Being an Artist in a Capitalistic Society

Yesterday, I was interviewed by a college student who was taking a Sociology of the Arts course. Fascinating stuff—not my answers, but the class in general. They talk about how art is formed by society and the ideals we hold. What are the arts like in a capitalistic society versus a communist society? Who decides the trends in arts? Who decides what art is? What is the role of a critic? What is the role of a patron? What roles do government and economics play in art? It made me want to take the class, especially after having recently seen the movie Exit through the Gift Shop, a movie about the commercialization of street art.




One of the questions I was asked was what advice I would give younger artists. One of the things I said is that you have to be a jack-of-all-trades. We live in a competitive society in which the artist must compete for patronage and favorable criticism. This isn't a simple road race; it is a decathlon. And you do a heck of a lot of training before compete. I do my work with the realization that it may be years before I am paid for that work—if I get paid at all. As you can imagine, I don't have many people who work under me. I have learned to do things for myself. I built my own website, sent a press release, designed and sent promotional cards, and wrote query letters. I am still working on doing the numbers. As an artist you frame your work, take photographs of your work, write blogs, address technology, write marketing plans, and network.  None of these skills came prepackaged in my college degree. You learn to fake it until you figure it out. Today, for instance, I am working on the cover art for my book and learning to design custom frames/borders for promotional postcards. Tomorrow, I am working on taxes. At some point, I must figure out how to connect my Twitter account to my blog and vice versa—and to get the links on my website. Did Picasso do all this?
 
Is this what it means to be an artist in this society? It is my experience. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when the sociology class participants give their reports on the interviews they conducted. What do our collective answers and actions say about our society? I'll leave you with one more of the questions I was asked. (I am paraphrasing.)
 
When did you first begin to tell people you were an artist/writer? My answer? I didn't feel comfortable telling people I was an artist/writer until I was getting paid for the work I did (even though the work I was getting paid for was done years previously).
 

Question

I had my first meeting today with my coach (career, creativity, life). During one sitting, I had compiled a list of roughly 130 questions to use to whittle down to one we could work with as a touchstone for our work. (She assured me that most, if not all, the questions would eventually be answered through this process.) She had me read the questions aloud while she took notes. Some of the question included:

How can I balance writing/art/workshops?

Should I focus on one area?

What do I see myself doing in 7 years when my kids have left the house?

What do I need in order to feel successful?

How does money affect my ideas of success?

How does my spiritual life inform my work?

What gender issues come into play in my work?

What is my last project trying to teach me about my future work?

After we reviewed the questions, Kathy asked for more details about my past. Why did I quit my job? Do the reasons I quit still apply? What do I think is the essence of Jill? (I had a hard time with that last one.) I filled her in on my creative and working life of the past ten years. Many a-ha moments later we came up with the question, How can I live my life to the fullest? This question was punctuated by a crashing leap by Kathy's cat. AMEN!

It may seem like a very broad question, but it encompasses so much of what I am trying to do. When asked leading questions about where I see my focus, I say I want it all. I like the painting and writing and workshop giving. I like raising my kids and making dinners. I like taking it all in and spitting it out in different forms. Like a conduit cable made of many wires.

Some themes did emerge. It became pretty apparent to me (Okay, Kathy told me and bells started going off) that I shut down when I receive criticism and direction. I don't like being told what forms my art and writing should take and this often has paralyzing results. We also discussed money which, interestingly enough, seems to be innately linked to gender roles in my mind. These roles are a big part of my process and art.

I am most excited to be going on this journey with Kathy. A former fiber artist who has studied gender roles in artmaking. That could describe me. I'm not sure where all this is going, but already today, I have written more than I have in the past month. I hope to journal a lot and make sense of this---starting with one large question.