, March 21, 2010
During an interview after a World Track and Field Championship, the
winner of a 100 meters hurdles event was asked what advice her coach
gave to prepare her for the meet. She described how she was encouraged
to focus on her own game and not be concerned by anyone else’s rhythm or
race. Sounds like good advice. It’s applicable to artists as well,
especially those of us who are easily influenced by the difficult
distractions arising from professional envy and jealousy.
It is hard to avoid competition with other artists when we bring our work out into the world. Unless strange motives dictate, few proposals and applications are submitted to a gallery, jury or call for entry– with the unique intention of losing. Since rejection is a given in the field (for some, more often than others) the apparent success of a chosen few can stab us when others have achieved what we ourselves want. Who wouldn’t welcome decent gallery representation to free up time for the actual work while others do the promotion and sales? Who wouldn’t feel bolstered by the encouragement and recognition bestowed by sales, grants, and prize endowments, especially if they arrive during a timely period of struggle and despondence when there are kids to feed and the money has been tight? What ultimate dream than to make a living as a full-time artist? The ongoing frustrations and disappointments artists cope with often provoke and intensify charged perceptions about the accomplishments of others.
Have I ever been jealous of another artist? Absolutely. Not only that, I dare anyone to come up with more devious ways than I of pretending the sentiment is other than what it is. For example, acknowledgments are couched in language that alludes to privilege in an artist’s life, the insinuation being that without the financial support of spouse, the connections of nepotism, or god forbid, their looks, they would never garner achievement based on their own merit. Or, generalizations about the injustice perpetrated by systems that reward the bizarre, novelty, mediocrity or the same thing over and over again. Incomprehension at how final selections relate to themed shows and competitions where my own entry was declined.
However, both splendid artists and otherwise, have equally starved. I do know financially stable artists who facilitate and support the careers of those less advantaged by generously donating time and energy in volunteer service. Some even buy other artists’ work. In spite of righteous indignation, those very same "flawed" systems have also conferred upon deserving recipients– even in my own opinion. Indeed it’s complicated when success happens to artists whose work you not only esteem, but actually like as people because they are friends and colleagues. Torn between genuine happiness for their sake, yet tamping down the impulse to snatch the 1st prize cheque out their hands, just to sniff at what $1000.00 might really smell like before giving it back. Deeply pleased for someone who at last, found the right gallery and clientele but wistful because no gallery has expressed any interest in your own work. Glad for a colleague who can now paint full-time– yet personally, exhausted from two part-time jobs that leave you scraps of time and rags of energy, for your own creative projects.
But jealousy thrives even among artists who have comparable résumés. Tastes do change. What was once exciting and saleable becomes dated and predictable (and then keeps selling which really bugs us even more). Dealers release artists who are no longer profitable. Many galleries, even long established ones, fold. Procuring funding once, doesn’t always guarantee another. Unexpected criticism can savage our work. New artists emerge every year. I have noticed though, that even when some artists ultimately receive gains they’ve always longed for– they’re too irritated to enjoy them because of being so use to perpetual toil and disappointment. Perhaps it’s the awareness that when abundance suddenly prevails, it too is subject to impermanence.
Jealousy isn’t necessarily a bad thing as long as we don’t take it out on those (or anyone else) whose good fortune we hold accountable for our own perceived failures. Artists do report increased motivation, commitment and work ethic upon learning what their peers have accomplished. The "if they can do it, I can do it" mentality is applied towards their own goals. The best way I dealt with malingering, conflicted envy was to approach the unsuspecting object of my emotions (and it was always someone I knew) and congratulate them as soon as possible. Poisons would drain almost immediately. Or, when things weren’t going well in my career, instead of attending a colleague’s opening, I would stay away to avoid bringing misery as my guest to their special occasion. If I viewed the show a few days later, my admiration would be far more present and I could honestly tell them how much I enjoyed their work.
Jealousy is an understandable part of the human condition. Many artists can’t control their first gut reaction to the accolades won by others, or the circumstances in lives that seem blessed with greater charm than their own. I endure the corrosive effects of envy less now than when I was younger because I no longer have as much time or energy for it. When you reach an age where random parts of your person begin to stiffen and ache, it’s amazing how fast a wandering focus on other people, snaps right back into one’s own affairs. I’m too pre-occupied with how many years I have left where I can still physically paint; they need to be spent minding my own business. The volatility in our profession does offer a chance for attitudes to shift and adjust. If prosperity can change or conclude without notice, our less than stellar situations fall into perspective. The studio, our work resumes its place, becomes the one constant, what we come back to. Full-bodied engagement with our creative process delivers its own reward. We might even discover, a wider, kinder definition for what we once thought of as success.
It is hard to avoid competition with other artists when we bring our work out into the world. Unless strange motives dictate, few proposals and applications are submitted to a gallery, jury or call for entry– with the unique intention of losing. Since rejection is a given in the field (for some, more often than others) the apparent success of a chosen few can stab us when others have achieved what we ourselves want. Who wouldn’t welcome decent gallery representation to free up time for the actual work while others do the promotion and sales? Who wouldn’t feel bolstered by the encouragement and recognition bestowed by sales, grants, and prize endowments, especially if they arrive during a timely period of struggle and despondence when there are kids to feed and the money has been tight? What ultimate dream than to make a living as a full-time artist? The ongoing frustrations and disappointments artists cope with often provoke and intensify charged perceptions about the accomplishments of others.
Have I ever been jealous of another artist? Absolutely. Not only that, I dare anyone to come up with more devious ways than I of pretending the sentiment is other than what it is. For example, acknowledgments are couched in language that alludes to privilege in an artist’s life, the insinuation being that without the financial support of spouse, the connections of nepotism, or god forbid, their looks, they would never garner achievement based on their own merit. Or, generalizations about the injustice perpetrated by systems that reward the bizarre, novelty, mediocrity or the same thing over and over again. Incomprehension at how final selections relate to themed shows and competitions where my own entry was declined.
However, both splendid artists and otherwise, have equally starved. I do know financially stable artists who facilitate and support the careers of those less advantaged by generously donating time and energy in volunteer service. Some even buy other artists’ work. In spite of righteous indignation, those very same "flawed" systems have also conferred upon deserving recipients– even in my own opinion. Indeed it’s complicated when success happens to artists whose work you not only esteem, but actually like as people because they are friends and colleagues. Torn between genuine happiness for their sake, yet tamping down the impulse to snatch the 1st prize cheque out their hands, just to sniff at what $1000.00 might really smell like before giving it back. Deeply pleased for someone who at last, found the right gallery and clientele but wistful because no gallery has expressed any interest in your own work. Glad for a colleague who can now paint full-time– yet personally, exhausted from two part-time jobs that leave you scraps of time and rags of energy, for your own creative projects.
But jealousy thrives even among artists who have comparable résumés. Tastes do change. What was once exciting and saleable becomes dated and predictable (and then keeps selling which really bugs us even more). Dealers release artists who are no longer profitable. Many galleries, even long established ones, fold. Procuring funding once, doesn’t always guarantee another. Unexpected criticism can savage our work. New artists emerge every year. I have noticed though, that even when some artists ultimately receive gains they’ve always longed for– they’re too irritated to enjoy them because of being so use to perpetual toil and disappointment. Perhaps it’s the awareness that when abundance suddenly prevails, it too is subject to impermanence.
Jealousy isn’t necessarily a bad thing as long as we don’t take it out on those (or anyone else) whose good fortune we hold accountable for our own perceived failures. Artists do report increased motivation, commitment and work ethic upon learning what their peers have accomplished. The "if they can do it, I can do it" mentality is applied towards their own goals. The best way I dealt with malingering, conflicted envy was to approach the unsuspecting object of my emotions (and it was always someone I knew) and congratulate them as soon as possible. Poisons would drain almost immediately. Or, when things weren’t going well in my career, instead of attending a colleague’s opening, I would stay away to avoid bringing misery as my guest to their special occasion. If I viewed the show a few days later, my admiration would be far more present and I could honestly tell them how much I enjoyed their work.
Jealousy is an understandable part of the human condition. Many artists can’t control their first gut reaction to the accolades won by others, or the circumstances in lives that seem blessed with greater charm than their own. I endure the corrosive effects of envy less now than when I was younger because I no longer have as much time or energy for it. When you reach an age where random parts of your person begin to stiffen and ache, it’s amazing how fast a wandering focus on other people, snaps right back into one’s own affairs. I’m too pre-occupied with how many years I have left where I can still physically paint; they need to be spent minding my own business. The volatility in our profession does offer a chance for attitudes to shift and adjust. If prosperity can change or conclude without notice, our less than stellar situations fall into perspective. The studio, our work resumes its place, becomes the one constant, what we come back to. Full-bodied engagement with our creative process delivers its own reward. We might even discover, a wider, kinder definition for what we once thought of as success.
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