Monday, February 22, 2016

A piece of writing about experiencing translation for my girlfriend.

[Revised] 
In my school years, I never learned how to look at art from textbooks or teachers. Maybe there are some insightful, splendid instructors or books which are desperate to teach something new, what has not been taught and is unknown. The conventional teacher might have been convinced that their students, after all, were bound to lose interest, even before reaching a certain level at which these students appreciate good art. 

During the last week and weekend, I have helped my girlfriend who is from South Africa and working both as an English teacher and an art magazine reporter with her daunting article. What I have done for her is, as a matter of fact, what she was supposed to do by herself. Instead of handling it by herself, she asked me a favor because the artist she wanted to interview was Korean and she seemed unable to articulately describe his messages in English. Besides, except for the first five years of occasionally being taken care of by my mom, whose major was art, I would say that most of my life has been quite distant from delighting in art.

I think interviewing and writing based on art should be differentiated from casual conversations on the subject. It requires thorough preparation before an interview and the interviewers need the capability to catch subtle nuances from their interviewees. Our subject was an artist who has more sensitivity than ordinary people and likely to use many inexplicable expressions for laymen like me. The one hour of interview time was no doubt challenging for me, but I genuinely enjoyed his eloquence and his passion for art.

What awaited me after was a big sigh of relief at the end of the interview, and yet concern washed over me; I had just jotted down many incomplete sentences and words, not to miss a single point made by him from our endless conversation, and in order to fulfill my pledge to successfully translate all he said into English for my girlfriend. After reviewing and multiple revisions, I managed to complete the interview translation, as well as creating a far longer translation of an art review of his work. Nevertheless, all of my work seemed no more than insufficient pieces of work for my girlfriend to base her writing on. During this weekend’s collaboration with each other, I found out some parts from her draft in which what he meant was misinterpreted so it was useful that I had helped.

Overall, the interview and the translation work were a lot of fun for me. When would I ever in my life have another chance to interview an artist and translate contents I am unfamiliar with? In addition, it served as a tipping point to having an entirely different perspective on how to look at modern art, and gave a great impetus to realizing how important and useful it is to be able to write well.







[Original]
Nowhere did a page of a textbook and a teacher teach how to look at art in my school years. Maybe some insightful, splendid instructors or books are desperate to teach what have been untaught and unknown. The conventional might have been convinced that their students, after all, were bound to lose interest, even before reaching a certain level at which these students appreciate good art. 

During the last week and weekend, I have helped my girlfriend, who is from South Africa and working both as an English teacher and an art magazine reporter, with her daunting article. What I have done for her is, as a matter of fact, what she was supposed to do of her own. Instead of handling it by herself, she asked me a favor because the artist she wanted to interview was a pure, monolingual Korean and seemed unable to articulately describe his messages in English. Besides, except for the first five years of occasionally being taken care of by my mom’s side whose major was art, I would say, most of my life has been quite distant from delighting in art. 

For all we know, interviewing and writing based on it should be differentiated from casual conversations. It requires thorough preparation before an interview and of interviewers the capability to catch subtle nuances from their interviewees. The subject we targeted was, even more, an artist who has more sensitivity than ordinary people and likely use many inexplicable expressions for laymen, like me. The one hour of interview was no doubt challenging to me, I genuinely enjoyed his eloquence and his passion for art though. 

What awaited me after was a big sigh of relief, coming from the end of the interview, and concern washed over me; I just jotted down many incomplete sentences and words, not to miss a single point made by him from our endless conversation, and to fulfill my pledge to successfully translate all he said into English for her, and vice versa. After multiple reviewing and revisions, I managed to complete the interview translation as well as a far longer translation of one’s art review of his work. Nevertheless, my whole work seemed no more than insufficient pieces of work for her to base her writing on. During this weekend’s collaboration with each other on it, I found out some parts from her draft in which what he was meant by was misinterpreted. 

Overall, all the interview and translation work were a lot of fun to me. When would I ever in my life have another chance to interview with an artist and translate contents I am unfamiliar with? In addition, It served as a tipping point to have an entirely different perspective about how to look at modern art, and gave a great impetus to realizing how important and useful it is to write well.