Pour yourself a half-empty glass of fine whine and come join us in the weekly complaint department.
This week we are presenting; WYFP - Arts Edition.
WYFP (What’s Your F#%king Problem) is our community’s Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else we think might help. Everyone, and all sorts of troubles, are welcome. May we find peace and healing here. And won’t you please share the joy of WYFP by recommending?
My Stupid Art Career
I began painting at 17. I might have begun earlier, but I was not allowed to take art classes in high school because I was in the college prep track, even though I was planning to go to art college. In my twenties I began showing regularly and I won a MA state grant. Just the same, I was considered too young to be taken seriously as an artist. In my early-mid thirties in San Francisco, I was still considered sort of too young to be taken seriously, despite all my accomplishments up until that point. In New Mexico from my late thirties to my mid-forties, I enjoyed a brief respite from the Three Bears logic of 'how things are'. And then in 2002, upon arriving here in the Delaware Valley, I was suddenly too old. At 44.
The conclusion being in these parts; if you are not ‘successful’ by the age of 44, then there is something wrong with you. That, and you must not be very good. I’ve been listening to this line of reasoning for eight years now. But I don’t buy any of it. I am now on temporary leave from my art career. This brings me less frustration, more calm, and the freedom to explore new avenues in my chosen medium as all good artists should do periodically if they want to truly call themselves an artist. This leave also leaves many others seriously questioning how serious I must be about being an artist, because I don’t have certain stamps of outside approval.
I’m in the wrong place. I didn’t think there was such a thing as a wrong place, but it seems there is. I currently live in the most provincial city in the country, and therefore all my previous accomplishments do not count for much. I used to have overlapping exhibitions, half a dozen a year on average, before moving to Philadelphia.
A few years back, thirty years after I began painting, I was offered a spot in an emerging artist show at an Old City gallery. Emerging?!? What the hell am I emerging from? The shadows? A cave? The primordial ooze? What?
There is a rare exhibition space in this town where the owners love my work. They have a curator who organizes their shows. I have met with her. She likes my work, but thinks it is not right for the space. They have shown other small paintings in this space. They have shown drawings of made-up stuffed animals in this space. But for some reason, I cannot show in this space. Let’s see, the owners adore my work, the curator respects my work, I get along fine with everybody involved and they know my references, they have previously shown art in a similar genre, but they will not show my work.
Wash, rinse, repeat variations on this theme over and over and over again. I am constantly being asked “where are you showing”. I am constantly being told by the local art world gatekeepers that no one is interested in seeing my work, or this sort of work, or work of this kind. I am equally constantly being asked by people (yep, real live people) “where are you showing”. Around and around it goes. I am already beyond dizzy. Stop!
Needless to say, my art sales are stagnant. I have no audience. The paintings are piling up. Fortunately, these days the paintings are small; due to lack of space for working on them and lack of funds for buying larger surfaces to work on. There are full bodies of work that I want to do when I have the space. I will also need the money to free up the time and pay for the space and materials. A lot of time is spent visualizing my dream studio with lots of storage units; really nice organized cabinets and shelves and racks for paintings. You would think I would be visualizing collectors lining up at my door, so that storage space would not be so necessary. That is how long it’s been since I’ve sold a painting. I’ve forgotten how to play this one over in my mind.
There was a time when I had my share of career successes; solo gallery shows, magazine articles, catalog covers, inclusion in museum exhibitions, the occasional grant or award. These were the sort of good opportunities for an artist to get their work out to a larger audience. Deep inside I know my current situation is temporary, it’s a Delaware Valley thing and it will pass, as soon as we are able to move somewhere else. Almost anywhere else. As soon as I can sell some paintings and we can save some money...
The Stupid Art World
For a field that is supposed to be so adventurous and open-minded, the art world is one screwed-up planet. Here is just a sampling of the pleasures we artists get to enjoy:
• Credentials Deflation - It used to be that life experience, professional experience, years of proven work was more than sufficient. Not so much anymore. The art world now views acquiring an MFA as proof of being serious about your art. But it seems to me that if you’re truly serious about your art, you would be in the studio as much as possible creating, and not chasing after another over-priced credential.
It doesn’t matter how good you are, how skilled, how creative, how original, what you have to say, your one-of-a-kind way of saying it, how visionary you might be... Which leads me to thinking about the current definition for visionary art. I wonder how that had changed, and why?
• Stupid Artist Labels - Like Woman Artist (noun noun) and Emerging Artist (just ick). Add Visionary Artist. Somewhere along the way this ceased to mean an artist who is visionary, but instead signifies an unschooled artist. Therefore, I can’t be a “visionary artist’ because I have a BFA. If having a BFA means you are not a visionary, but are trained to some middling extent, and yet are still not serious enough about your art to get an MFA, what does that say? Hmmm?
• Gallery Owners - They are simply owners of galleries. Some of them know something about art, but many are wannabees who have some money and then open a gallery. Some wannabees learn on the job and become quite good at what they do. Unfortunately, many don’t. There are multitudes of horror stories out there: Damaged and stolen artwork, non-payment of sales commissions, contracts that sign over artists’ copyrights in the very small print. And then there are the pathological liars, the ones that won’t show your work unless you go out on date with them, and the dealers that put all their profits up their nose.
• The Emperor’s New Clothes - What passes for trendy, and the narrow definitions for what is hot. And why is it so hot if the genre’s been around for decades? Much of what is labeled ‘edgy’ these days is as cutting edge as a dull spork. Honesty, technical skill, something to say, and an original way to say it — These qualities would be revolutionary in my opinion. You get to see them on rare occasion, but not often enough.
• Rip-Offs - Juried shows, magazine competitions, even grants and residencies demand fees that have become astronomical in recent years. Forget eating or buying art materials if you want to apply for anything anymore. Vanity galleries? Paying for wall space? Galleries handing over more and more expenses to artists, all the while taking a bigger cut in commission? Dig deeper and all you get is pocket lint.
• Art Reviews - Ever try to read one of these? Where do they get all those convoluted words and terms? Reading these things is like gnawing on a dry, splintery bone. It’s like trying to stuff styrofoam down your throat and convincing yourself, that yes, this IS food. And you WILL like it.
• Having a Style - They drum this one into us in art school. At first you’re supposed to experiment, try different things. But at some unnamed point you are supposed to settle on a style. And stay there. And that’s it. Otherwise you are considered too erratic and again, not serious enough. Yeah, tell that to Picasso. A true artist does not have a singular style, so much as you can see their hand, their personal imprint, in all they do. A true artist never stops exploring. It’s not possible.
There is such an extraordinary loss to the culture at large with the way things are now, because of truly innovative and honest work not being shown to the public, among a plethora of other reasons. Hmmm, I s’pose this could be another diary for another day, and I will get to work on it. Look for it sometime after the election.
Being an Artist is Not Stupid
It never was. The life of an artist is well worth living despite all the stupidity and frustration. And hey, there is plenty of stupidity and frustration to go around no matter what you do, so you may as well chase your dreams. And if you are a painter, all kinds of delightful magic comes your way. Your field of vision, color sensibility and thought processes get peeled wide open. A few of my bright pink smile blog quotes to illustrate this point are below. I seem to like the word; point. It’s a good word. It’s pointy.
Yes, painting is work. It’s really hard work. But if there is no element of fun, or wonder, or bliss, or communing with whatever it is you call god, then what’s the point?
Like stepping sideways or through the looking glass, deeper truths could only be expressed in anthropomorphic allegory. That is the best I can explain it. Beyond that, I also zoomorphize objects. Places have spirits. Everything I paint has a soul, and this makes perfect sense to me, being something of a pantheist. I don’t paint what I know exactly, for what would be the point? I paint what I need to understand further.
The night it snowed, as the flurries were finishing up their work for the day, I was watching the sky through the bare branches of the neighboring trees turn from a grayish-violet to that ethereal faded rust of high-pressure sodium vapor. We find our beauty where we can get it.
Sometimes, often, I feel it is medically necessary to keep painting.
You have to listen to that little voice deep inside you. Not the crazy ones near the surface, but the calm inner voice that reminds you of your true value and worth. You can hear it in silence. As an artist who has stood the test of time, who has developed a durable flexibility, the outside respect will come. It will return. But it has to radiate from the center.
And most importantly, I’m still painting, I’m still creating and learning and growing. I’m still alive.
Real Success for Artists
If your work is evolving, if it is challenging to you, if it improves over the long haul, if you are having some fun along with all your hard work and you are involved in some pretty good conversations with your muse in the process, then you are successful. If you inspire someone else along the way, even better.
Shameless Promotion Department
‘Cause who else is gonna do it for me. Go to my painting site and enjoy. After sharing your FP with us, of course. That’s Stegosaurus below.
www.alexalev.com