ART EDITORIAL

The Artist in Albany County

In general, the average artist is poor, statistics put him or her at or below the national poverty line.  For the most part, they are impoverished workers, working for retailers who make a decent commission from the work they produce, but artists themselves don't get a decent salary in return. In all the plastic arts, there's a high cost to profit ratio, material prices are outrageous, and little thought is given to the provision of space for artists. What's more, in tough times there is an idea that there is no more frivolous endeavor than painting and sculpture;  people stop purchasing art for obvious reasons. 

Why do so many true artists fail? Personally, I don't see why this has to be so. And why do some arts organizations believe they must make such a killing off people who are at the bottom of the local, regional and national feeding chain?   Why do we insist on publicly seeing many of these arts organizations (a little too idealistically, I'd say)  way up in the sky like butterflies enjoying the beautiful sunlight, while, for all tense and purposes, many artists privately see them often as bottom feeders. True artists deserve as close to a 'living wage' as possible, while arts organizations must be able to make enough money to cover operating expenses in order to help artists. Yet artists with and without subsistence wages must be secure enough to freely rattle their own art cages, demanding sales at fair market value like any other business person as well as fair organizational fees. Artists themselves must be willing to ask for patronage from local businesses, corporations and even private citizens. Seeking patronage is right and dutiful for every artist, just as being a patron and giving to the arts is the civic right of the public. Artists should abandon the mistaken belief they must 'pay their dues' in order to live up society's quite lofty social perception of them. Independence, autonomy and empowerment are the requirements of the successful artist in order to make more than a pittance enough from their work.

The ideal situation for arts organizations would be to ask of artists the minimal of what it would take to be profitable and still leave enough for the artist to be able to create. Their provision for daily operating expenses should not come primarily from artists, but from other sources, including government granting organizations as well as local, regional and national businesses and corporations.

Advice to artists: artists need to be business minded, too. Yes, it's difficult to market your own work, it's a totally separate mindset that most artists don't train for. Learning this anew is mind-blowing, but turning to that segment of the retail market that specializes in art sales is no less daunting mostly because of the artist's ego. What's most uncomfortable, I guess,  is the idea of giving control of their images and careers to agents or reps. If you don't wish to be at the mercy of those who will abuse you, you must learn to protect your interests by understanding the art market, taking on new business concepts and models of trade. If you can cut out the middleman, more power to you, it will enable you to bring your art to market yourself. In lieu of that, look for organizations that truly want to assist you, avoid those that are constantly hitting you up for contributions and costly fees. Luckily these days we have the web, which is a great way to be seen worldwide, but there are websites that are unscrupulous and do not give you the attention you need. In your research find businesses that cater to artists and their needs; galleries that are really representative of you and your working aims.

(And let's not forget charities-- they say, if you give, you'll reap rewards-- but oftentimes there's a leisurely attitude that thinks artists can afford to give away their hard work fast and easy. If this is your organization's belief, be certain that you are receiving a great gift, respect the artist and don't just give this hard earned work away. Such organizations must make a statement about the relative importance of the sacrifice of hardworking artists in the equation of need. If you're an artist who gives, give to reputable organizations with a good track record who puts equal attention on each unique piece of art. Don't just give out of some perceived, but unrealistic notion of charity in trade for honor).

I certainly don't want to stand in the way of progress. The real roadblock for all artists is a  refusal to see things realistically. Art patrons and organizations must help the artists they can. There are organizations with more support, more money and resources and more people behind them most of us artists have, they shouldn't compete for the very resources that sustains us. If all they can offer us is a level of local entrepreneurial interference -- then they aren't helping us at all. In Albany County we should look for organizations that provide real opportunities, real assistance and support for artists and offers commitments to job creation. We need an "Art Project" that gives artists something to look forward to not weakens us.

My suggestion to young artists... make cards, tee shirts, design clothes, sell prints, self publish... anything to have control over your own art, whatever it is, make your own exhibition opportunities until you are your own arts organization. Be the guardian of your own best interests. Learn the ropes of business early. Be ambitious, be strong and believe in yourself, but don't settle for "assistance" from local organizations promise things they can't deliver.

Gamut's

PAINTING

On Photography & Art Jan 2002 [republished]

by Linda Lillegraven

Wyoming Landscape Artist

Linda Lillegraven, from Laramie, was the 2001 Grand Prize Winner of the Arts for the Parks Competition held annually at Jackson. The $50,000 award went to her Bank of the Yellowstone oil. A panel of three national art experts reviewed over 2200 entries.

How I Work

Whenever I'm outdoors, my brain is in "observation mode." I try to always be aware of light, and color and form, and of the ways my eyes and mind perceive and interpret these things. But when the light is especially promising, I grab my sketchbook and camera, jump into my old truck, and set out in search of new images. I might drive up to Shirley Basin again, a vast open area north of Medicine Bow, Wyoming. There's little traffic and it's usually easy to pull off the, road when my "mental view-finder" sees something interesting. I'm not looking for any single picturesque subject, but rather for the right combination of good design, color, space, and even mood. The light may be right only for a moment. I'll stop, leap out, shoot four or five reference photos, and maybe make a thumbnail sketch. . But by far the most important thing that I do is remember that moment, and why I felt it would make a good painting. It's especially important not to allow the photograph to "take over" my mental image of the scene. I don't have (and wouldn't want) a photographic memory for all the details. But the better I train myself to remember the smell of the wind, the sound of the dry grass, and the feeling of being alone in a vast space, the better my work becomes.

WHY THE CAMERA IS DANGEROUS

There's, a saying that "the camera doesn't lie." In our culture, at least, photographs are given the bye it of the doubt as records of truthfulness. More and more, they are the way we experience the visible world. But of course, human vision isn't a series of snapshots. It is a complex, dynamic interaction of eye, brain, and experience. The camera does lie, but it has no imagination. For example, the difference between the lightest lights and the darkest dark tones visible outdoors on a sunny day is many times greater than the difference between white and black on the surface of a photograph (or painting). Your eyes adjust automatically when you look from sun into shade and back again in a single scene. The camera, however high-tech, can't do that, and renders shadows as featureless black patches. (Or, if the shadows are properly exposed, the sunlit areas will appear washed out). The secret to making your camera a useful reference tool is to spend time sketching outdoors, making color notes, learning to be a good observer, and learning how to translate your camera's lies into useful information. Those sketches and notes will not impress your friends and relatives the way a painstakingly copied photograph will. You may never even want to show them to anyone. But they will be the first steps on the road to developing a real artistic vision.

SO WHY DO I PAINT IN THE STUDIO?

Many artists feel that the only way to "capture the moment" with freshness and spontaneity is to work outdoors from start to finish. But we all have different goals and priorities in what we're trying to accomplish. The search for harmony and balance is important to me, and that requires time for reflection.

I like to think of my paintings as a kind of poetry. A good poet can use familiar words and standard grammar to help us see beauty where we had never noticed it, or to deepen our understanding of our place in the universe. Such poems aren't written "on the spot." They are revised and refined, set aside and taken up again, and turned over in the mind until they are as spare and perfect as the poet can make them.

Gamut's