I’m super excited to be writing this post. I’ve been thinking about this topic for over twenty years, from the time I started making and selling fine art. To clarify, I’m specifically using the term “fine art”, as a contrast to commercial art.
In commercial art, an artist has a responsibility to make a client happy. I owned a mural company with my buddy Paul for many years, and I had great fun and learned a ton, all things that I would later use when I transitioned to fine art. However, we never did a mural that expressed our own voice. To be honest, I wouldn’t have known how, as I was completely unaware of my voice at the time.
In fine art, it can be tricky to know exactly what one should do. Is it the artist’s job to make something which is pleasing to others? There’s nothing wrong with bringing a smile to another’s face, is there?
I had some difficulty in the early years of my career with making sense of this conundrum. Am I here to please myself or others? Sometimes I’ve felt, and still feel, completely comfortable in the role of what I consider to be an “entertainer”, making something with the idea that it might inspire others. Other times, and quite often, I think of myself as a visual philosopher. I’m working out ideas about life, and expressing them on paper and canvas in search of some serious answers.
Over the years, I made my peace with why I make art, though my answer only applies to me. Every artist has their own reasons for creating. Here’s where I landed. As much as possible, I block out ideas of what I think other people might want me to create. I create what I would want on my own walls. For me, this is the most honest I can be as an artist. It’s my way of saying to myself, and maybe to the world, that I have a voice. My feeling, however, is that all humans share a great deal of joys and fears. If I’m feeling something, and I find a way to express it, even if only for myself, there’s actually a good chance that whatever I create might resonate with someone else. To be honest, I’m most inspired when I see this in other’s works, when I sense they are baring their souls in some way. This is why art is so important to me, because it speaks to and from the human spirit. It aches and it loves.
All of what I’ve been saying so poorly is beautifully articulated in the David Bowie video at the top. Please give it a whirl.
I’d like to explore the idea of predictability versus originality. In nearly all industries, predictability is a good thing. If one can count on a product or experience as being a good one, it’s a very good thing. Being a native Californian, I’ll use In-N-Out Burger to illustrate the idea. For those of you who haven’t experienced In-N-Out, it’s incredibly clean and the employees are amazing. They have fun, iconic uniforms and are super hard working and friendly. Ordering is a wonderful experience. The food is all made fresh, and you can taste it’s freshness. It also always tastes the same. And it’s affordable. They don’t change their menu either. They have burgers, fries, drinks and milkshakes. That’s it. They figured out their model decades ago and never changed it. Beautifully predictable.
In most industries, predictability is good. Clients are happy and happy clients make happy owners. And then we have art. Well, gallery owners invest a lot of time and money, and they need to sell a lot of art to keep the doors open. If a gallery owner can predict what people might want, and figure out how to give it to them, they should have success, at least in principle. Unfortunately, the idea of fine art throws a wrench into that formula. In art, one can create something, sell it like crazy, make a bunch of money, and be succeeding not one bit. In fine art, success is not defined by that which sells, but by that which honestly expresses the heart of the artist. Can’t you just see the conflict coming?
I want to be clear about something, so I’d like to back up just a bit. When I describe a gallery owner, investing in their business and needing to find what they can sell so they can keep the doors open, I don’t mean this at all in a bad way. This is merely a description. In addition, for me, and for many artists, a gallery is the best way to approach the business of selling art.
Unfortunately, financial success and creative success are defined very differently. As I’ve described, financial success can often be linked to predictability. And creative success is all about originality. Predictability and originality are opposites, so we’ve got ourselves a problem.
I’ve been keeping a list for years, of instances in which these forces have met and problems arose. Here’s a few…
My favorite artist, Wayne Thiebaud, decided to pursue gallery representation in NY in the late 1950’s. He walked from gallery to gallery with paintings of cakes, ice cream cones, and hot dogs. He was turned down by everyone. Abstract Expressionism was considered the only acceptable painting style at the time. Galleries had closed their thinking. They predicted they could make a living by selling what people wanted, and they thought they wanted Abstract Expressionism. While Wayne was sitting on a stoop in defeat, the gallerist Alan Stone walked by, and seeing that Wayne had some canvases, inquired about them. Even Alan thought the paintings were silly, but he decided to keep some of them just to sit with for awhile. After six months, Alan called Wayne and offered him a solo show in his gallery. The show sold out, with several pieces selling to major museums. The rest is history.
Tom Petty made a name for himself in the late Seventies and Eighties, creating hit songs like American Girl and Refugee. In 1987 and ‘88, Tom started writing and recording a random assortment of songs and decided to package them as his first solo album. His record label refused to release it. They didn’t think the new songs “sounded like” Tom. In other words, his new creations were original, so they didn’t want them. They famously fought over it. Tom won, and Full Moon Fever was released in 1989. Hit songs Free Fallin’, I Won’t Back Down, and Runnin’ Down A Dream made the album the best selling of Petty’s career.
After many long years squeaking by as a songwriter, Willie Nelson finally made it big and became known for his outlaw country music. Under contract for more albums, Willie decided to depart from that genre and create an album of standards, covers of the music he grew up with. His record label refused, warning him that it would be a terrible mistake. He, too, refused to back down. Released in 1978, Stardust was the biggest album of Willie’s career, selling over five million copies.
Linda Ronstadt was a massive star when she decided to make a Spanish-language album as a love letter to her family and her Tucson-Sonoran roots. Her record label tried to talk her out of it. The resulting album became the best selling Spanish-language album of all time.
Nearly everything that’s original or visionary is misunderstood at the time of it’s inception. The world adores Impressionism, Abstract Expressionism, and Pop Art, but each were initially met with deep scorn.
The task of making original art and presenting it to the public is, by necessity, a risky one. There is no formula for making art.
I’ve been very fortunate to have worked with several galleries that have supported my need to find and express my creative voice. At times, they merely stood to the side and let me do my thing. Others actually helped me find my way to that voice, a rare experience that I’m deeply grateful for.
Such an insightful piece. It’s the ever present conundrum. I’m currently on the ‘make for myself’ side of the pendulum and very glad to be back there at this moment in time.