I’ve been writing the Artist Spotlight column for nearly three and a half years now. In around five months, I’ll write my last Artist Spotlight article, rounding out a successful attempt at bringing digestible art-related content to my predominantly STEM-focused engineering school. Despite my dedication to The Stute and my column, I’ve definitely felt myself slowly drifting away from what used to be a favorite hobby. In completing my secondary education, I was able to extensively fulfill my desire to create through various art classes and personal projects I had time for. Despite finding consistency, opportunities to pursue my artistic passions dwindled once I started my undergraduate education at Stevens. Generally, having less time hasn’t hindered my ability to create some of my best work. Constantly being forced to think as an engineer has definitely taken its toll, though, and I’ve felt it more challenging to act on my inspirations. Overall, I have a very spontaneous creative process; I’ll suddenly see an image of exactly what I want to do in my head, and then I execute. However, I feel like my mind—through the process of learning to be an engineer—has been slowly conditioned to a necessity for perfection.
Engineering is an interesting profession in that you are constantly required to synchronize science and ethics. To ensure that a system works, one must ask a multitude of questions: Will this mechanism perform correctly based on my calculations? How can I improve the output of this system by utilizing a statistically controlled process? Will this new implementation influence the job performance of operators? How will neglecting a peer review process for these bridge structural drawings hinder commuter safety? In the real world, the things engineers create can’t fail because people rely on those devices, products, machines, and processes. These considerations are essential and must never be forgotten. Thinking methodically and accurately is essential in engineering, but when it seeps into an artistic process, such a structured way of thinking can actually be detrimental. I oddly notice myself taking fewer chances on new ideas, meticulously coordinating the utensils I use, and becoming more frustrated with failed concepts.
Unlike engineering, art represents a medium where failure is often more beautiful than it is catastrophic. Artists confront their failures, insecurities, and frustrations by creating physical representations of those feelings through different mediums. In some ways, art is a process in which you “fail upwards”. Here’s an example: in drawing a landscape, I notice that I don’t like the way the trees look, but that distant mountain range resembles a nose. Naturally, I rotate my canvas 90 degrees and continue as though nothing even happened. Additionally, art oftentimes isn’t designed to be appealing or cater to a large audience. In fact, there are art forms specifically intended to make the viewer severely uncomfortable. For the artist, if a viewer is absolutely repulsed by what they are looking at, they have succeeded. If an engineer at Philips designed a toothbrush shaped like a rectangular prism because they “wanted the consumer to consider the privilege of routine” or something ridiculous like that, they would get fired.
Ultimately, it boils down to being able to effectively acknowledge the shifting balance between the principles of art and engineering. Thinking as an engineer requires discipline in every aspect of a solution to a challenge, while art is more interpretive when applied and leaves room for failure. Engineering should be a selfless practice, while art is heavily introspective and personal. Both practices best convene at the avenue of curiosity. Artists question absolutely everything and learn to consider opposing ideas. In engineering, if you aren’t questioning everything or hearing out the other side, you’re failing — not in the good way. Writing the Artist Spotlight column has definitely helped me reflect on the conflict between my passion for engineering and art. I hope to let them inform each other in ways that make me a better creator, engineer, and thinker.
