Visible Enough to Dismiss

They said the same thing about photography

Living by Making

At the Workbench

Midway in my art career, when digital painting was really new, I heard it constantly. “That’s not real art.” “It’s cheating.” “The computer is doing the work.”

The first few times, I felt defensive. Then I felt uncertain. Then I started noticing something: other digital artists were getting the exact same criticism. Not just from random critics or suspicious traditionalists. From other artists. From galleries. From the same people who, a generation earlier, probably would have dismissed anything made with acrylic paint because oil was the only “serious” medium.

And then I remembered: they said the same thing about photography.

When photography emerged in the nineteenth century, critics insisted it wasn’t art. It was mechanical reproduction. It lacked the hand of the artist. The very thing that made it powerful, its precision, was what disqualified it from the conversation.

And yet here we are. Photography is in most museums in the world. It’s taught in most art schools. It’s part of the conversation now, undeniably.

I’ve watched this pattern repeat in my own lifetime. First with digital tools. Then with AI. Then when I began combining my photography with mixed media, or with AI processing. Every new combination draws the same lines in the sand.

It used to sting. Now I notice it differently. When the criticism shows up, it usually means something is moving. Something new is being taken seriously enough to be resisted.

That’s not nothing.

Under the Surface

There’s a strange kind of belonging that happens when your work gets criticized. It sounds backwards, I know. But stay with me. When no one pushes back, it often means no one is paying attention. The work is invisible. It doesn’t disturb anything or ask anyone to reconsider what they already believe.

Criticism means you’re visible. It means your work landed somewhere it could be noticed, weighed, and yes, dismissed. But dismissal requires engagement. Indifference requires nothing.

I’ve carried guilt for years about the unfinished projects, the experiments that didn’t lead anywhere obvious, the directions I pursued that didn’t fit the market or the moment, or me. But some of those directions were exactly the ones that drew the most resistance. And some of that resistance was evidence that I was moving toward something worth finding.

Not all criticism is useful. Some of it is petty. Some of it comes from people protecting their own territory. But even that kind of criticism tells you something: you’ve entered a territory worth protecting.

If your work has never been dismissed, questioned, or misunderstood, it might just mean you haven’t been visible enough to generate a reaction. Ugh, that kind of stings. That’s not a comfort exactly. But it’s a reframing worth considering.

Studio Notes

I don’t do as much pure digital painting now as I used to. The tools have moved. The questions I’m asking have shifted. I work more in mixed media, combining my photography with physical materials, sometimes running images through AI to discover what they’re becoming.

And sure enough, the same criticism shows up. “That’s not really your photograph.” “The AI is doing the work.” I’ve heard it before. I’ll hear it again. What I’ve learned is that the criticism doesn’t tell you whether your work is good. It tells you whether your work is noticeable. Those are different questions.

The work itself has to answer the first one. I still have to show up, make the marks, see what holds and what doesn’t. No amount of criticism or praise changes whether a piece is honest or false, alive or dead. That discernment is mine to make, alone in the studio.

But the criticism does answer the second question. If someone is saying your work isn’t real, it means they’ve encountered it. They’ve had to reckon with it, even if their reckoning is dismissal. That’s progress. Not proof of quality, progress of visibility. The two feel the same some mornings. They’re not.

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On the Table

This week’s practice: Name the resistance you’re avoiding

Think about something you haven’t shared yet. A piece of work. A direction you’re exploring. A question you’ve been asking in the studio that you haven’t spoken out loud. Why haven’t you put it out there?

If the answer is “because someone might not understand it” or “because it doesn’t fit what people expect from me”, notice that. Those are descriptions of potential criticism. And potential criticism means potential visibility.

This week, consider doing one small thing that increases the chance someone might push back. Share the work. Mention the direction. Let the question out of the studio and into a conversation.

Nothing dramatic has to happen. But the practice of making yourself visible, even to the possibility of resistance, is a muscle worth building.

→ If you do this, I’d like to hear what you put out there. Hit reply.

In Good Company

A professor recently wrote about a student newspaper article that essentially said, “We hope the commencement speaker isn’t this guy”, and they were talking about him.

His reaction wasn’t what you’d expect. He sent the article to his family group chat. Not because he enjoyed being criticized, but because he noticed something: in order to say “we hope it’s not him,” they had to consider him as a plausible option.

Being mentioned, even dismissively, meant he was in the conversation.

That reframe has stayed with me. Criticism doesn’t always mean you’ve failed. Sometimes it means you’ve arrived somewhere visible enough to generate a reaction. That’s not the same as success. But it’s a signal you’re moving.

A Quiet Note

Nothing to offer this week except this:

If you’ve been carrying criticism longer than it deserves, criticism of your medium, your direction, your pace, your creations, maybe it’s time to set it down.

The people who dismissed photography didn’t slow photography down. The people who dismissed digital painting didn’t stop it from becoming its own form. The people dismissing your work now won’t be the ones who decide what it becomes. You will.

Leave the Light On

Thank you for being here. If your work has been criticized, dismissed, or misunderstood, you’re in a long line. The critics don’t usually get remembered. The work does. Keep making. Even when, especially when, the reaction is resistance.

If you want to read this later or find other issues, you can find them here Living by Making]