Focus more on what I want to say through my work, and less on posting stuff just because: it’s pretty; I’m supposed to; to feed the algorithm; to remind people I exist.
We all can play music alone in the park, but those of us playing with purpose will find the audience they are seeking.
-Clayton
2025 05 17
Rust belt remnants. Joliet, Illinois. June, 2024. © Clayton Hauck
This used to be an iron mill. Now it’s a pile of rubble, but there’s a park alongside of it, so we’ll call it a win.
-Clayton
2025 01 29
Here’s an example of an image which I like, but in reality is probably not a great image. It’s missing something that makes is special, yet has elements which make it special to me, as I lived the moment and it triggers things inside my head that an uninvolved onlooker (you) won’t have access to. I’d built up an elaborate narrative in my head about this man and what he was up to, which gave this image a story. The dreary setting only adds to the mystique for me, however, you likely look at it and see a boring parkscape, devoid of excitment. Could this image work in a series, with other images, giving it more meaning? Maybe. Does it hold up on it’s own as a single? No.
What do you think?
It does serve as a reminder for me that I need to get my ass back out on the road and make new work. I’ve been spending far too much time in my head, dreaming up new ideas that may never lead anywhere.
-Clayton
Man walks through park with dog. Champagne, Illinois. April, 2024. © Clayton Hauck
Here’s an example of an image which I like, but in reality is probably not a great image. It’s missing something that makes is special, yet has elements which make it special to me, as I lived the moment and it triggers things inside my head that an uninvolved onlooker (you) won’t have access to. I’d built up an elaborate narrative in my head about this man and what he was up to, which gave this image a story. The dreary setting only adds to the mystique for me, however, you likely look at it and see a boring parkscape, devoid of excitment. Could this image work in a series, with other images, giving it more meaning? Maybe. Does it hold up on it’s own as a single? No.
What do you think?
It does serve as a reminder for me that I need to get my ass back out on the road and make new work. I’ve been spending far too much time in my head, dreaming up new ideas that may never lead anywhere.
-Clayton