Yeah, you heard me. Think I’m joking? Nope. And no, I’m not just trying to get your attention. By the way, if you’re a successful artist, this article isn’t for you. I hate you. Go away. Now move along...… Still here? Alright, let me tell you why you should stop being an artist.
Let's address the elephant in the room: as an artist, you
suck. You're not exactly selling like nasi lemak. No matter how many paintings,
sculptures, or prints you produce, they're just not flying off the walls. The
occasional red dot on your artwork's nameplate might have felt like a victory,
but let's face it, those moments were few and far between. So, what do you do?
You keep pouring money into canvas, paint tubes, and brushes, convincing
yourself it's an investment for the future. But in reality, your studio space
is slowly turning into a dusty storage unit, filled with unsold creations that
seem more like burdens than assets.
And we're just talking about those random open-call group
exhibitions you eagerly enter every time you had a chance. Now, let's discuss
the art competitions you've participated in. How many awards have you raked in
since your debut as an artist? Been a finalist? Honorable mention? Invited to
participate in a finalists exhibition, only for your artwork tucked away in a
dark corner while the winners basked in the glorious spotlight? Pfft, lmao stop
being delusional. Those hardly count as achievements (The Guardian, 2020). Most
people won't even blink if you list them all in your beloved portfolio. Yeah,
not even those “Finalist of Bakat Muda Sezaman” or “Finalist of UOB Painting of
the Year” entries. No one really cares if you didn’t win anything (Artsy, 2017).
They’re useless.
“It’s okay. I’ll persevere. Art is subjective. I just
haven’t found someone who likes my work yet. But one day, I will.” Uh huh. Keep
telling yourself that, idiot. At this point, you’re just burning your
hard-earned money. You'd be better off spending it on fireworks or cigarettes.
At least those provide some immediate satisfaction. Investments are supposed to
yield returns, but churning out more and more artwork just to have it sit in
storage collecting dust isn’t an investment. If you can't find someone willing
to collect your work within 5 to 10 years of your debut, another decade isn't
going to change that (Thornton, 2008).
Let me ask you, why did you want to be an artist to begin
with? Was it because Associate Professor [Walter White] told you so? Or because
you thought your Bachelor of Fine Arts degree was so useless for anything else
other than being an artist? You had just trapped yourself in a very narrow
minded worldview. And then when you failed to become an artist, you’ll have no
one else to blame but yourself. Let me tell you something: the art scene may
look like a rosy garden, but beneath the beautiful scenery and sweet scent lies
a path full of thorns. You chose to walk this thorny path without being ready
to face the painful moments, even though there are many other paths available
for you to take.
The Malaysian art scene in particular, is more like a
kampung than a rose garden: small, saturated, and conservative, inhabited with
“jaguh tempatan” and ruled by self-appointed lords. Galleries are like
neighbors you visit once or twice a season for an exhibition, which is akin to
a kenduri. These kenduris are attended by the same people over and over again, so
you’re bound to either befriend them or loathe them. And you expect these
people to suddenly open their hearts and wallets for your art when there are
many others who are either more marketable or more skilled than you? Good
luck...
I dare say that the local art market is a bubur lambok
potluck; everyone brings their own unique flavor to the table, but only a
select few are deemed worthy of a second helping. It’s as if the art scene
operates on its own “boleh” logic, where success is measured not by talent
alone but by a mysterious recipe of connections, timing, and sheer luck. I
can’t help but admire your resilience persisting in your pursuit of
recognition, despite facing unsurmountable obstacles that would make Sisyphus
question the wisdom of his own eternal task, just as I was...
Yeah, I wrote everything above based on my own
experiences as a failed artist. If you want to continue down this thorny path,
please, go ahead. But trust me, giving up is also an option. Don’t listen to
those successful people bragging about how they made it because they never gave
up. They conveniently leave out the important details—the real reasons for their
success. More often than not, it's because they were already wealthy, had connections,
or simply got incredibly lucky. Bill Gates? He was the son of a wealthy businessman.
Ray Kroc? He was a swindler. Mark Zuckerberg? Loads of connections with trust
fund kids who attended Harvard University. Steve Jobs? He was...uh..
ruthless... Okay, so we are the 99 percent who must create our success stories
from scratch. And being an artist isn't the only way to achieve success.
I’ll give you a name of a “failed” artist. Remember
Charles Morin? Of course, you don't. Even Pepperidge Farm doesn't remember him.
Because being an artist wasn't meant for him. He was meant for something
bigger. So if you can't find success as an artist, don't worry - neither did
Charles Morin. Sometimes, giving up on one thing doesn't mean you need to give
up on finding your true calling. You may not know Charles Morin as an artist,
but you most certainly remember Winston Churchill. Because Charles Morin and
Winston Churchill were one and the same. Well, he didn’t actually give up
completely; he turned his artistic career into a hobby once he ventured into
politics, just like his arch-nemesis in Germany...
Do I manage to convince you to give up being an artist?
Great! Congratulations! That’s a bold and brave move. So, what are you going to
do with your skills, knowledge, connections, and that Fine Arts degree? A lot
of things, actually. Let’s start by examining your skill set.
If you're so good at stringing words together, why not
dip your quill into the inkwell of art writing? Instead of concocting grandiose
tales about why you paint a cartoonish political clown, dive into the swirling
currents of the art scene. Watch the tides of creativity ebb and flow, and pen
pieces that capture your observations and musings. Heck, why not take a jab at
your old rivals by donning the mantle of an art critic and giving the art world a
taste of your wit—just for kicks! Sure, the paycheck might not be as fat as
what those pesky artists are hauling in, but at least you won't be hemorrhaging
cash on canvas, paint, and brushes. As for the ratio of art writers to artists, let's just say it's like searching for a needle in a haystack. Who needs
precise numbers anyway? It's not like anyone's bothered to crunch the data
(because, like you, many people want to make artwork instead of researching something,
for some reason). And that leads to my next brilliant idea...
If you're the type who gets a thrill from uncovering
hidden gems and diving into uncharted territories, becoming a researcher
is right up your alley. You don't need to wrap your head around quantum physics
or flaunt a fancy PhD to delve into the mysteries of art. All it takes is a
healthy dose of curiosity and a hunger for knowledge. Trust me, the art world
is a treasure trove of untold stories and untapped secrets just waiting for
someone like you to shine a light on them. Take COVID-19, for instance. How
much do we really know about its impact on the art scene? Not a whole lot, I'd
wager. So why not join forces with me to peel back the layers and uncover the
truth? Together, we can pave the way for a brighter, more informed future.
Becoming a leader in writing and research doesn’t fit
your personality? Would you rather take a career sitting in a dark room, like your
studio? Fret not. Introducing, the illustrious art historian or the elusive art
archivist—two more paths ripe for the picking in our grand artistic adventure.
Picture it: spending your days knee-deep in dusty tomes, forgotten manuscripts, and exhibition catalogs, unraveling the mysteries of centuries past with the
flick of a wrist and the stroke of a pen or keyboard. Or perhaps you fancy
yourself as the Indiana Jones of the art world, scouring ancient artworks and
hidden archives for clues to unlock the secrets of our Malaysian heritage. But
let's not kid ourselves; it's not all glamorous discoveries and thrilling
escapades. You'll also be wading through endless piles of paperwork,
deciphering cryptic handwriting, and playing detective with missing documents.
And don't even get me started on the glamorous world of art archiving—where every
day is a battle against dust mites, mold, and the ever-looming threat of paper
cuts. But hey, if you've got a penchant for the past and a stomach for the
mundane, then who am I to stand in the way of your archival aspirations? After
all, someone's gotta keep track of all those masterpieces gathering dust in the
attic, right?
Nothing catches your interest so far? Do you still think you
are cursed to be a failure? Fear not, dear disillusioned artist! If none of the
options above tickle your fancy or the weight of past failures has you
contemplating a complete departure from the world of fine art, fret not. You're
not alone in this creative crossroads, and there's still a myriad of paths
waiting to be explored beyond the confines of the canvas. Perhaps it's time to
broaden your horizons and venture into uncharted territories, where your
artistic talents can find new outlets and fresh audiences. Think outside the
frame and consider unconventional career paths that harness your unique skills
and experiences. After all, dropping the mic doesn't have to signify the end of
your artistic journey; it could be the prelude to an exciting new chapter
filled with unexpected twists and turns.
So, where do you go from here? Well, the possibilities
are as vast as the creative cosmos itself. It may be time to embrace your
inner entrepreneur and launch a passion project that combines your love for art
with other interests or causes close to your heart. Or you're drawn to
the world of technology and innovation, where your artistic sensibilities can thrive
in the realm of digital design, virtual reality, or augmented reality.
Don't let past setbacks define your future. Sure, you
suck as an artist. All you have done might felt like a waste of time. But
instead of groveling in depression, view them as valuable lessons that have
equipped you with the resilience and determination to navigate whatever
challenges lie ahead. Remember, every masterpiece starts with a blank canvas, and
every setback is just a brushstroke in the grand tapestry of your artistic
journey. So go ahead, drop the mic, and let the world witness the next chapter
in your creative evolution. The stage is yours for the taking, and the
spotlight awaits your triumphant return.
References
The Guardian. (2020, October 6). The art world's shameful truth: Nearly all artists are forced into poverty. The Guardian.
Artsy. (2017, November 2). The true value of art prizes.Artsy.
Thornton, S. (2008). Seven days in the art world. W. W.
Norton & Company.
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