POST #160: FILTHY LUCRE: Working for the Mighty Dollar

As most of my readers know, I taught art history at the University of Connecticut for over 22 years. Ancient, Medieval, Renaissance, Modern etc. etc. All the great artists I taught about worked ‘on commission,’ rarely for their own pleasure. Today, we would have called them “commercial artists.” With few exceptions, everything they did was for a wealthy client, usually the church or royalty. They did not look upon themselves as “geniuses,” creating work that might or might not be sold. Of course there were exceptions, eccentric anomalies like a mystical Blake or an exiled Goya, or a wealthy JMW Turner. The greatest artist of all, Rembrandt, did his finest work towards the end of his life when he was no longer in demand and just scraping by selling prints and teaching a handful of students.

When I was growing up in New York City right after the Great Depression, the few artists I actually knew supported themselves and their families by teaching and an occasional sale of work. Unlike today, an artist could live inexpensively and most (men) had working wives who supported them. Currently, I do not know a single artist who survives off his or her art; they either have a pension, savings, inherited wealth or a working spouse. From time to time one of them will sell something, but if they had to depend upon sales or commissions, they would starve.

In a way, knowing that you can’t earn a living off your artwork is liberating. It means you can do whatever you like without thinking about a buyer. Where there is no art market, there’s no need to worry about it. For example, I can paint without concern about a buyer. If I die with an attic full of unwanted paintings, some starving artist will be happy to re-use my canvas and there’s always the recycling center at the dump.  I’m currently working on a giant, 6’x12’ triptych, the last in a series of three that look like Russian Constructivist stage sets. They’re the best work I have ever done. Nobody is going to buy them because no one has room to put them up. When I have some bills to pay, I can take on a historic preservation review project for the City’s zoning department and when that contract runs out, I can always take in boarders. That’s how people did it during the Depression when I was growing up. It beats making artwork that ‘goes with the drapes.’

I’ve done pretty well the past year or two, sold quite a lot of work, mainly from my “rooftop” series based on the view from my daughter’s New York apartment. They are a lot easier to live with than my voluptuous ladies of the night. Since I had a broken ankle, I couldn’t get to Curley’s Diner and the city skyline had to suffice as inspiration.

credit to:
Robert Callahan

In a way, I envy my artists friends who had successful careers as commercial artists and art directors in New York City. They do very finished looking work, nothing edgy or offensive, all of it eminently saleable. One of them puts layers and layers of varnish on her work: abstract paintings with beautiful colors. They sell like the proverbial hotcakes to office decorators. I know another who paints romantic clouds wafting over Florida beaches, also a best seller. This is what they were trained to do: create a product for a market. Even when they try to do something off the beaten track, there’s a slickness and a desire to please in their hand that they can’t get rid of. In a way, I envy the ease with which they turn out work that sells, but I was trained to be a starving artist (although I haven’t missed a meal yet!) 

Since I’m obviously not in it for the cash, what’s my current goal?

First, to keep working for a few years more; I think I‘m getting really good. And….

I would love a decent sized retrospective in a major gallery or museum while I’m still around to enjoy it.

Renee Kahn