To PhD or not to PhD?
Does the process of getting one more piece of paper help or hinder an art practice?
by Barbara Meneley
There is no shortage of trepidation in the lives of most working artists. We are better educated than 75% of Canadians and in the lower 25% of income levels.1 We seldom have benefits or pensions, and even the most accomplished and successful professional artists have no job security. So what’s a working artist to do? On my good days I weigh the balance of a life lived happily against the difficult realities of my chosen profession, and the artist’s life comes out ahead. On other days—well, usually in the middle of the night—I battle the ever-present specters of professional and economic disaster.
So in 2011, after a lot of consideration, mentorship and consultation, I decided to start a PhD. I had several reasons for starting down this path. I had completed an MFA in 2006, and while there was some teaching available to me with that degree, competition was tough, and I wanted to increase my employment capital. Doing a PhD also seemed like an opportunity to go further with some research and artmaking I had initiated in my MFA. Finally, I found a funded PhD program that I felt would support the work I wanted to do. Knowing that four years of arts funding would not be accessible to me any other way, I began my PhD.
Although much better established in Europe, research-creation practices are relatively new in Canada. Simply put, practice-based research incorporates visual, haptic and scholarly ways of knowing. This opens paths of inquiry and production that are not as readily accessible through text-based research. The Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) defines research creation as “An approach to research that combines creative and academic research practices, and supports the development of knowledge and innovation through artistic expression, scholarly investigation, and experimentation.”2 In other words, art and art practices are situated as potential contributors to research, rather than the subjects or objects of study.
Some artist researchers develop their doctoral work in studio or visual arts PhDs. I chose a Cultural Studies program that I felt would best support my needs. It offered funding support, the context of critical interdisciplinary scholarship and a faculty and supervisor I wanted to work with. However, I have found that there are some growing pains associated with research-creation practices, especially for doctoral students in Canadian interdisciplinary programs.
Even though the university I attend guarantees doctoral students basic annual funding, there are difficulties in accessing supplementary support. Despite SSHRC’s recognition of research-creation, its assessors may not be familiar with—or supportive of—creative research. And as the demands on funding increase, assessors are more likely to award proposals that can be best understood through established academic forms. Similarly, because the processes of material research are not always well understood, it can be difficult to get support for the physical workspaces that are often necessary to the development of creative research. Again, it’s much easier for the institution to support established forms of research practice, especially when space is in short supply.
However, there are opportunities associated with these challenges. Firstly, developing my work in an academic context has invited interesting conversations in and around the nature of art, art processes and creative research. This presents multiple opportunities for advocacy and education about art and creative processes, which is always a good thing. Even better, I have been able to participate in shaping my program through committee work. Secondly, perhaps because I’ve advocated, described and fought for it in a lot of ways over the past few years, my studio practice feels stronger and more grounded than ever. I have shown, sold or screened every piece I’ve made so far in my PhD, and I am developing paths of inquiry and bodies of work that are rich and sustaining.
Moving into the fourth and final year of my PhD, I look around and wonder what’s next. A tenure-track position at a major metropolitan university? As it turns out, not even in my dreams. People on academic hiring committees report being overwhelmed with qualified, and beyond qualified, applicants for every position. It’s just an educated guess, but maybe there’s no firm place in academia for a middle-aged female creative researcher with public political views. Have I blundered into yet another marginalized profession? Maybe I should look into other options. Keypunch operating? Beekeeping? Perhaps another PhD?
In the end, this reminds me of a story friends tell about being stuck on a mountain at night while high on acid. In complete darkness, with no sense of whether they might plunge to their deaths with each next step, they adopted what they called “the rock and crawl method.” In the dark, on their hands and knees, they would throw a rock a few feet in front of themselves. Depending on how they heard the rock land, they could tell if it would be safe to crawl those few feet forward. This resonates for me as a working artist. I can sense the ground just in front of me and so far, doing a PhD has been my next best step.
Barbara Meneley is an intermedia artist and PhD candidate (ABD) in Cultural Studies at Queen’s University. She teaches at University of Regina and First Nations University of Canada, and makes site responsive work that engages with the landscapes and foundations of contemporary culture. www.barbarameneley.com
- Hill Strategies, “A Statistical Profile of Artists in Canada” (based on the 2001 Census). Accessed July 5, 2014. http://www.hillstrategies.com/content/statistical-profile-artists-canadabased-2001-census
- http://www.sshrc-crsh.gc.ca/funding-financement/programs-programmes/definitionseng.aspx#a22