POST #155: ON GETTING ADVICE YOU DON’T WANT TO HEAR

An artist I know called me up a while ago complaining that nobody wanted to show or buy her work, or even adopt it temporarily. Her basement was filling up with huge rolls of painted canvas that had no place else to go. She announced that she was discouraged and thinking of going back to her high-paid but not very exciting life as a computer programmer. I’m afraid I wasn’t very helpful and didn’t give her the answer she wanted to hear. I quoted an anecdote my Russian friend Elena was fond of telling about a young poet who, in despair, goes to see a friend, an old poet. The young poet is terribly unhappy; he complains to the old poet that nobody wants to hear his poems or buy his books. He is thinking of giving up being a poet and doing something else. The old poet shakes his head sadly and says: “If you CAN give it up – you should.” 

And that’s how I feel about being an artist of any kind. If you CAN give it up – you should. The world certainly needs plumbers and dentists and accountants far more than it needs more poets, writers or painters.

Well, this is not what my (now ex) friend wanted to hear and she hasn’t spoken to me since. She wanted me to tell her it was only a question of time till she became rich and famous and everybody wanted to fete her and buy her work. But, that’s just not how the real world works. If you want to be an artist, (of any kind) it has to be because you have no choice and that if didn’t live a creative life, you might just as well shrivel up and die. The truth is that there is no job with fewer external rewards than being an artist. For every one who succeeds in making even a modest living from their art, there are dozens who live below the poverty level or are supported by indulgent parents or spouse.

Art is a calling, not a career any more than going into the priesthood or becoming a teacher in a poverty stricken neighborhood. Now that I’m more or less retired and free to paint full time, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and I look forward to getting into my studio every morning. Not that I had such a terrible life before – I had an interesting career teaching art history and writing about preservation. I had a loving marriage and three wonderful children. I’ve had lots of ups and downs in my 87 years and the bad times (I never told anyone about them) were horror stories, but, as long as I was able to go into my studio, I felt I could survive anything. Aside from the sheer pleasure of moving up and down the canvas with a brush in my hand, I now look forward to seeing what I am capable of when I give it my undivided attention. When someone asked my friend, the esteemed sculptor Reuben Nakian, what it took to be a good artist, his answer was simple: “You just need to live long enough.” That’s my goal.