Blog Archives
Pearls from artists* # 689
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
This is what I wish someone had told me years ago:
The art world is not a meritocracy. Like the world at large, it is a system based on hoarded capital and exploited labor. This system owes you nothing, even if you have extraordinary talent, work tremendously hard, never give up, and do all the right things. There are no ‘extra points’ for effort, earnestness, dedication, or sacrifice.
(We ALL think WE are going to be the exception.)
Unless you have fantastic connections or pedigree, after you build and maintain the basics of making strong work and getting the word out, a great deal depends on luck. Many of the artists you admire are likely living difficult lives you might not be willing to live, making sacrifices you might not be willing to make. Many who appear to support themselves with their work are in fact, partially or fully supported by spouses, family money, or jobs they do not discuss. They keep these jobs secret because some art world players refuse to validate your work if you are not ‘seriously committed’ enough to be a full-time artist. (Of course, artists who were not born wealthy need validation from these very players to be ABLE to create full-time.)
Kate Kretz in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice
Comments are welcome!
Q: It must be tricky moving pastel paintings from your New York studio to your framer in Virginia. Can you explain what’s involved? (Question from Ni Zhu via Instagram)
“Impresario” partially boxed for transport to Virginia
A: Well, I have been working with the same framer for three decades so I am used to the process.
Once my photographer photographs a finished, unframed piece, I carefully remove it from the 60” x 40” piece of foam core to which it has been attached (with bulldog clips) during the months I worked on it. I carefully slide the painting into a large covered box for transport. Sometimes I photograph it in the box before I put the cover on (see above).
My studio is in a busy part of Manhattan where only commercial vehicles are allowed to park, except on Sundays. Early on a Sunday morning, I pick up my 1993 Ford F-150 truck from Pier 40 (a parking garage on the Hudson River at the end of Houston Street) and drive to my building’s freight elevator. I try to park relatively close by. On Sundays the gate to the freight elevator is closed and locked so I enter the building around the corner via the main entrance. I unlock my studio, retrieve the boxed painting, bring it to the freight elevator, and buzz for the operator. He answers and I bring the painting down to my truck. Then I load it into the back of my truck for transport to my apartment.
I drive downtown to the West Village, where I live, and double park my truck. (It’s generally impossible to park on my block). I hurry to unload the painting, bring it into my building, and up to my apartment, all the while hoping I do not get a parking ticket. The painting will be stored in my apartment, away from extreme cold or heat, until I’m ready to drive to Virginia. On the day I go to Virginia, I load it back into my truck. Then I make the roughly 5-hour drive south.
Who ever said being an artist is easy was lying!
Comments are welcome!
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