One of the most eye-opening experiences of my life took place one afternoon in Amsterdam, in the summer of 1990. A hundred years after the death of Vincent van Gogh, his paintings had been gathered from collections across the globe, for a spectacular Centenary Exhibition in the Van Gogh Museum.
Such was the demand for tickets that I had to buy mine two days in advance. When I finally got inside, I wondered from room to room in a kind of trance, bowled over by masterpiece after vibrant masterpiece, each one familiar but bigger, brighter and richer than any prints I’ve seen before or since. I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and stayed for hours until we were shepherded out by security.
That building held staggering artistic riches – but the financial scale of the exhibition was no less mind-boggling. When you consider the auction value of a single van Gogh painting, the cost of borrowing, transporting, insuring and protecting virtually the artist’s entire oeuvre must have been astronomical. Factor in the money spent on marketing the exhibition and generated from the sale of tickets, catalogues, prints, and endless other items of merchandise, and the amount of cash involved starts to look obscene.
The irony, of course, was that all of this wheeling and dealing was in the name of an artist who famously died penniless, disillusioned and despairing. Van Gogh was the ultimate artistic martyr, ignored by a cruel world and an art market that failed to reward his talent.
The irony gets deeper and crueller when you consider that the legend of van Gogh the tortured artist has contributed to the rise of his posthumous fame – and the price of his paintings. His tragic tale has been immortalised in novels, poems, films and songs. His name is now a byword for misunderstood genius.
Would we accord van Gogh’s paintings the same reverence if he had lived to be old, fat, rich and conservative? Hardly. His paintings are undisputed masterpieces, but like the Mona Lisa, the mythology has helped the marketing.
It’s almost as if poverty and suffering made him a better artist.
Let’s face it, we find it easier to love our artists when they are young, poor and idealistic. There’s apparently something infinitely nobler about starving in a garrett and making sacrifices for your art than dictating your latest screenplay to one of your minions as you sip cocktails on the edge of your swimming pool.
One of the most damning criticisms that can be levelled at an artist is that he or she has ‘sold out’, forsaking artistic integrity for filthy lucre. The consensus seems to be that creativity and commerce are worlds apart, and that money necessarily corrupts artistic talent.
But does this popular view represent the truth of the matter? Not according to Tyler Cowen it doesn’t.
Does Capitalism Support Creativity?
In a book provocatively titled In Praise of Commercial Culture, Cowen argues that, far from corrupting the arts, capitalism actually fosters creativity:
The capitalist market economy is a vital but underappreciated institutional framework for supporting a plurality of coexisting artistic visions, providing a steady stream of new and satisfying creations, helping consumers and artists refine their tastes, and paying homage to the eclipsed past by capturing, reproducing, and disseminating it.
(Tyler Cowen, In Praise of Commercial Culture)
One of the ways he supports this claim is to present numerous examples of acknowledged artistic geniuses who pursued wealth with enthusiasm and success.
Many artists reject the bohemian lifestyle and pursue profits. The artists of the Italian Renaissance were businessmen first and foremost. They produced for profit, wrote commercial contracts, and did not hesitate to walk away from a job if the remuneration is not sufficient. Renaissance sculptor Benvenuto Cellini, in his autobiography, remarked, “You poor idiots, I’m a poor goldsmith, and I work for anyone who pays me.”
Bach, Mozart, Hayden, and Beethoven were all obsessed with earning money through their art, as a reading of their letters reveals. Mozart even wrote: “Believe me, my sole purpose is to make as much money as possible; after good health it is the best thing to have”. When accepting an Academy award in 1972, Charlie Chaplin remarked: “I went into the business for money and the art grew out of it. If people are disillusioned by that remark, I can’t help it. It’s the truth.”
(Tyler Cowen, In Praise of Commercial Culture)
Another of Cowen’s arguments is that a healthy market economy and popular commercial entertainment help to sustain avant-garde and minority artists. In the Middle Ages and Renaissance, art materials were too expensive and artists too dependent on conservative minded patrons and customers to be able to outrage public taste with their work. But by the 19th century the cost of art materials had fallen, so that artists were under less pressure to recoup the costs by selling the work – and were therefore free to indulge their own tastes. At the same time, the art market had grown so much that artists could earn a living by appealing to minority tastes. Similarly, many publishers have made most of their money from popular bestsellers, allowing them to publish more literary works at a reduced profit or even a loss. In cases like this, popular culture is essentially subsidising more refined tastes.
So bohemian outsiders like Baudelaire and Bukowski may rail against the bourgeois tastes and morality of mainstream culture, but according to Cowen their niche art is actually supported by the market forces they despise.
Even poor old van Gogh benefited from the market economy – and not just after his death:
Falling prices for materials have made the arts affordable to millions of enthusiasts and would-be professionals. In previous eras, even paper was costly, limiting the development of both writing and drawing skills to relatively well-off families. Vincent van Gogh, an ascetic loner who ignored public taste, could not have managed his very poor lifestyle at an earlier time in history. His nonconformism was possible because technological progress had lowered the costs of paint and canvas and enabled him to persist as an artist.
(Tyler Cowen, In Praise of Commercial Culture)
What Do You Think?
Does an artist go down in your estimation if you discover he or she was ambitious for money?
Does capitalism corrupt creativity or support it?
How do you manage the tension between creativity and commerce in your own career?
About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet and creative coach.
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1 2 Next »An artist is in no way dimmed in my estimation simply because they are driven by money. Some of my favorite artists of all time were chasing the almighty dollar, even those who front as they they aren't.
Nice post, Mark.
In no way does the pursuit of good pay *require* diminished artistic production. Mentalities differ: there are some artists for whom money is a distraction, but there are probably many more for whom the *lack* of money is a much bigger distraction.
The myth of "selling out" is, I fear, one of those stories artists often tell themselves to justify their lack of commercial success after the fact, because it's clear from your examples (Bach, et al.) that remaining unstained by commercial success is *not* a requirement for artistic achievement.
1. I gauge creative output on its own merits, not by whether the artist created it for financial gain and/or made a lot of money from it.
2. Artistic creation / creativity is corrupted by the artist, not by an economic system. The need and desire to survive however, can certainly make for more difficult choices on the part of the artist.
3. As for the *tension* (great choice of words) between creativity and commerce in my career, I'm not an artist, but have often felt I had to make certain product or offering compromises I didn't really want to make in the name of survival.
Nothing feels ickier.
I think it boils down to creative integrity. If the artist's passion or voice are being stifled or completely thwarted for the sake of monetary gain, we all "pay the price" for it in the long run--particularly the artist.
I'm still coming to terms with this lesson in my own work and as such, am currently in the process of having to make some tough decisions.
Thanks for your always-thoughtful output, Mark, and helping to keep me on track.
This phrase caught my eye:
"It’s almost as if poverty and suffering made (Van Gogh) a better artist."
Did it? Or did it make him more marketable, by making his accomplishments seem that much greater because he had such a crappy existence and therefore seem relatively better?
Back to the point at hand:
I think it's unfair to look down on anyone who wants to make a living (and a comfortable one) based on their skills, talents, and passions except...
Well, there's a problem. The problem is that societies and governments tend to dictate morality, codes of behaviour, and determinations about good vs. evil. Here are some "skills" that many would say are immoral or otherwise unfit for public behaviour:
- Assassination
- Torture/Terrorism
- Sexual techniques
- Theft
- Emotional manipulation
etc.
Creativity, regarded in isolation, is much more benign that these ideas, yet the sparks of creativity lie throughout the above.
Nonetheless, we seem to value artistic/creative skills and talents as being more pure and selfless and therefore people are sometimes shocked and disgusted by the desire to maximize your income by "going commercial". I remember a friend railing upon Charles Dickens years ago because he "padded everything he wrote for profit", as Dickens was supposedly paid by the word for some of his work. We also sometimes look down on people who take on commercially popular work instead of doing more critically acclaimed work. But the fact remains that bills have to be paid and, given a choice, most people would rather live in pleasant surroundings that they can control than to live in a messy, chaotic environment which hinders more than helps.
Is there a line, though, that creative people shouldn't cross? It's probably no different than for other kinds of professionals. Creatives produce goods and services like other kinds of workers.
I think the line, though, is regardless of whether or not their work is commercial or popular, creatives will tend to draw criticism if their quality becomes inferior. We expect creative people to do their best, always, to challenge and excite us. If they perform lackluster work that attempts to capitalize on their reputation and popularity without meeting their normal standards of quality, regardless of genre or audience, that's when they cross the line, IMHO.
Sorry for the long-winded reply, but it was a very interesting question!
People who become artists to make money, rarely make any. If an artist does make money it is merely a validation of his/her work
Agree with @ David Moulton - if money is the sole driver it doesn't always work out.
I think we have to phrase the issue as "Is it alright for an artist to make money from his/her talents?" The answer is, why not??
Capitalistic societies, especially tech enabled ones, empower artists and enable them to find their niche and benefit from it. One of the issues is that many artists hate the business side of things, don't embrace it, and thus don't commercialize their work effectively and live as "starving artists". Knowing how to make money from one's art isn't selling out, it's good business.
As an artist myself, who also knows multiple artists who are living solely off their art and very comfortably at that, I think selling out is actually less enabled in a capitalistic society like we have today.
Why? Because if someone demands that an artist change this or that, the artist can often just say "no" and do it themselves and leverage their fanbase, niche, etc. The music world is full of examples of this.
Good read, and something to think about as well. I think you helped clarify the topic on hand.
I'll hang around and comment on any post that catches my fancy, keep up the awesome writing! :)
Consider a recent tweet of mine:
BMW video featuring corporate "art": http://bit.ly/ErehO The real art they ripped off: http://bit.ly/JDixH
Both by "real" artists, both paid, and in my estimation only one is selling out here.
The sad thing about this post and these comments is they reflect and either/or thinking re the arts when many of you (based on my own experience) might be hard pressed to name a single contemporary artist working today. Van Gogh pursued money his entire life... his friend Gaugin had it but died sick and penniless on a remote island.
As long as we discuss things as binaries (choosing between two things) we are doing exactly what the corporate world wants us to do; namely, to think as consumers. But we can hardly think of ourselves as consumers of art if we don't even know what is going on in the arts.
Mark Rothco's death by suicide (cutting wrists) was famously romanticized as well as his "last painting." The fact that the people who would like to profit from saying really stupid stuff about art will always be there doesn't mean there is some "choice" to be made. If you aren't looking at art that is being made today, you've already made the choice the money people want you to make.
My twitter feed is http://twitter.com/igotmyreasons
Thanks for the post & discussion
The thing Van Gogh had right was not listening to anybody but himself. As Hugh says, Ignore Everybody. As @kidmercury just wrote, selling out is a term relative to one's own view.
An artist's gotta make art. Plain and simple. How they do that and look at themselves in the mirror is the whole shebang. Everybody has their own gut check. I know I do. How people perceive my actions based upon my gut check is really not any of my business nor in my control. When people try and control the reaction to their actions is when I think they become inauthentic, sell out, and get, as Mary Anne used, ickier.
Thus the trick is to stick with that individual gut check and not be swayed by, um, people.
Did Metallica sell out? Newsted once said something like, yeah we sell out, every show. The problem with capitalism is its flattening, commoditizing effect. It's hard, as Brian noted about me today, to find a niche that people already know about while sticking to one's original creative idea. It's probably why most artists hire people to promote them and their art so they can in their own minds keep the two separate. The problem is that that separation is a lie. The public's perception will then be the marketing, which will further disconnect the artist from his art and it's initial purpose.
I paint my portraits to create conversation pieces for people to connect with their music, their culture, their memory and to celebrate that with others, to connect and pay tribute to the music, the photography, the people who create our culture. Anything that brings me sales with that known goal is awesome and honestly, as I've said before in my blog, the money is a means to create more art and to give my wife the life she and I want.
Oh, and I'm doing it my way.
Peace.
@Writer Dad - "even those who front as they they aren’t." - of which there are plenty!
@ Tim - "there are some artists for whom money is a distraction, but there are probably many more for whom the *lack* of money is a much bigger distraction." Exactly. Either way, it's the distraction, not the money itself, that's the problem.
@ Mary Anne and Daniel - Agreed that listening to your gut/creative integrity in the face of outside pressures is one of the hardest things to do. It's great when it works out and we feel vindicated, but there are plenty of times when the logical argument for compromise is hard to gainsay.
@ Mark - I guess we all have to decided where we're prepared to draw the line . The more successful/prominent you become, the more people there are who take it upon themselves to tell you where you SHOULD draw it. John Hegley wrote a very funny poem about Otto Dix, whose later work was criticised as not being up to his early standards. It ended:
@ David - Yes, money is a nice reward/validation, but if we're not focused on the joy of the work itself then paradoxically it won't be good enough to earn any rewards.
@ Michael - Good point about leveraging your fan base to maintain your (artistic) independence. There are many more opportunities to do that these days than there were even a few years ago.
@ Fred - "The sad thing about this post and these comments is they reflect and either/or thinking re the arts" - Reflecting something doesn't necessarily mean agreeing with it.
"As long as we discuss things as binaries (choosing between two things) we are doing exactly what the corporate world wants us to do;" - I've met plenty of representatives of the art world who were just as guilty of binary thinking as corporate types.