Self Portrait
Making a career out of the creation of artwork is tricky. On the one hand, you have this deep internal desire and drive to create- one that pushes and swells on the psyche until a point of discomfort. A creative who does not create has an emptiness within, a hunger that can only be satiated by allowing those abstract thoughts and feelings out through words, songs, and sculptures. On the other hand, patrons can’t see the hunger that lies inside your psyche- they are unconcerned with your vision, your process, or your inspiration. They are driven by what their Instagram algorithm feeds them, what catches their eye, and what matches their living room furniture.
This disconnect between artist and patron facilitates internal turmoil within the creator that never seems to dissipate. They wonder: “Do I create to satiate that inner hunger and regain the clarity and comfort that most people have by default, or do I produce work that pleases the masses and benefits my wallet while leaving my soul to starve? Do I spend my energy and supplies trying to feed my stomach, or nourish my spirit? Am I a creator, or am I a producer? ”
Applying to art calls and residencies is an expensive and painful process. A lot of rejection and a severe lack of closure is involved- oftentimes the answer you get starts and ends with “No”. Without explanation or guidance on how to improve your chances or how to better appease the grant committee, museum, or gallery. You are shown the winning artist's work and are left to confront feelings of jealousy and a sense of personal failure. The creator VS producer dilemma came to a head after applying for an emerging artist grant. A grant that was meant for undiscovered artists to gain clout and publicity to further their practice was given to an artist who has been active for over 20 years and has by all accounts fully emerged. When I looked at this artist’s work I saw visually striking pieces that used the same style, construction, and color palettes being reproduced and sold over and over again. This artist found themselves a niche and channeled their inner IKEA designer to recreate the same piece to match hotel lobbies of all shapes and colors. Their work was well made and beautiful- but it wasn’t art. It didn’t make me think, it didn’t challenge my view of the world, and it didn’t stimulate me the way that a great song or an iconic work of art is supposed to.
I thought to myself, “Who am I to decide what art is?" This artist was able to carve out a financially viable life by producing and marketing their work to the right audience- something that I haven't been able to do. I want my work to make a statement and make people stop and reconsider their existence and the way they interact with the world. For the most part, I feel like the portfolio that I've created meets this criteria, but moving people and making them critically analyze aspects of their lives doesn’t pay the bills. Making hotel art does.
Conceptual and process-based artwork isn’t valuable in the eyes of the patron of today. Producing beautiful landscapes and accurate portraits makes patrons notice you- even if these are essentially just recreations of the world as it is seen by everyone. After a year of applying to various artist calls, I found that docents, patrons, and art committees praise and recognize technically sound, visually appealing, and mind-numbingly boring, dull, work. This realization thrust me into this creation vs production dilemma. I know how to make hotel art, and I know that I can sell it, too- but what’s the point of being an artist if you are forced to produce and are unable to create?
This piece speaks to this dilemma and attempts to blend creation and production. A portrait recreated in oil pastel, colored pencil, charcoal, and chalk. 4 pieces that are visually striking, beautifully done, expertly made, and dreadfully trite. Individually these works are safe and easy to consume, they look pretty and don’t make the viewer think too hard- they are exactly the sort of work that frustrates me to see in art galleries. After spending several months completing this set of portraits I cut them up and rearranged them to create one final art piece. A piece that comments on the depressing nature of production and the dissonance it creates between the artist and that undefined hunger to create.