The Importance of Excellent Tools

Robert Dodge, who teaches art techniques at my community college, sometimes chides students who draw on newsprint paper. Certainly, newsprint paper costs about 75 percent less than other paper but it’s junk, suitable for warm-up exercises only. A good drawing is better when it’s made with proper materials. What’s more, better materials encourage superior work. The legacy of creative professionals past can be felt in the selection of particular musical instruments, cameras, and other tools and materials.

Buy the Best Tools You Can Afford
In the digital world, one software product often dominates a field. Most digital artists use Adobe Photoshop; most writers use Microsoft Word; most videographers use either Adobe Premiere Pro (for Windows) or Apple Final Cut Pro (Mac). The only real choice is Windows vs. Apple, and the computer’s power and storage capacity.

In the analog world, where many creative professionals enjoy a craftsman’s love for tools, there are more choices.

Digital photography is changing rapidly, with one camera replacing another every year or two. In the analog world, photographers cherish vintage and new lenses from Leica, Nikon and Hasselblad. The vintage material costs less and carries a patina, a legacy, a sense of responsibility to the past. The newer lenses are technically superb, better than any that have come before. Several photographer friends now regularly use large format cameras because their 4” x 5” negatives produce excellent results. At the same time, they are learning to combine this older technology with newer digital work, in part because of the image control that digital media provides. A used lens, perhaps two dozen years old, is fine, but only the very latest digital equipment is acceptable.

In nearly every creative domain, there is some version of the push and pull of old versus new. I love painting watercolors from an antique Winsor & Newton metal case. The control that I get from the same company’s very best sable paintbrushes makes me feel as though I’m doing good work; for me, the extra investment (and the obsessive comparisons between competitive brushes) has been part of learning about watercolor tools. When I write longhand, I spend time seeking out just the right paper and the right pen.

The bottom line about tools: Buy the best you can afford. Don’t buy beginners products. Instead, invest in gently-used versions of the best. You are carrying on a legacy of excellent work.

The Value in Legacy
Several years ago, my wife’s father passed away. He was an excellent artist and illustrator. Cleaning his old workspace, we found two tins of watercolor tubes, well-used but viable. I had never attempted watercolors before. When I tried his paint and brushes, he inspired me. I now love watercolor painting, and I thank his memory for the unintended gift.

Legacy matters. Creative people value mentors, teachers, people who elevated the art form. An artist’s tool can be powerful talisman. Often, it’s an old worktable or some equipment from a teacher or a friend or a relative. A viola once played by a master. A beat-up old banjo case. An antique paperweight. A vintage fountain pen. A fifty-year old Leica camera. It’s not unusual to find some antiques in the most modern creative professional’s kit.

Technology has improved so many creative tools, but along the way, we’ve lost craftsmanship. Sometimes, we’re faced with the choice of a newer model with superior features, or an older one that’s beautifully built. This situation is commonplace in photography, and in the choice of musical instruments. Newer isn’t always better. More features don’t always mean an improved product.

Occasionally I’m impressed by the quality of work output from a creative professional working with inferior tools. The artist makes claims about the lack of need for expensive or overpriced tools or materials. And I can’t help but wonder how much better the professional’s fine work would be if better tools or materials were in her hands.

You Have My Permission…
Quality matters. Quality in the work you do. Quality in the way you spend your time. An investment in quality is always a good idea. Sometimes, the investment will do nothing more than make you feel more positive about your work. Sometimes, you’ll buy tools or materials beyond your skill level; that’s okay—most likely, you’ll rise to the occasion.

If you need someone to give you permission to spend the money on a better computer so you can edit digital video faster or more effectively, or superior woodworking tools for greater flexibility or precision, use me. You have my permission to spend the money. And if you need to convince a spouse, partner, parent or a co-worker that you ought to spend the money, feel free to hand a copy of this paragraph to them. (This offer is automatically rescinded if you: (a) need the money for food, clothing, shelter or your children’s education; (b) have already used this paragraph within the past 12 months; or (c) have a habit of buying expensive stuff that you never actually use.

Maintenance and Repair
Even the highest quality tool requires periodic maintenance. You can do some cleaning and polishing on your own, removing dirt and tarnish, but a professional shop can get inside and do the job completely. Every few years—or more frequently, if necessary-- bring your most-used gear to the best repair shop you can find, and spend the money necessary to keep your equipment operating properly. An undetected problem can worsen over time, perhaps causing failure when you need your tool to perform at its best. Lack of proper maintenance may slowly destroy the tool you love. Be sure to select the repair and maintenance shop with the utmost care.

Shopping—and Shopping for Discounts
Nearly every creative profession that involves tools, materials or supplies is now served by a specialty discount retailer. These retailers are accessible via the Web; many also send out catalogs. Some operate one or more retail stores as well. Should you buy from them?

In our frenzy to save money, we Americans have put most local specialty stores out of business. On the drive back from Best Buy, we wonder what happened to the record store on Main Street.

Several moments of reflection. Please indulge me.

The place is Kyoto, Japan. A tiny shop sells handmade Japanese watercolors, brushes and paper. The shop has been in the same location for over 150 years. Local artists congregate on the store’s one small bench. A woman sits on a raised tatami mat in reach of every pan of paint in the store. She speaks only Japanese, but she patiently caters to the many foreign visitors attracted by the shop. Each customer leaves the store with a tightly wrapped package of exquisite paints and handmade brushes. Local artists relaxing on the bench provide customers with encouragement and point to their own work hanging on the store’s weathered wooden walls.

In Washington, there’s a catalog and Web operation that specializes in pastels: www.dakotapastels.com. They stock every brand on the market, plus more types of papers and other pastel supplies than any other company in the world. They’ve answered my every question about choosing pastels, often in considerable detail.

Clearly, I prefer smaller stores staffed by personnel who care about their product line. I also worry about these stores, particularly in an era when every Web site can access any warehouse and computerized inventory list. Will these specialty stores all disappear? (Most are already gone; an endangered species with no law to protect them.)

Even when money is tight, I’ve tended toward smaller stores. I suspect I’ve saved money because I’ve listened to the knowledgeable store personnel’s informed advice, and I’ve bought the right stuff--and not too much of it, either.

Still, the argument is imperfect. Cheap Joe’s Art Stuff (www.cheapjoes.com) is a customer-centric mail order discounter in the art supply field. Prices are low, inventory is wide and deep, the staff is friendly and knowledgeable, they run workshops at their North Carolina headquarters, they run a wonderful charity program for disadvantaged kids, and they have an old-fashioned storekeeper’s sensibility--even a sense of humor. The exception makes the rule, I guess.