Of course I agree with Cheerskep. When I ran art programs would say that art curricula are not at the edge of newness. They can't really break new ground or define the next "ism" or even explain what is going on right now. But any young student who is any good wants to prove his or her ability to be "ahead of the curve" and will try to vex the curricular models. That's the nexus of tension and excitement -- of learning and pushing-- in a top art program. Respect for the achievements of past masters is not the same as repeating them. Most (good) artists probably have something unique to offer but few of them have the guts or the will to develop it. Why? Because it may destroy them and ruin their ability. Therein lies the difference between the happy many -- those who know how they measure up to established models -- and the tormented few, those for whom no measure of excellence is established and who work in isolation.
The comment regarding the frontiersman and his axe comes from readings in Americana. It's commonly known that the often lawless frontiersman, an anarchist, a squatter, a man on the run, was the person who broke the wilderness, again and again. Very often it was the same few men who kept moving on (sometimes when they were pursued as felons, chased away by deed holders, or just loners who grubbed for a pecarious living). It was the folks who followed them who developed the land, set up the towns, formed the churches, enforced laws, and civilized the frontier. Another reason for moving on was the scarcity of game. It's been said that at the wild game would vanish least 50 miles ahead of the line of settlement. Hunter frontiersmen and Indians who were caught in that empty zone either died or became fully dependent on settlers. Indians who moved on were crushing into other Indian territory with brutal results from arrows ahead and bullets behind. The movement of the American frontier is a sad yet compelling story of amoral material exploitation. 19C Historian Frederick Turner declared the frontier "closed" in a speech he gave at the opening of the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago and he said it would be internalized in culture. So it has. Yet "the sound of another man's axe" is a useful metaphor for artistic anxiety and the quest for innovation and freedom. WC
