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!
Pearls from artists* # 597
Barbara’s Studio
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
From earliest childhood, the boys had been treated differently from their sister. They were allowed more freedom, encouraged to play outdoors and to engage in rough and tumble, and their lives were expanded early on when, at the age of seven, each was sent to St. Mary’s, the prep school of Stonyhurst College. It seemed as if the boys were being readied for adventure and excitement, but while their horizons were opening up, Leonora [Carrington] felt hers were being closed down – or more specifically, never explored. Her role, which was clear even when she was in the nursery, was to keep safe: not to rock any boats, not to take any chances. What they sought to teach her was that she should sit a certain way and behave a certain way: she should be supportive, helpful, polite. She should listen, especially to men, she should have traditional skills, such as playing music and speaking French. Drawing and painting, for which she showed altitude from an early age, were fine within reason. What harm could there be in Prim [Lenora] creating pictures? Especially if those pictures were of flowers and trees, family members and characters from fairy stories.
But art was Leonora’s secret weapon – and she hid it in plain sight, because her parents did not have the faintest idea where her talents might lead. Art, for them, was unthreatening and pretty. They had no idea that this skill their daughter was developing would be one the key to another life entirely; still less that art could never be a validation of the status quo, but meant a radical reappraisal of everything in the artists sight.
So what Leonora practiced in the nursery at Crookhey was the subversive silence of smoldering rebellion. Spared by the inherent unfairness that gave Pat, Gerard, and Arthur so much freedom; stoked by the growing realization that she had a talent that would lead, eventually, to Liberty. “I always painted, and I always knew it was what I would do,” she said many years later. As the Jesuits who educated her brothers at Stonyhurst might have said (but didn’t): show me a girl aged seven, and I will show you the woman.
Joanna Moorhead in Surreal Spaces: The Life and Art of Leonora Carrington
Comments are welcome!
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