I take issue with the old proverb that “A jack of all trades is a master of none.” I was disabused of this take on things during my frequent visits to a mentors studio in Baltimore. Warburton was not the master of my apprenticeship by any means. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but it was some sort of artist, and I was interested in carving and sculpting. I was handy to have around when some heavy lugging needed to be done, or when he wanted someone to talk to. He was kind of an iosolated type.
Warburton’s specialty was ecclesiastical carving and sculpture. But as he bragged to me on our initial meeting he was a dab hand at multiple styles of chasing and engraving. He loved practical demonstrations of artistic concepts. One day the topic of the lecture was composition in art. He set a table with tablecloth and a variety of objects from the studio and had me play with making arrangements of them which he’d critique when he stepped away from his own work. Then the next visit he’d send me of on aa field trip to one of the museums to study a piece of medieval art. His goal, besides being to entertain himself, was to teach me the value of absorbing as much information on art and practical technique as was possible.
While he was a master in his own specific area, he’d mastered enough other crafts and arts that were adjacent to both fulfill his curiosity and greatly expand on what he could do as an artist. You couldn’t sit down to a game, of say chess, with Warburton without getting into a discussion of the history and Iconography associated. And, yes, as an ecclesiastical carver he much about iconography.
A jack of all trades is a master of none? Warburton would have turned it around. A proficient artist in his persuit of mastery has explored many nooks and crannies of knowledge.
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I absolutely deplore that “jack of all trades, master of none” thing. Lots of the greatest artists — people — through history have been polymaths. And…the word “amateur” means one who loves; “dilettante” one who delights. What beauty sits behind the word “professional”? There is none. Leonardo is considered by many to have been the greatest artist in the history of European art — and that guy? He sure didn’t limit himself. I think curiosity and the willingness to risk failure are wonderful traits in a human. I wouldn’t mind as an epitaph, “She was curious about everything, and she failed a LOT.”
Great epitaph, Martha
Thank you!!! Accurate, too!
A colleague of mine in anthropology studied a group of successful business people in 19th century Philadelphia They averaged seven failures in business before they succeeded. There were no B schools and you learned by doing. Failing up is a term I’ve heard used about this process. You learn from each one.
I think school is meant to be a laboratory for failing, especially skill classes. That’s hard on kids who’ve been raised in the world of standardized testing.
Failure isn’t taught as a learning experience, and it should be considered as a prerequisite.
I agree. I used to ask my students, “How many of you have ever failed?” No one raised their hands — either because they hadn’t or didn’t want to admit to it publicly. To me failing means 1) lack of preparation which teaches you humility, or 2) that you were brave and extended your reach.
“A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for” was that how it goes. It’s my old time favorite line!
Oh yes. I’ve learned so much in the past 18 months because of my injury, stuff I had no idea about, and some of it? I don’t have words for how it makes me feel to know it. Things which are — to me — miraculous. Equations I can’t solve but I can now SEE? Two paintings last year that were WAY above my range. Consistently observing nature and not knowing everything about what I see? I think that’s what keeps people alive in the best sense. I believe school should nurture curiosity and failure a LOT more than it does.
I like your take on it, Lou. You provided an example that people don’t fit categories. We all need to get more comfortable with the uniqueness of each of us, and appreciate who we actually are. This Warburton sounds like a fascinating person.
Thank you.
What a wonderful reflection. Warburton’s life and teachings show that true mastery is often enriched by curiosity, learning, and exploring many different skills. Your story beautifully challenges the proverb and reminds us that broad knowledge can deepen creativity, wisdom, and artistic excellence.