Of course, as far as artistry goes, it really doesn’t matter.

When I was first considering getting a BFA (in my late 30s) I thought my inability to photographically reproduce scenes using pencils and other traditional media precluded my going to art school... but I still gathered my courage, front-loaded my portfolio with what I thought was my strongest work— very polished photography— and scheduled a “do I even stand a chance here” portfolio consultation.

I swallowed hard when the interviewer (gruffly) introduced himself as a professor in the fine art photography program. He cooly disregarded shots I thought were most impressive— a perfectly composed and finished shot of a huge lightning bolt over a brick victorian cathedral shot from a fifth floor outdoor vantage point a few blocks away with a full frame DSLR; some long exposure shots of really grand views in a city; a few others. ‘Ah, yes. Very pretty. Doesn’t say much about you though, non?’ But as soon as he got through those and got to the ones I threw in there to pad things out, he started to pay more attention.

One-for-one, he was most interested in the ones I liked the most. I did not even take most on a ‘real’ camera, I took them on my phone... Abstract shapes made by overlapping subway bars. A smashed pile of dropped beer glasses at the bar I worked at. A guy in a suit sitting down waiting for a his hamburger order at 3am. He actually stopped, put his coffee and pen down, and spent a solid minute smiling and just taking in a picture of my wife, from behind, sitting a fifty or so feet away on a beach staring out into the water in the low-left corner of the frame with a low-flying plane the same size as her in top right of the frame. The shot really does viscerally convey groundedness, and airiness, the simultaneous distance and closeness of the juxtaposition on the infinite expanse of ocean and sky... it’s a great, kinda grainy, totally unpolished iPhone photograph.

Without a single pencil portrait or oil painting, he waived my admission and let me in on the spot. My school is no RISD, but a professor who went to RISD prided himself on perfect pencil realism as a high school student, but soon realized how little it mattered in practice. We obviously must know how to produce things visually, but perfectly reproducing a glass sphere sitting in front of a waterfall is a parlor trick. The time spent honing those skills to that level would be much better spend figuring out new and interesting ways to present what you see, or figuring out new angles or new truths to communicate about YOUR world, or even going out and experiencing new things to find captivating about it— many of them you'll probably find on your block.

Many folks— largely folks that haven’t ever or recently had anything to do with formal art education— think we lost something important by deemphasizing those rigid classical technical capabilities. Many of those folks would also be pretty sad if rock, rap, folk, cool jazz, folk, electronica, or any other modern music was replaced by Serious Classical Virtuosity.

In the end, you need exactly as much skill as you need to express what you want to express. The tools or techniques compensating for ‘missing’ skills often become the most compelling elements— like Jan van Eyck, here. He could have gotten a future iPad beamed to him with Adobe Illustrator installed on it and it wouldn’t make those prayer beads (or any of the other captivating shinies in his work) any less stunning. You can instantly tell his work by looking at it and it’s certainly not because everything looks just like a photograph— it has real emotional impact. It really viscerally communicates that weird Van Eck something and it definitely would do a worse job of it had he not used whatever projection doodad he used to get it.