How to Find Support and Growth in Community
There’s something incredibly energizing about being in a room (or Zoom call) with other artists where the whole point is to share your work and talk about it. Not to sell it. Not to promote it. Just to talk about it. You show up, bring what you’ve been working on (or struggling with), and someone else gives you their attention, their perspective, and their thoughts. And you do the same in return. That exchange? It matters. A lot more than most of us realize.
For years, I avoided critique groups. Maybe it was burnout after grad school. Maybe it was the exhaustion of always having to explain what I was doing or defend it. Or maybe I just got too used to working in a vacuum, tucked away in my own head and studio. But when I started dipping my toes back into critique spaces again, I realized how much I had missed it. Not the part where someone tells you to add more blue or move something over an inch, but the real part. The part where you start to understand your own work more just by hearing someone else react to it.
Critique groups have a bad reputation in some circles. Too academic. Too formal. Too judgmental. And to be honest, sometimes they are. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about community-led, artist-run spaces where the goal is growth, not perfection. Spaces where you can bring unfinished work. Messy work. Confusing work. Spaces where people don’t just say "I like it," but actually help you figure out why something is working (or not). That kind of support is gold.
The best critique groups are the ones where everyone shows up as a peer. Not as a teacher. Not as a gatekeeper. Just as another person trying to make something meaningful. Some of my favorite critique experiences have been in groups with a mix of experience levels. Newer artists bring fresh eyes and ask great questions. More experienced folks offer insight from having been through the cycles of doubt and revision. Everyone learns from each other. Everyone benefits.
So let’s say you’re interested in starting or joining a critique group. Where do you even begin? First, think about what you need. Do you want ongoing feedback on a long-term project? Do you want a check-in once a month to stay accountable? Do you want a small group of trusted people you can be real with? Or are you more interested in pop-in sessions that anyone can join? It helps to be honest with yourself about your bandwidth and your goals.
When you're organizing or joining a critique group, clear structure helps. It doesn’t have to be rigid, just enough so everyone knows what to expect. Rotate who presents work. Set time limits so everyone gets their share. Use a format that encourages feedback without turning it into a performance or defense. One of my favorites is the "likes, questions, suggestions" format. It keeps things focused, and nobody feels like they’re being attacked or put on the spot.
If you’re nervous about feedback, you’re not alone. Even after two decades of teaching and making art, I still get that little jolt of fear when I put new work in front of others. It’s normal. But it gets easier the more you do it. And here’s the thing: critique doesn’t mean criticism. It just means engaging with the work. Not everything people say will resonate with you. Some suggestions you’ll ignore completely. That’s okay. The point is to listen, reflect, and decide what’s useful to your process.
Sometimes, the most valuable feedback isn’t even about the piece you brought. It’s about something someone else said that opens a door in your brain. Or a comment you hear yourself saying that makes you realize how you actually feel about your own work. Critique is less about fixing and more about seeing. Seeing your work more clearly. Seeing how others receive it. Seeing what you really care about.
Critique groups also help with momentum. When you know you have a session coming up, you’re more likely to get back in the studio and make something. Even if it’s not perfect. Even if it’s just a sketch. Having that gentle push can be the difference between a stalled project and one that slowly moves forward. It’s accountability, but it’s also connection.
Over time, these groups can evolve into creative lifelines. You start to trust each other more. You start to learn each other’s habits, strengths, and growth edges. You stop worrying so much about whether your work is "good" and start asking better questions. Is it clear? Is it saying what I want it to say? Does it feel true?
If you’ve never been in a critique group before, or it’s been a while, consider this your invitation. You don’t need permission. You don’t need a fancy setup. You just need a few people who are willing to show up and talk about their work with honesty and curiosity. Start with one session. Invite two or three people. Keep it simple.
And if you’re looking for ways to make it work smoothly, here are a few tips that have helped me: Keep the group small, especially at first. Four to six people is plenty. Make sure everyone gets equal time. Use a timer if needed. Set some ground rules. No interrupting. No "fixing" unless asked. Be specific in your feedback. "I was drawn to the texture in this area" is more helpful than "It’s nice." Ask the artist what kind of feedback they’re looking for before you start. Leave space for silence. Sometimes people need a minute to process. Follow up after. A quick message or check-in can go a long way.
And here’s the part that’s easy to forget: you don’t always have to be the one sharing. Sometimes just showing up and giving feedback can reignite your own practice. You might see a solution to something in someone else’s work that solves a problem in your own. Or you might remember that you’re not alone in the weird tangle of making things.
Critique groups won’t solve every creative challenge. They won’t magically make your work better overnight. But they will remind you that art doesn’t happen in a vacuum. That it’s okay to not have all the answers. That showing up and sharing is part of the process.
And if you’ve had a bad experience with critique in the past, I get it. Me too. But don’t let that stop you from trying again in a different setting, with different people. Because when critique is done well, it’s not about judgment. It’s about attention. And giving each other that kind of attention... that’s one of the best gifts we can offer as artists.
So maybe this is the season to try it. Start a group. Join one. Host a one-time feedback session. Or just reach out to a fellow artist and ask if they’d like to trade thoughts on recent work. Keep it simple. Keep it kind. And keep showing up.