Artists in the Material World

After the Rain was partly inspired by Rothko's earlier works 

Artists have always needed patronage. It makes sense, really. Some people like to create art. Other people like to buy art. In a perfect world, these people find each other and all is good in the world. Some artists are fine with the arrangement, while others feel it to be flawed. Can artists feel good about themselves while also accepting payment for the art they create?

 Rothko's Seagrams murals at the Tate

Mark Rothko, an enigmatic painter to say the least, was once offered the equivalent of $2 million to create paintings for the Four Seasons restaurant in Manhattan's posh Seagrams building. In 1959, after working feverishly on the paintings for 2 years, he ate dinner in the restaurant where his paintings would hang.

Shortly after that he returned the money and called the deal off. He realized while sitting in that rarified atmosphere of the Four Seasons restaurant that these people would never comprehend his work. He once said that sending art out into the world was essentially a risky endeavor, as it would be exposed to unfeeling eyes that would cause it to wither. After his suicide in February of 1970, his Seagrams collection went to the Tate Modern in London, where lots of people can now enjoy them for free. Note that the room they live in is not well-lit, and this is exactly the way he wanted it.

An artist I know once said that the best way to make a small fortune in art was to start with a large fortune. Artists, it seems, have long been at odds with the material world. De Kooning was broke for so long before his big break that he took to painting with latex house paint.

Indian Summer would have made my grandpa proud

As a third generation working artist, I am no stranger to the question of how to make a living at doing art. My grandfather gave up his art for many years while starting a family, then went back to it later in life when he had become financially secure through other means.

I watched my single mother struggle with raising a child while making a living as a waitress and moonlighting as a graphic designer. She would be up late at night under a lamp doing her art in our tiny apartment. She finally was able to make a career of it much later in life, and is now living off her art.

A lot of artists who go to good art schools have families who can afford to send them there. I left home early and put myself through college. It took several years of professional work before I even allowed myself to think about an art career. At first it was just a grand experiment. Anyway I had been laid off my job, so I had nothing to lose!

The first painting sales were so surprising. I just could not believe it was happening. Then the guilt set in, and I felt terrible taking money for my art. But I needed to eat, pay rent, buy art supplies, etc., so I knew I had no choice. While I hated the idea of commercializing something that was deeply sacred to me, it quickly became apparent that I would have to let people to buy my work if I was to continue. I was lucky to have my family support me emotionally through the early years, as it was sometimes a difficult transition.

There have been a lot of internet polls about what people would do for $1 million. As crazy as it sounds, in a recent one 38% said they would euthanize their pet, and 8% would have a limb amputated. That's right a limb amputated. Would I turn down $2 million for putting my art in an environment that I did not approve of? Not a chance!