the business of art vs. the art of art

There is an anecdote about Vincent Van Gogh that I’ve heard and even repeated myself.  Van Gogh only sold one painting in his lifetime.  It’s often used as an encouragement to struggling artists.  If his work, which was so unique, brilliant, and beautiful, wasn’t appreciated, then you’re in good company if you find yourself in the same boat.  I’ve shared in my Four Things posts over the past few weeks that I’ve been reading THIS BOOK on the life of Vincent Van Gogh.  It’s a massive book, and it’s taking me forever to get through the audiobook, even though I’m listening to it on walks and at the easel.  I still have over 25 hours left.

But I’ve been taking notes and thinking a lot about Van Gogh as I’ve been listening to the story pieced together from records left by the family chronicler, people who knew him well, and from Vincent’s own words in his letters.  I teeter between feeling sorry for him and being really frustrated with him.

He had a lot going for him when it came to connections in the art world, but he was a champion at burning bridges and, at least up until this point in the book, chose the art of art over the business of art.

His brother Theo, who financially supported him during his decade as an artist, worked at a print shop and had the connections and ability to sell Vincent’s work.  Van Gogh had an avenue to make money as an artist, and his brother continually pleaded with him to “make saleable work”, but Vincent proved to be too stubborn and idealistic, perhaps distracted by his own obsessions, to produce work that buyers wanted.

Instead of focusing his efforts on marketable watercolor landscapes, he drew black-and-white portraits and figures.  He hired models and bought props and costumes to outfit them.  He poured his time, energy, (his brother’s) money, and artistic efforts into work that inspired him, convinced others would see what he saw.

source

He defiantly stated, “Since when can they force or try to force an artist to change either his technique or his point of view?  I think it is very impertinent to attempt such a thing. I will not let myself be forced to produce work that does not show my own character.”

But when all of his hard work, and he did work hard and was an incredibly prolific artist, didn’t produce an income, he wrote to Theo, “I am sorry I have not succeeded in making a saleable drawing this year.  I really do not know where the fault lies.”  The business owner in me wants to reach through time, grab him by the shoulders, and give him a good shake.  The fault lies in the fact that you are not willing to view producing your art as a business.  You are hung up on making art that only you care about, not pieces that sell.

I think it’s safe to say we’re all thankful that Van Gogh produced work that reflected his own character.  If he had relented and painted commercially viable pieces, we might not know his art today, and that would be a sad thing.  But this is a bad business plan for artists, and I use that term generally, who are hoping to make a living from their creative work.

Whether you design gardens, sew quilts, knit mittens, refinish furniture, bake cakes, write stories, or render paintings, there has to be a balance between the art of art and the business of art.  We can do creative work that we feel is important, that inspires us, that compels us, but we also have to pay attention to trends, accept commissions, and listen to feedback from wholesalers, retailers, and consumers.  Yes, it does mean compromise.  Yes, it does mean that your time and attention are split between what you want to do and what you need to do, but that is all a part of being a creative business owner.  It’s, in fact, a part of life.

Just something to chew on for myself and my fellow creative entrepreneurs.