Only in it for the money

Recently, my friend and student Becky Bense disagreed with my statement that “It’s not just that they were in it for the money; everyone is just in it for the money.”

Becky is herself incredibly generous, including a neat volunteer thing called tags4peace, where she converts your old holiday cards into gift tags. The profits go to Turning Points Network, which helps victims of domestic abuse and sexual violence in Sullivan County, NH.

I’m not arguing that people don’t volunteer; in fact, I believe that any balanced and worthwhile life includes service to others. However, in the case of artists, our culture intentionally blurs the line between work and hobby, wages and volunteerism. If you’ve been painting for any length of time, you’ve been asked to donate either your work or your time to a non-profit. “It’s great publicity,” they say, and in some cases, that may be true. Do it if you believe in the organization; ignore it if you wouldn’t give them an equal amount of cash. And set a firm limit; mine is one per year, maximum.

How the lines got blurred

The 18^th century was full of dedicated amateurs who contributed to science and culture, including Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin and Joseph Priestley. The accomplished lady amateur artist was another phenomenon of the 18^th century. There were no rules or prejudice against amateurs exhibiting in prestigious shows; however, their status as non-paid artists was clearly defined. The arts were a fundamental part of the gentleman’s and -woman’s education, and that included drawing and painting.

Of course, wide-ranging and varied interests required leisure time to pursue. They were very much the province of the moneyed classes. Modern American culture can’t support that kind of polymathy, since it’s the most overworked nation in the world. However, there are artists out there who work full time at other endeavors but use every spare moment to pursue art. Just as in the 18^th century, the exchange of money is no indicator of whether their work is good or not.

But it’s also possible that a professional artist can be equally brilliant. The laborer is worthy of his hire, and that goes for artists as much as anyone else. Consider the career of Charles Dickens. He remains the most widely-read of all Victorian novelists, and his social commentary influences our culture to this day.

When Dickens was 12, his father was sent to debtors’ prison. Young Charles quit school and went to work in a boot-black warehouse, working ten-hour days for six shillings a week. A young man from such a background does not have the luxury of writing for love. Dickens pioneered the serialization of fiction, writing most of his great novels in weekly installments in magazines. He, importantly, was paid by the word.

Another great craftsman who was in it for the money was William Shakespeare. Initially derided as an uneducated upstart challenging such university-educated playwrights as Christopher Marlowe, he concentrated on making the theatre a paying proposition. At the time of his death at 52, he was a wealthy man, but he also produced immortal prose.

Vincent van Gogh is often cited as an example of the gifted amateur painter, one who worked without remuneration. That was not for lack of trying; he simply died before he achieved acceptability. His brother Theo was an art dealer who supported Vincent until his premature death. Had both brothers lived, they would have successfully flogged Vincent’s paintings in the marketplace. That, however, was left to Theo’s widow.

Artist statements attempt to justify our work, as if the work itself wasn’t justification enough. Can’t we just say that we’re only in it for the money?

My 2024 workshops:

• Painting in Paradise: Rockport, ME, July 8-12, 2024.
• Sea & Sky at Schoodic, August 4-9, 2024.
• Find your authentic voice in plein air: Berkshires, August 12-16, 2024.
• Art and Adventure at Sea: Paint Aboard Schooner American Eagle, September 15-19, 2024.
• Immersive In-Person Workshop: Rockport, ME, October 7-11, 2024.