You're probably not old
enough to remember this song, but it was recorded by a bunch of people,
including the Beatles. It came to mind the other day because there's been a lot
of talk about how art has become commodified and some young artists are chasing
after sales at the expense of developing their work. Art is big business now,
and big collectors are chasing after the next big thing.
Of course this isn't a new
phenomenon. Jean-Michel Basquiat was the poster boy (pun somewhat intended) for
a young brilliant artist who cranked out work and flamed out early, dying
before the age of 30, and his works command enormous prices now, into the
millions. There's a young artist named Oscar Murillo who is being called the
next Basquiat, as collectors line up to buy his work.
Anyway, the point of this
post is to consider how this climate of money and sales is impacting the way
artists approach their art practice. I'm not in the thick of it- I know what I
do, and sales are great, and allow me to have a nice studio and pay for my
supplies, but I don't make work for the reason of selling it. If I did, I'd be
back doing illustrations for Lord & Taylor. It's stultifying to have to
think of whether work is acceptable to the market. You have to have the freedom
to develop as an artist, go down unknown avenues, fail miserably and throw
things away (or not, saving them for a more objective look much later,) follow
your curiosity and interests. I feel this way: art is a job and serious
attention must be paid, time must be spent. It's frustrating and joyful and I'm
fortunate to be able to do it.
The other day a friend of
mine, Edward Winklemann, wrote a post on his most excellent blog about how he,
as a gallerist and lover of art, was dismayed at the way some artists pursue
artmaking solely to make money and become famous, with a sense of entitlement and an attitude of insincerity and even dishonesty. Since I teach (actually make
that past tense, as I'm letting go of my adjunct position for now) I notice
that students do have a very skewed idea of what it takes to have an art
career. If they were at schools in New York fame and fortune would be even more
tantalizing.
Here's a quote from
Edward's post:
Increasingly
I'm reading online this or that artist's opinion that cheating the system or
scheming within the system to get ahead, through the creation/promotion/sale of
their art is not only OK with them, but their due, because of how difficult
they feel their life has been.
Edward
feels, as I do, that art has a value in itself that is outside the market
system, and perhaps it's with a bit of wishful thinking, feels that
artists themselves should at least adhere to an ethical code that befits
an individual who is creating beauty and/or thought-provoking works, as opposed
to a Wall Street person, for example. (Insert dose of cynicism here about Wall
Street types, that is probably unwarranted.)
Artists
should emerge from their thorough explorations in looking/seeing and in
particular their education in the humanities as, well, better humans. In my
experience, most do. But specifically, within my concept of the role of art as
a form of religion, artists are the leaders...the perceptive ones able to see
and communicate sincerely with the rest of us the more important or at least
interesting aspects of what it means to be a human here and now. That position
comes with certain responsibilities, though. If they're not at least attempting
to be good humans (and that is incompatible with willingly scheming or cheating
others), then they're just hucksters demanding attention for wholly
narcissistic reasons.
There's a lot more to his post and I don't
want to misrepresent what his thoughts are. He's looking to art for spiritual
sustenance. It made me think about one particular thing I always told my
students: don't put anything out there in the world unless it's the very best
you can do. The world has enough garbage as it is. Should we as artists be held to a higher standard? It seems to me some humility and gratitude is appropriate.
