The Learning Connexion (TLC) Managing Director Jonathan Milne will be presenting some of his 'gently subversive' thoughts on creativity in a series of articles. This month he explores the blurry lines and complexities around cheating and copying.

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One of the fears of beginning artists is that others will steal their ideas.  At TLC exhibitions there are stern signs saying NO PHOTOGRAPHY.  I assume that there is a worry that people might use images to make money at the expense of the artist.

Since TLC began in 1988 we have never had any convincing evidence of illicit copying or cheating.  There have been one or two grumbles (‘Your work looks too much like mine’), but on investigation we haven’t found anything other than an overlap of themes and styles.

Cheating turns out to be more complex than it seems.  At one end of the spectrum are brazen, undisputed acts such as wholesale copying and on-selling of movies.  At the other end of the scale are acts which sometimes look more like education than cheating.

We teach children by mimicry (copying) and when it comes to art we blame them for following our teaching too well.  For example, figurative drawing is based on the notion of making a copy of something you can see.  It’s a strange idea because the ‘copy’ is an illusion and it can be made without a shred of creativity.  Meticulous paintings of photographs are called ‘photographic realism’ and they are generally counted as ‘art’.

It is then just a small jump to a ‘style’.  Is it ‘copying’ to make a picture in a pointillist style?  The funny thing is that you can press a button in PhotoShop and achieve a pointillist result with no creative input.

The notion of ‘cheating’ is increasingly blurry.  You can see a vast amount of art for free on the internet, but under some circumstances it is an offence to copy it.  You can borrow a DVD of a movie and view it legally, but if you make a copy you are technically breaking the law.

There are smart marketers who realise that cheating can be good.  Musicians give away segments of their music in the hope that people will ‘steal’ it and thereby help them to sell albums. The same tactic can work for artists.  If your work is seen you have a better chance of making sales.

Education itself is problematic.  How can students engage with art if they’re deemed to be cheating by making copies?  It puzzles me that there are galleries that allow people to make drawings of art while at the same time prohibiting photographs.  Even more problematic, how can critics usefully talk about art without being able to use images?  If artists and their agents are so possessive or greedy that they won’t allow any ‘reasonable use’ of photos, then they are inhibiting education.

When I wrote ‘GO! The Art of Change’ I used nearly 1500 images, almost entirely my own photos, many of which gratefully, were of a substantial number of art works by TLC students.  If we had been required to pay royalties for all the art then the production would have been an economic and legal nightmare.  The book would have been impossible and this is why small countries like New Zealand don’t have many books about their own artists.

I’m therefore drawn to a different notion of ‘cheating’ and ‘copying’.  If the cheat is causing damage by undermining your livelihood, then it is pure, old fashioned cheating and deserves to be penalised.  If there is no damage and of educational value or possible free publicity, then maybe it deserves to be encouraged.

Further information

Jonathan Milne is Managing Director and founder of The Learning Connexion School of Art and Creativity. He is equally interested in science and art and has always been captivated by the notion that life has meaning and heaven is within. He has led courses on art, business and creativity in businesses and universities.

In 2008 his book, 'GO! The Art of Change' , was published.   He is presently working on 'Art, Meaning and Myth'.  He says 'Creativity isn't a slogan - it's about real engagement with who we are.  I love to see people getting a bigger sense of what they can be, both individually and collectively.  It's like suddenly breaking out of a great spiderweb of entrenched expectations.'