Success and Fail Again

A few words on art education and career advice

School has just started, so it's timely to consider art education. Since I don't have one, I'll have to rely on testimony.

A new kind of school bus. Gouache on paper.

The Crit

Sarah Thornton's classic Seven Days in the Art World devotes one chapter each to various institutions, from auction houses to art fairs, biennals, and the Turner Prize. She also dropped in to a class at CalArt.

Michael Asher, known for his works of institutional criticism (or situational interventions, as he calls it), led seminars for students of the Masters of Fine Arts program at CalArt, known as "crits." Thornton documents one of these sessions, observing it as a fly on the wall. ”Whether it's deemed art or not,” she writes, ”the Post-Studio crit is Asher's greatest and most influential work. It's a thirty-year institutional critique that reveals the limits of the rest of the curriculum." Crits are the opposite of lectures, they are an opportunity for students to present their own work. As Thornton explains:

Group critiques offer a unique ... situation in which everyone focuses on the student's work with a mandate to understand it as deeply as possible. Crits can also be painful rituals that resemble cross-examinations in which artists are forced to rationalize their work and defend themselves from a flurry of half-baked opinions that leave them feeling torn apart.

Sounds familiar? As artists we are supposed to come up with some explanation of what we do, and perhaps why it supposedly matters to the rest of society. I don't think lawyers, dentists, nurses, or programmers are required to defend their professional activity in similar ways. Nor does anyone ask them if they can make a living on their hobby.

Thornton argues that crits are vital to understanding how the art world works. In her painstaking observations of everything that goes on in the crit, Thornton notes that someone takes the opportunity to do some drawing from life, which is not on the curriculum, although they teach it to animation students. My impression, mostly based on hearsay, is that students are expected to have already acquired some basic level of technique and craft when entering higher art education, otherwise they will have to pick it up on their own if they should need to. Being a good draughtsman or having a sense of colour is not required, but having a project is. What are considered necessary skills have changed a lot over the years.

It used to be said that some art colleges instructed their students only "up to the wrist" (in other words, they focused on craftsmanship) while CalArts educated its artists only "down to the wrist" (its concentration on the cerebral was such that it neglected the fine art of the hand). ...the prevailing belief is that any artist whose work fails to display some conceptual rigor is little more than a pretender, illustrator, or designer.

Thornton recounts the fumbling presentation of a student who appears to be involuntarily thrown into the situation too early in the process:

Falling apart in a crit is not as shameful as one might expect. Intellectual breakdown is ... an expected part of the MFA student experience.

The point is that everything should go to pieces, the student should feel confused and lost, questioning their own assumptions; those students who never go through that experience are "uneducatable." Indeed, as I recall from an interview when applying as a composition student, a professor asked me if I would like to have my aesthetics challenged. In hindsight, it is obvious that the correct reply would have been a resounding – Yes! (I studied composition at another school). Professional artists are expected to reflect and comment on society around them. What could be more important in their education than self-reflection? They need to know what they are doing and why.

Then you graduate and, if you're lucky, use your student exhibition to launch a career as a contemporary artist. Some cling on to the institutions for a PhD in artistic research where such a thing is available. I've even seen some school that offers post-doc positions in artistic research. Eventually, though, every artist has to build their career somehow.

Networking, globalisation

In a potentially depressing study, Fraiberger et al. have quantified the career path of artists based on their exhibition record. Their study aggregates enormous amounts of data: half a million artists followed over a 36 year period, with almost 800 000 exhibitions in some 23 500 museums and galleries, not to mention auctions, so you can't accuse the authors of cherry-picking. By the way, the last author, Albert-László Barabási, is a known profile in network theory and has written an accessible popular science book on the topic and even put up an exhibition about artist networks. Networks of course matter in determining the success or otherwise of an artist career. But, what the study shows is that early access to prestigious institutions is the best predictor for the continuation of the career. Those who exhibited in highly reputed institutions during the first years of their career had a greater chance of remaining active 10 years later, and they had proportionally more access to prestigious institutions than their less lucky colleagues who had started at low-prestige venues. Most of the latter group had given up their artist career after a few years. But some of them continued and a minority of them very slowly gained access to more prestigious institutions.

Preferential attachment is the name in network theory for the process responsible of creating hubs or nodes that link to many other nodes. Having many links translates to having many professional contacts who might want to collaborate or help in various ways. Those who already have lots of valuable contacts thus attract even more contacts, which explains the phenomenon of success to the already successful.

The authors of the study actually propose a few radical solutions to counteract the trend of success to the successful, such as lotteries where exhibition slots are randomly assigned. It is by no means sure that most art institutions would be prepared to resort to such radical measures. Much difficult work would be saved the committees who pick the successful candidates among numerous proposals, but they would have to be willing to let go of their own influence. The assumption one would have to accept is that the quality of art is so far from objectively determinable that decisions might as well be delegated to the roll of a die. From what I have heard about the process from those who have sat on these committees, some works provoke heated discussions between a divided jury; in other cases the decision can be pretty unanimous. The quantity of project proposals to evaluate can be overwhelming, and the time available for deliberation is limited. The arms-length principle may be hard to enforce when artists who sit on the jury have to judge their peers in a relatively tightly knit artist community where people tend to be more or less acquainted with each other.

One very readable book (in Swedish) in the genre of advice for the aspiring contemporary artist is the one of Schibli & Vilks, How to become a contemporary artist in three days. Their provocative text questions many of the unspoken assumptions that are pervasive in the art world. More precisely, it does not question the validity of those assumptions as much as it exposes them and points out how important it is to be aware of the way the art world actually functions and play along with it if you want to have any chance of success. One case in point is to identify the current trends and not try to make art projects in an outdated idiom. They go to some length explaining the difference between modernism and contemporary art, because they find that many aspiring artists assume they would still be able to eke out a career in a modernist format, typically in painting. There are reasons for why this fails, or has often failed, in a contemporary art context, where the project's topic or narrative should overshadow the medium and formalistic or aesthetic concerns.

In observing that there is still such a thing as art religion, Schibli & Vilks suggest the attitude of awe certain artworks are met with is something to use to one's own advantage, not necessarily something one has to believe in. Their clever advice often bordering on cynicism sometimes clashes with the ingrained assumption of the artist as an honest and genuine personality. They stress the importance of networking and provide concrete advice for how to play the social game. Coming up with an idea for an art project should not be hard, they write, you could simply leaf through a newspaper for some suitable topic. Achieving a basic level of success should not be that hard either, if you follow their advice; in fact, the emerging artist doesn't have to be a genius and present the perfect project, it is sufficient to make art at the mediocre level of the average artist, they argue.

Two decades have passed since Schibli and Vilks wrote their book, and some aspects of the contemporary art world have changed in the meantime. For example, the attitude back then may have been that painting is not dead, but it surely smells funny (to paraphrase Frank Zappa), and video art was perhaps a bit more popular than it is today. But in large the art world changes relatively slowly, and most of their advice still apply and are regurgitated in newer guides written for the emerging contemporary artist.

Contemporary art is sometimes specifically referred to as International Contemporary Art, because it has indeed become global. Regional differences can be seen (and can be deliberately explored, as in the Nordic pavilion's Girjegumpi installation in the 2023 Venice Biennale, featuring Sami artists), but the system is international.

Artists are expected to have an international career and, I believe, art students are encouraged to take a year abroad. Last year there was a decision in Norway to require student fees from international students at a level typical of many other countries but previously unheard of here, and there was some debate about the negative consequences. Only wealthy students would have any chance to study here, obviously, which would drastically cut the number of foreign students. The educational environment would be impoverished as a result of the more homogeneous background of students. I won't argue with any of that. However, the path towards internationalisation has met, or might be going to meet other stumbling blocks, such as cultural boycotts and geopolitical tensions. A fully connected global art world seems again beyond reach, just as it was beginning to approach that goal. (Aude de Kerros, in one of her books, has carefully documented the growth of this globalised system up to 2019, which may turn out to be an inflection point. The globalisation process may be due for a reversal with the global system splitting into regional centres, or a split into NATO-aligned countries and de facto plus aspiring BRICS members which might have consequences also for the circulation of culture. This is only speculation, of course, we will have to wait and see how it plays out.) But at least the art world has its own international language.

The sociolect of International Art English has been derided for its vacuous, pompous formulations. The most striking samples of IAE are usually found in press releases, no literary masterpieces by any means and often written in a hurry; therefore one should be careful not to generalise to everything that is written about contemporary art.

I don't know exactly what literature is currently on the curricula of various art educations, but there used to be a hefty dose of post-modern writers and some post-colonialist theory and gender studies. Post-modernism is an obvious source of empty language games that trickle down into exhibition press releases, forming the backbone of International Art English. If there is an excuse for this kind of writing it might be something to the effect that "complex thought demands convoluted language and jargon”, but one is left with a suspicion that little would remain if the message had to be stated in plain terms. I will have to offer a short sample quoted in a piece on so-called Zombie Formalism:

Outwardly, the rain paintings associate with anti-figurative and non-objective practice. … His work acts as a tangible moment, a chronicle of exploration as he negotiates with existence. He reminds us that an artist’s trajectory is a sensory reflection of individual experience.

I would like to think that students, established artists, and curators alike have grown tired of this jargon by now. On the other hand, jargon serves a real purpose as a gate-keeper, it distinguishes the in-group from the outsiders. As such, being able to engage in proper contemporary-art-speak is useful for the insiders. But maybe the art world can do just fine without the worst excesses of IAE.

Excessive theorising is also a potential problem. If art students learn how to explain what they do and want to achieve, maybe the most important thing to do after a completed education is to go through a process of unlearning and question the validity of the received dogmas. Sara Damaris M. writes:

There’s nothing wrong with an intellectual approach to art, per se, but it seems to me that its dominance of the field has been a problem, gradually burying the visual under layer after layer of theory. We have all visited an exhibition we’ve enjoyed on some level but not quite understood, skimming the press release for guidance, often to no avail. In such cases, I don’t believe the issue is with the work – which resists all our intellectual bubble wrap anyway – but with how the work is disseminated through language: titles, press releases, descriptions, and so forth. Over the decades, this has thinned out audiences for visual art, catering for increasingly niche, specialised visitors.

Instead of the intellectual focus, art could become more emotional. I'm not sure if the part about thinning out the audience is true or not. In any case, all that theorising might not be so helpful after all, at worst it might turn people away.

A neoliberal turn has long been felt in academia, and it also affects art education, as Joan Fowler argued more than a decade ago. The old-fashioned ideal of an education that encourages critical thinking, curiosity, and generally develops a 'good character' was complemented with ever more concern for producing knowledge in measurable quantities and in forms suitable for the market economy. Some years ago there used to be economists who cheerfully proposed culture as a vitalising engine that would make capital flow into urban areas crowded by museums, concert halls, and theatres. In places where they did get their way I'm not sure that the culture itself was vitalised, since this kind of policy often drains resources from smaller actors with a more experimental profile and closer ties to artists, and concentrates them in the hands of large institutions. If art's autonomy against the market is still valued, then education cannot follow the same logic of profitability by producing creative individuals with a vitalising effect on their community, or whatever buzz-words would be used to sell the concept.

This Is Not Career Advice

Is it worth taking an art education if the chances of making a living as an artist are minuscule? And are we educating too many artists since few of them will have successful careers? The ways of making a living and keeping some kind of artist project going are not limited to working on one's own project full time. Many are able to combine their projects with other jobs, such as teaching, or inventing new niches as tutors or advisors for other artists. Seen in the most cynical light, some of this resembles a ponzi scheme. More optimistically, it is a valuable knowledge and skill transfer from teacher to pupil.

There are courses and mentorship programmes with the stated purpose of helping develop artists and get them on track to sell their works. Without doubt these programmes may be useful for some artists, at some point in their career. The mentorship programme of Amsterdam based st-Art offers various services including consultations with curators. Among their not so modest ambitions they state that "... our Mentorship Program is designed to empower you to create art that will change the world."

In stark contrast to the crit visited by Sarah Thornton, where "creativity" is viewed with suspicion and critical reflection is paramount, these mentors have no trouble with creativity or any other artistic clichés. Creative activities are stress relievers and help people becoming better problem-solvers, st-art explain in their offer of workshops for corporate team building. I'm sure there are less pleasant activities you can engage in for the sake of team building. Although a few of their formulations veer on the unintentionally comical, there is nothing wrong with offering painting courses to young aspiring artists or corporations who can pay for it. That's the market logic of having an art education and trying to make a living from it – become a tutor and profit from the fact that there are still people who dream of becoming an artist.

Key to marketing mentoring or courses is to play on the fear and insecurity of the potential client. It is hard to succeed, to sell your art, or getting noticed in any way at all in the attention economy, in the midst of all competition. Those are the facts you need to point out, if you are one of those who offer your career advice to artists, before stretching out your helping hand to the confused artist with a promise that only you will be able to push their career in the right direction.

Contemporary Art Issue, or CAI, is another "hybrid platform for contemporary art" that offers general advice as well as one-on-one consulting. Let me stress that I don't question the validity of their advice per se. In an article titled How To Become A Successful Artist in 2024 they correctly point out that the number of exhibition opportunities are limited, and collectors are scarce. Following their advice the aspiring artist is supposed to have much better chances of success than if you don't.

Becoming a successful and professional artist ... is easier said than done, considering the tremendous number of artists and the limited number of exhibition opportunities and collectors. But before we can try to beat the odds, we need to have a clear career strategy first.

The art you make is the most important key to success, according to CAI, who rates its relative importance at 50 %. Although they don't say, and cannot say what your art should be like, it must be contemporary, which means that it should be relevant today and bring something different and, why not, exciting. Networking is another necessity, because you will need other artists to promote you. Finally, they mention online self-presentation and an aesthetic or thematic consistency and integrity. I tend to pity artists who get stuck in their consistency, no matter how good for their career it is.

The unwritten rules of the art world are hard to divine for someone who is not a part of it. CAI admonishes against the bad, unproductive advice offered at unnamed youtube channels, which usually lead to continued invisibility or, at best, an increased number of online followers. They write: "we aim to solve this issue once and for all to level the playing field, and make these unwritten rules of the art world accessible to everyone."

Looking at this from a systemic, rather than the individual point of view, we see that there is no plan for increasing the number of opportunities (in the particular case of CAI this is perhaps not fair, they do have a gallery or viewing room), the only option at offer is to spread advice by online articles or videos, and personal consulting, which will presumably make those who follow their strategy more likely to succeed. That is what they mean by levelling the playing field. But if the number of opportunities remains fixed, the same number of artists will fail. All this focus on personal success is only to be expected in an individualist and market dominated society. But as soon as you start thinking about it in systemic or society-level terms, you realise that there must be other ways than the zero sum game of competition. It could lead to Joseph Beuys' dictum Everybody is an artist. Fortunately though, everyone doesn't want to be an artist, especially not full time. Moreover, it cannot be denied that some are more apt and able to create more interesting or "better" art than others, regardless of the trouble of defining quality.

If you follow CAI's 10 Habits of Successful Artists (work, and work a lot, do everything for art, invest in materials, education, networking, etc) your career is probably going to go much smoother than if you don't. But there is a serious chance that the end result will be some combination of ruin and burnout, and there is absolutely no guarantee of success. Many success guides tell inspiring stories of artists (or writers, composers, and so forth) who struggled but finally managed to reach the top against all odds. What they always fail to mention is that for each success story there are thousands of less successful cases doomed to oblivion.

Unless CAI had also insisted on the importance of cooperation with friends and "putting your ego away" these habits would make for an unpleasant narrow-minded careerist whom people would rather avoid. Also, heeding the advice for successful artists may appear as being subservient to the status quo of the system, far from the romantic myth of the artist as visionary and rebel. But, if you want to succeed in the art world as it is, you should accept its premises and play along according to its rules, as these success guides invariably point out.

Another list of factors that make or break your career reads less as advice and more like a sobering reality check. Looking at the factors (contacts, assets/money, time available for project work, career to date, ambition, location, etc), one realises that many of them are beyond one's control, or very difficult to do anything about in the short term.

Personality traits such as grit, perseverance, courage (I wouldn't list "artistic talent" as such, because I believe it is predominantly a matter of extensive practice, for which you need grit) may be positive factors that increase the chances of a successful career, and the same goes for contingencies such as what kind of family you come from and where you grew up. It's genes and environment, and once you have them it might be too late to do much about it beyond tweaking some details.

We probably all know someone who was talented and could have developed into an interesting artist, who understood that being a full-time artist would be incommensurable with reasonable economic security and comfortable living, and therefore opted for some regular job. However, with late-stage capitalism and uberisation of large parts of the work force, the difference as to personal economy between a "regular job" and an artist career might be less glaring than before.

References

Samuel P. Fraiberger, Roberta Sinatra, Magnus Resch, Christoph Riedl, and Albert-László Barabási (2018). Quantifying reputation and success in art. Science 362, 825–829.

Aude de Kerros (2019). Art contemporain, manipulation et géopolitique. Paris: Éditions Eyrolles.

Martin Schibli & Lars Vilks (2005). Hur man blir samtidskonstnär på tre dagar: handbok med teori. Nora: Nya Doxa.

Sarah Thornton (2008). Seven Days in the Art World. London: Granta Books.