when non-artists talk about artists and money

ask better questions

That is a guiding imperative in my art practice and my work with artists.

I was interviewed for an online column called Money Talk (read the full interview here), writers and artists discussing how they deal with finances. Lovely interviewer, great idea.

And yet. Underneath the questions, I heard echoes of the assumptions that cling to conversations about artists and money.

Here are some of the questions annotated with my annoyance.

Again, the interviewer was lovely, and I admit I’m a bit sensitive around these issues. But we are all conditioned to make limiting assumptions about artists and money. Maybe pointing them out helps us resist them.

Do you write full-time? 

My annoyance: That being a “real artist” means making a full-time living from your art. Very few artists make a full-time living from selling their work—probably around 2-3%, and those artists are mostly concentrated in specific industries and cities. Most art—and most important art—is made by artists with multiple revenue streams.

My response: I don’t care for the term “full-time writer/artist.” In my experience, most artists spend a similar amount of time actually making their work: between 1/5 and 1/3 of their working hours. Some spend the other hours earning money at an unrelated job; some spend the other hours promoting their art, dealing with agents, clients, galleries, and grants.

When I waited tables to pay the bills as a young choreographer, I was a full-time choreographer: Everything I did with my days was to support my artistic practice. Later, when I made a living from my dance company, I was called a “full-time choreographer,” but I did not have more time in the studio. Rather, my non-rehearsal hours were spent raising money and planning board meetings instead of serving brunch.

Did you study writing (or something else) or has it always come naturally to you?

My annoyance: The idea that artists are Special Humans with gifts that “come naturally,” rather than devoted professionals who hone their craft over decades.

My response: Very little that I care to do comes naturally to me. Making dances is still the hardest work I’ve ever taken on. I didn’t choose it because it came easily, but because it felt impossible, unimaginable and thus unimaginably exciting.

When you first started writing, were there any financial challenges?

My annoyance: What? Of course there were financial challenges. Everybody has financial challenges. I resist the idea that artists’ money problems are categorically different from everyone else’s.

My response: Everyone has financial challenges. Work that capitalism undervalues—art, social work, farming, spiritual practice, activism, community building—has an added challenge: I can’t simply apply for “job of choreographer” and start cashing checks.

Time and money are my—I might say the—structural challenges as an artist. There are other challenges to making art, some of them beautiful and spiritual, but the things I see stop artists, myself included, are time and money.

The positive way of saying that is: If I have a reasonable budget that pays for my life and a reasonable schedule with time for art making, I can make my art. Forever. I focus on those two numbers: the dollars I need to earn and the hours I need to spend making art each month. There are many, many ways I have gotten to those numbers in the last thirty years, but always by treating it as a math puzzle, not as a question of my value or success.

What advice would you give someone who's creative or wants to change their lifestyle about balancing passion for their art and earning an income?

My annoyance: Mostly the words "passion" and "lifestyle," and the fantasies non-artists have of quitting their jobs and living a "passionate lifestyle."

My response: Definitely make art. It is a powerful addition to life, a form of devotion that feeds the artist and feeds the world.

Set up your life so you can keep creating. Think in decades, not years. Art is a long, gorgeous arc.

Making art and earning money can overlap differently at different times. I have earned 0% of my income from art and 100% from art. Both were great revenue models; both helped me make work that was important to me and to my community.

Earning money from my art does not make me a real artist. My commitment to my practice is what makes me a real artist. Period. A dollar earned waiting tables is worth exactly the same as a dollar earned making art.

Tell me a financial rule that you never break.

My annoyance: None. This is a great question. It’s personal and specific, and it does not position artists as Special Humans. I'd love a whole interview like this.

My response: I only buy used cars, only from individuals, and I always get it looked at by a trusted mechanic. No new cars, no dealers, no loans. I know the difference between depreciating assets (cars, computers) and appreciating assets (real estate, investments.)