Whenever anyone mentioned “a career in the arts”, my dad, who’d been an illustrator for most of his working life, would mutter “career, as in to go downhill rapidly, out of control”.
I’ve inherited his dad jokes and also his skepticism. It’s entirely possible for administrators to have a lifetime career in the arts, with all the trimmings: superannuation, health insurance, paid holidays. It might have once been possible for journalists and historians to have one too back when reading was popular, but as for artists: is art really a career thing?
Making art isn’t a career. It’s way more important than that. Art’s about communicating the ineffable. Art’s about truth. Sometimes nice, small, wholesome truth; sometimes difficult, unpalatable, unmarketable truth.
It’s about being shut away in your studio for days at a time only to turn out a piece of work so awful, so unlike the piece that was in your head, that you burn it.
Is it sounding like a career yet?
I’m suspicious of those social media marketing gurus who make a living promising ways to “boost your career”. Inevitably, their recipe includes diverting your art-making time to energetically promote your work, or yourself, or both. Spin the painting, wear those cheeky off-the-shoulder overalls, create a compelling back story, develop a recognizable style and get it out there.
Social media has a lot to answer for, from the razzamatazz, look-at-me of Instagram to the sober, sour smell of desperation on LinkedIn there’s a single message, so consistent and all-pervading that we take it on board without thinking. Push your barrow. Not successful enough? Push harder. The success metric they’re using is the one they use for their own business: it rates you on your sales, your growth, your turnover. Like you’re a shop.
That’s not a metric most artists have much use for. So, what does success look like to you?
More often than not, I’ve had a job to pay the bills and made art in the spaces between. The inconvenience of a job is more than balanced by the freedom to make what you want to make, to explore new subjects and media, and to playfully experiment without worrying about the outcomes. Exhibitions sometimes happen, sales mysteriously take place, but they don’t need to be a focus.
As Lydia Lunch once said “If it’s for the money, you’re not doing art. You’re doing commerce.”
Disclaimer: despite their similar views on careers, my dad and Lydia Lunch never met. To my knowledge.
art about place 