Tuesday, February 8, 2011

"Notes from the Submerged" Essay Series - #2, Coco Papy

I started this essay series out of frustration with only being exposed to the outliers or artists, who were traditionally successful in school. The reality for the majority of us is that it isn't easy making work, trying to pay the bills, and finding an audience. Bill Guy wrote the first essay in the series and now Counter-Rejection Artist, Coco Papy, writes about her experiences.

As I sit here, forming the very beginnings of this essay, I’m thinking about what I could say that would be the most effective, the most honest, and the ever dreaded “ what will make me sound like I know what I’m talking about “. And while pondering about how I can articulate all the things that I think are important on working, living and being an artist, all I really want to do is cruise the internet for funny cat videos, semi-deadening myself to the fact that I just worked a fifty hour work week in a city, that like a spouse, I love, yet drives me insane sometimes. This is not a complaint, more a fact. As artists, the holy grail that validates us is the idea that we will strive and struggle and then one day, like magic, we will be able to give up our day jobs and make art in our studios, be rewarded with successful gallery shows and live in a loft in SOHO, just like all the“ real “ artists. While this seems to have set the precedent for the past few decades, I happily accept that there is a reality beyond this ideal.

As artist, we have a lot on our plates. We worry if we will ever “make it“. I have personally not decided what this means to me, but I am excited that it does not always involve what has been typically presented. The basic foundation of our ideas on what it means to be successful, I find that you spend years unlearning. Sure there are truths in there – it would be glib to try and convince you or myself that I do not want some semblance of a traditional, successful artist career. But I do think that we have to start looking at the way things have been presented to us with a more disconcerting eye and realize that maybe not all the things we have had drilled into our psyches are right, wrong or even matter. And while I explain some of the things that day by day, I try and integrate into my life and my practice, they are in no way guarantees of success. All I can guarantee is that they may help you and serve you for building up strength that is needed for mapping out the long haul that is making art.

* Try not to resent your job or the fact that you have one. This I think is the most complicated one. Having a day job seems to correlate with somehow not being successful or serious as an artist, which to be very frank is absolute horsecrap. Having a day job, like death and taxes, is going to be a very normal part of an artist’s life. And this can be hard because you do have diminished time in your actual studio or maybe you are not making the money you would like and can’t buy supplies or perhaps there are aspects to your job that make you feel like you are dying on the inside. Your role as an artist is to try as hard as possible to find something that works well for you and bring yourself to a positive headspace. I say this with interpretation, as we are in one of the worst economic times and we can’t always be picky. Bad jobs, annoying coworkers and mundane details will happen. But while these things will change for either the better or the worst, you will always be in the equation. Changing your own perception about having a day job will help immensely. Try and find something you like doing and realizing the potential at your job. Day jobs are not a sign of failure, no matter what Holland Cotter or your professors have said.

* Work your ass off. Get in your studio now. Send out applications now. Put your work out there. I do not care if you’re tired. I am tired too. We are all tired. But you cannot move from where you are now unless you put one foot in front of the other.

* Relax. Funny to get to this point from that point. I recently had a bout of what I call T.A.E.S (total artist exhaustion syndrome). I didn’t want to make art, work on the business end of it, write about it- nothing. I think there is a certain amount of guilt we ascribe to not working all the time, but it is incredibly important to realize that we need to recharge our batteries, to break out of our artist mindsets and know that there is life beyond the importance of what we are doing in our studios. I see no way to continue to think abstractly and critically- to passionately work the second job that is being an artist without giving yourself a break and realizing that you are human. You will do everything you can and that is good.

* Reach out to the artistic community. Being an artist can be incredibly isolating. We stay in our studios, we work, and we are often an asocial bunch. But being in a vacuum isn’t going to ever really help you out. Reach out to artists, whether it is the ones you are in a show with or someone you just really admire. They might respond, they might not, but the idea is to realize there are other people out there with a similar struggle and love. This is how we learn and how we eventually, if we are lucky enough, form incredible relationships with people who understand where we are coming from and why we keep going. It also gives you all the gossip on who isn’t doing right to artists.

* Rejection will happen. It’s okay to grieve, but then pick up and keep going. Often its not about your work, it's a culmination of many random things. This was never clear to me until I experienced what goes in on picking people’s art. When I worked at a gallery, we only picked artist that the artist we were showing knew. When I have had the chance to help curate shows, it became not about whether the artist’s work was “ good or not “, but “ will this fit into the narrow scope of interest we are trying to represent “. In talking with artist peers who are often ten to twelve years my senior, you hear about how long they had to work before they even were noticed to prove that art is what they were dedicated to and that they had built up enough experience in making and showing work. When you are exposed to things like this, you realize there is so much more going on behind the scenes. Try to never take it personal, but as I type this, it’s like asking every artist to give birth to a baby, nurture it and then ride it to the bank only to be told no thanks. Of course we will take it personally, our work is an extension of ourselves. But as hard as it is sometimes, especially when the entire world just seems to be saying no, do not stop. Being an artist is being comfortable with the word no.

* Don't worry about the hype. Be aware of it, it helps, but just do your own thing.

* Be business savvy. Seriously, take a class on taxes for artists, get a website, learn how to put together a real artist packet, learn to negotiate. You are your business. I know this takes a lot of the great stuff about being an artist away, but it’s also a very realistic view of what an artist is going to be doing the majority of their time. Especially as emerging artist, as we are set free from the forgiving and nurturing environment that is art school and let loose on the beast that is reality. Sometimes, we have such an insatiable hunger for success, we don't realize the things that can hurt us as artist.

* You do not have to live in New York. New York is an amazing place that I love living and working in. But it is not the end all, be all apex of the art world. Sure there are many things that it offers, but it also has its drawbacks. It’s expensive as all hell, the art scene is difficult to penetrate, space is lacking and everyone and their mom wants the same success as you. Use the tools and the community that you have to grow and decide what type of career you want. If you want to move to New York, come on down. If you want to stay in Chicago, Atlanta, Berlin – etc. then do. Be where you are and make what you love making- then utilize every resource available to you. Often, I am more attracted to artist from outside New York because the work isn’t similar to the work that's being made here. Being able to bring different perceptions to the conversation is a huge strength.

I realize that life is much more complicated and nuanced than just following this advice and it becoming better. We all have been sort of dropped down in a forest with no map and expected to come out on the other side. Figuring out how to map a career that has no real rules, much less map out our day-to-day existence, our finances and our other relationships can seem overwhelming. And if you are curious, I struggle with the very same things listed not even two paragraphs above. There are days where the very nature of what I am creating, the career I am hoping to carve out and my own self , are so bogged down with doubt and fear that it seems so much easier to give up making art and quietly settle into something that can give me stability and retirement money.

But I know its not so black and white and as time goes on, the shades of grey get larger and larger, and the idea of a “ career “ and a “life “ and what really being an artist is, become intertwined with all the other things that we will be dealing with. Fear does subside and it will rear its ugly head again and again. There will be times that being an artist seems like the worst possible choice you have ever made. Money will be tight and then it might flow, you might be the next Dana Schutz and then maybe not. It’s unpredictable and all you can do is prepare yourself for what might come by being well adjusted and hard working. Well adjusted means being okay with going to that day job week after week, or being broke or being told no. These aren’t things we should glamorize, just know that they are going to happen – play the hand your dealt.

I have a quote on my desk at work from a commencement speech by one of my favorite writers David Foster Wallace, who I wish had half the writing chops of. It deals with perception and how we often forget about what we have as opposed to what we don’t. It goes “ These two young fish are swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water? "

Take a deep breath and keep making your work.

Coco's blog and website

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