After we create a piece of artwork, we release it into the world and don't really give it any more thought than: How can we do it better next time? Does it stack up well within the industry standard? Does it fulfill the client's needs? etc. Unless we are hiding our work in a broom closet, any creative endeavor that sees publication acquires a life of its own. Not only does it take on meaning dependent upon the interpretation of any specific audience, but the work itself, whether intended or not, takes on a role in shaping culture.
Have you thought much about how the work that you do affects other people's perceptions and values?
The recent violent events in Connecticut prompted many to pontificate on the tragedy and their solutions for it. Much of the conversation revolves around the obvious-- America's access to certain kinds of weapons-- but other nuanced conversations suggest that we must begin to address the deeper issues of mental health and a preoccupation with violence. Some, like Jackson Katz, suggest that our cultural construction of masculinity is badly skewed and needs to be addressed. Others suggest that these problems come from a "morally lax" society, ie. suggesting that parents (read: women) are neglecting their kids when they place them in daycare centers (instead of being stay-at-home caretakers). Others still, have suggested that violent TV programs, movies, video games, music, etc. are all to blame, and the creators of such (read: artists, writers) blamed for glamorizing violence and death.
Really? Can we suggest that art and visual media could possibly cultivate violence and sustain a person's destructive attitudes about themselves and others? Can art and media create a ridiculous sense of masculinity or femininity? Can you say fashion magazines? You still don't believe me, do you?
And this: DC Comics' recent decision to hire openly anti-gay Orson Scott Card to write the next issues of Superman has prompted many writers and artists to take to the blogosphere in protest and avowed boycott. Some will suggest that just because the man has certain personal beliefs doesn't necessarily mean that those beliefs will translate into his work. However, others have cited that his ideology definitely bleeds into his writing elsewhere, so why wouldn't he use it as a personal platform to bash gays? So, if you were a comic book artist would you take this job if it meant depicting Superman acting as a bigoted jerk? Would you take a job that went against your own personal values because of the cash it put into your pocket?
How aware are we as artists of the effect of our work on culture/ society? Are we creating imagery that is physically violent, or sexist? And do we care about its effects? Are we perpetuating old stereotypes? Are we using our unique gift to incite hatred and divisiveness? Some will argue that it's all about a paycheck; nobody really cares; it'll all blow over; violence in a game/ TV/ book doesn't necessarily perpetuate violence in the user. Are you sure?
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
What You Don't Want To Do
As an illustration teacher, I have the opportunity to ask students what kinds of things they're interested in. The answers are usually about music, gaming, skateboarding, fashion, etc. Occasionally I get an answer like cyborgs or space travel, but that's rare. Most of them really have no idea who they are or what they want to do as artists when they first walk in my door. I mean, really; these students are only in their late teens, early 20s, and so their experience is understandably limited. So, I craft the class projects so that they get a feel for the obvious genres and markets out there. As they begin to gravitate towards that which they feel themselves most aligned, I drop more pertinent things (specific artists, movements, styles, content) into their individual laps. Each begins a gradual process of self-awareness and eventually discovers his or her most personal line of inquiry.
My own journey to discovering my interests within the F+SF genre began while attending and exhibiting conferences. The first one I'd walked into stunned me. I looked around at the work of the big name fantasy and SF genre illustration professionals and thought: "Holy crap, I don't like anything here. I don't want to make work that looks anything like what I'm seeing here." Of course, that was my initial visual scan; I eventually did find a few artists whose works that I liked, but they were few and far between.
That first exposure really shook me. I thought: well,... maybe I don't really want to be working in this particular genre after all if I'm not so keen on most of it.
Later that evening, at the up-and-comers show for the newbies, I was asked by an art director --So, what do you want to do? I unthinkingly blurted -- "Well, I know what I *don't* want to do!" And then I proceeded to give him my opinion on what I observed was so overdone in the industry and stuff that bugged me: disproportionately large swords in the hands of figures who didn't look physically capable of wielding them; pointless armor on nearly-naked women (or just gratuitously nude women in general); emphasis ad nauseam on the obvious big battle scene, etc. There seemed to be a lot less innovation and a lot of incestuous borrowing (stealing?) going on between the big industry artists in terms of both style and content. I stated that I thought that there was much oddly missing from these worlds. I asked the AD if he was tired and bored of seeing a seemingly unchanging parade of images after 20 years. He quietly admitted that he was.
(I later learned that his initial question -- what do you want to do?-- meant that my portfolio didn't seem to be fully cohesive, so... portfolio fail.)
Of course, giving my 1-minute elevator shpiel in the negative probably wasn't the greatest thing to do in front of the art director. That I had to answer the question in the negative because I didn't know how to answer it in the positive gave me much to mull about later: why was I rejecting so much of the images that I'd seen earlier in the day? What was I rejecting? Was it something in particular?
As I began to gradually zero in on what I did want to do, the stuff I knew I didn't want to do kept me on track. I began to figure out how to translate my values into the images I wanted to show and how I wanted to execute them. That "marriage" of ethics with aesthetics is the holy grail for artists and is probably the most elusive thing in our practice as artists and illustrators. The closer we can get to where these two -- ethics and aesthetics-- align, is when we begin to make the art that matters. Ask yourself not only what you do want to do, but also-- what don't you want to do? The answer may surprise you.
My own journey to discovering my interests within the F+SF genre began while attending and exhibiting conferences. The first one I'd walked into stunned me. I looked around at the work of the big name fantasy and SF genre illustration professionals and thought: "Holy crap, I don't like anything here. I don't want to make work that looks anything like what I'm seeing here." Of course, that was my initial visual scan; I eventually did find a few artists whose works that I liked, but they were few and far between.
That first exposure really shook me. I thought: well,... maybe I don't really want to be working in this particular genre after all if I'm not so keen on most of it.
Later that evening, at the up-and-comers show for the newbies, I was asked by an art director --So, what do you want to do? I unthinkingly blurted -- "Well, I know what I *don't* want to do!" And then I proceeded to give him my opinion on what I observed was so overdone in the industry and stuff that bugged me: disproportionately large swords in the hands of figures who didn't look physically capable of wielding them; pointless armor on nearly-naked women (or just gratuitously nude women in general); emphasis ad nauseam on the obvious big battle scene, etc. There seemed to be a lot less innovation and a lot of incestuous borrowing (stealing?) going on between the big industry artists in terms of both style and content. I stated that I thought that there was much oddly missing from these worlds. I asked the AD if he was tired and bored of seeing a seemingly unchanging parade of images after 20 years. He quietly admitted that he was.
(I later learned that his initial question -- what do you want to do?-- meant that my portfolio didn't seem to be fully cohesive, so... portfolio fail.)
Of course, giving my 1-minute elevator shpiel in the negative probably wasn't the greatest thing to do in front of the art director. That I had to answer the question in the negative because I didn't know how to answer it in the positive gave me much to mull about later: why was I rejecting so much of the images that I'd seen earlier in the day? What was I rejecting? Was it something in particular?
As I began to gradually zero in on what I did want to do, the stuff I knew I didn't want to do kept me on track. I began to figure out how to translate my values into the images I wanted to show and how I wanted to execute them. That "marriage" of ethics with aesthetics is the holy grail for artists and is probably the most elusive thing in our practice as artists and illustrators. The closer we can get to where these two -- ethics and aesthetics-- align, is when we begin to make the art that matters. Ask yourself not only what you do want to do, but also-- what don't you want to do? The answer may surprise you.
So You Want to Be an Artist, eh?
I'm often asked to look at the work of a high school student and to assess whether they have "the stuff" to make a go of it in the art world. I figure that if s/he has asked, then s/he really wants to know the truth, but most don't really like hearing it. I try to keep the news as positive as I can, weighing both pros and cons, but it isn't all pretty.
The "Bad" News
Degrees in Visual and performing Arts comprise 6 percent of students in any college's graduating class, but only two percent of that number actually *do* art after college. And most artists who begin as artists don't persist as artists. They give up after about 3 years... or do it only sporadically.
Many, if not most, artists who are "professional" artists have day jobs-- teaching, working in print shops, working as a layout designer, etc.-- that bring home the bacon, but don't always offer an artist the time to make their own work. (Women artists are most often "ghettoized" in the children's illustration market, which is regrettably low-paying and requires fast turn-around for completions. That said, if you can break into a more competitive genre-- editorial, or F+SF, gaming or film animation -- you have a better chance of making more money. That is, if you don't have children --or if you do, you need an awesome spouse, a nanny, a maid, and a cook.)
So, art is like a calling to the monastery: don't do it unless there's nothing else that will *quite do*, because the obstacles are Sisyphean. Your own self-doubt will provide to be one the biggest boulders to roll uphill. Count on it taking about 5 years after college/ school to break into a very competitive industry and to begin to gain some sort of industry recognition.
So do you have the "stuff" to make it? Here are some Illustration specifics that one has to be able to handle pretty well: being self-employed means meeting deadlines on time, working alone, keeping distractions and interruptions at bay, being diligent with your work hours, keeping receipts for taxes, paying for advertising and self-promotion, paying for one's health insurance and planning for "retirement" (whatever that means), budgeting for lean times, paying quarterly self-employed taxes, being able to communicate well and deal amicably with art direction (even when it occasionally goes against your aesthetics or sensibilities). The uber-social person may find it to be lonely; the uber-anti-social person with few people skills may find him/herself at a disadvantage.
The industry has withstood big changes in the last 20+ years, most of which can be seen in the current digital age of e-Books and self-publishing. Companies have severely limited the scope and hire of artists for their publications. It means that those book covers you have had your eye on doing, twenty years ago used to pay an artist $2000; they now pay $750 -- or in the case of romance novels, $75. Illustration fees have not only remained the same in a generation, they've actually decreased. Digital media has had much impact on the art in the industry.
So why the heck would anyone want to be an artist anyway? Oh, I know: to express yourself, right? Let's be serious; you can do that with a video-camera, or a blog, or a FB page. Being an artist as a profession or occupation requires a dedication that goes beyond merely expressing oneself. It's a mission that goes deeper that just having an interchangeable day-job that you can shrug off; it requires years of practice to build the necessary skills, and demands constant vigilance and navigation.
Don't pay any attention to the occasional story of the rock-star, overnight-success artist. This kind of rare story only fuels the Myth of the Artist and creates unrealistic expectations for would-be creatives. It creates a false expectation of freedom, glamour, fame, and fortune that is just nowhere near the reality for the day-to day artist which is just a lot of work. Sometimes more work than is fair and less pay than is fair, but that's the way it is. Most artists, even if they are self-employed full-time, live quiet and unassuming lives as conscientious workhorses. The odds of being made The Big Shit are pretty low.
Hey you... Are you still here, muttering foul curses at me under your breath and vowing to achieve your dream despite my splash of ice water? Well then, you are either a glutton for punishment or a damn fool. Welcome to the club.
Some "Good" News
As an artist, you are the creator, the generator of new ideas. Whether you're in the publishing industry as an illustrator or as a writer, or working as a fine artist to sell work directly to clients, or whether you're a basket maker or potter, or sculptor, YOU are the one generating new content-- you have a voice in shaping your culture. Therefore, it is *possible* to have complete creative control over what you make if its content/ story is yours. (this is harder in the illustration industry where it's often someone else's story /content). See Tony DiTerlizzi's Spiderwick Chronicles for a fine example of an artist writing and illustrating his/ her own story.
What this also means is that you have the ability to create your own income with original work and content you generate. It means that it's also possible to set your own hours and schedule as well. This self-directed-ness is a really nice feature of being self-employed.
What about the fine art industry? While there has been a sideline business in the illustration convention industry to entice fine art buyers and dealers to purchase original finely-crafted works, many artists who have an illustrative style, have sought to sell their work within fine art venues only. (However, when repped by a gallery, complete artistic control over one's work isn't always possible if the gallery owner has contractual say about the content and style that the artist is producing. They can and will often dictate that you continue to produce the kind of work that sold well in the past. They have specific clients looking to buy art with that particular "look" so experimenting with changing your style or content to keep your practice sustainable and happy for you can be a bad thing for them. This goes double for the illustration industry, and or agents who might represent an artist to their clients. if you suddenly change your style or content, you will shift your market and lose your client base. Okay, so that was more bad news.) The good news is that even if you lose some clients by changing or updating your style/ content, you can gain clients elsewhere. That's the nature of freelancing: you can work for whomever you want.
Additionally, most importantly-- you get to be a lifelong student of the world. All of your interests can be dovetailed into your art and can help generate relevant work. This is what it means to find your "voice". I would recommend that if you are still unshaken in your desire to be an artist, then get exposed to as many subjects as you can-- history, philosophy, feminist studies, biology-- and be able to see what all of the world offers and that ideas and art are interconnected. One cannot make art in a cultural vacuum. So much to consider, right?
Friday, February 1, 2013
No!Spec
The joke in the illustration industry is that there are so many desperate young artists and so much competition and hustling that pretty soon artists will be paying publishers to publish their work.
Uh... yeah, well... they're already doing it.
Suppose you're a graphic design/ illustration student right out of college and you're super stoked about getting into the industry right away. You see a job posted by a well-known publisher for an Art Contest for one of their products, and you think, "Heck, I could win that, and it will give me the break I need to get into the industry. Besides, it's only $25 to enter." You vaguely remember your folks spouting some old chestnut like "It takes money to make money." In the distance you see stars-- the promised land of plenty, fame, and glory-- and you go for it.
For hours you slave away on thumbnails, thinking hard about the client's project specifications and possible meanings, researching the company's products, etc; hammering out your design and compositions and then you spend an entire day making careful color studies, confident that the color compositions work clearly with the design and idea. Then you spend a few days working on the clean execution of the final product. You submit your work by the given deadline and patiently await the results.
The jury selects another person's artwork.
What do you have? Well, an optimistic person will chalk it up to lack of experience; they will say that they have another great piece in their portfolio; they will say that perhaps they selected the wrong company and that they will do better next time. All of these may be true, but the bald reality of it all is, you're crushed because not only have you not been noticed by "the industry," but the company has YOUR design.
That's right. You gave away your design. For FREE.
Now, this isn't really about a faceless corporation using your design without your consent, because no reputable company would ruin its good name doing something so low as outright stealing. No, it's about the fact that you have just driven the market prices for artwork lower for everybody. And why wouldn't the publishing companies be okay with that? It's the most ideal situation in which they could find themselves. They simply put out a call for entries for a contest-- spending none of their own money in the process-- and get hundreds of design ideas for which they have the pleasure to sort through, choosing the one(s) closest to their idea. The one happy winner who gets paid for their selected design, may see an advancement to their career, but often one design does not a unified and complete portfolio make. What is also likely is that none of the designs submitted really work at all, so the company still has to put a seasoned designer on the project to cobble together two or three of the best designs; by putting their own "stamp" on it, it wouldn't be stealing at all. Similarly, in the illustration industry there are contests galore-- this is seen this more often with a gaming company putting up a kickstarter -- where the winner gets paid a paltry $50, but the illustration ideas that are submitted get wedded to the brand and are passed around for "inspiration."
And you've paid for it.
Every time a new artist on the scene who wants to price compete with peers declares to a client that s/he "can do the job for a lot less," all artists across the land see the value of their livelihood decreasing. It is no secret that the fees for illustrations have remained nearly the same in 40 years-- and in some genres has seen a sharp decrease. (A colleague of mine who worked in the pulp-romance paperback genre said that when she started a decade ago she was making $250 per cover, but that has dropped now to $75-50 with the proliferation of facile photo-montage cut-and-pasters.)
If you are interested and want to be more informed on this subject, you can learn more at this site; No!Spec. It has a ton of facts concerning spec work and why you should avoid it, and if you're a publisher, why it hurts your business.
Uh... yeah, well... they're already doing it.
Suppose you're a graphic design/ illustration student right out of college and you're super stoked about getting into the industry right away. You see a job posted by a well-known publisher for an Art Contest for one of their products, and you think, "Heck, I could win that, and it will give me the break I need to get into the industry. Besides, it's only $25 to enter." You vaguely remember your folks spouting some old chestnut like "It takes money to make money." In the distance you see stars-- the promised land of plenty, fame, and glory-- and you go for it.
For hours you slave away on thumbnails, thinking hard about the client's project specifications and possible meanings, researching the company's products, etc; hammering out your design and compositions and then you spend an entire day making careful color studies, confident that the color compositions work clearly with the design and idea. Then you spend a few days working on the clean execution of the final product. You submit your work by the given deadline and patiently await the results.
The jury selects another person's artwork.
What do you have? Well, an optimistic person will chalk it up to lack of experience; they will say that they have another great piece in their portfolio; they will say that perhaps they selected the wrong company and that they will do better next time. All of these may be true, but the bald reality of it all is, you're crushed because not only have you not been noticed by "the industry," but the company has YOUR design.
That's right. You gave away your design. For FREE.
Now, this isn't really about a faceless corporation using your design without your consent, because no reputable company would ruin its good name doing something so low as outright stealing. No, it's about the fact that you have just driven the market prices for artwork lower for everybody. And why wouldn't the publishing companies be okay with that? It's the most ideal situation in which they could find themselves. They simply put out a call for entries for a contest-- spending none of their own money in the process-- and get hundreds of design ideas for which they have the pleasure to sort through, choosing the one(s) closest to their idea. The one happy winner who gets paid for their selected design, may see an advancement to their career, but often one design does not a unified and complete portfolio make. What is also likely is that none of the designs submitted really work at all, so the company still has to put a seasoned designer on the project to cobble together two or three of the best designs; by putting their own "stamp" on it, it wouldn't be stealing at all. Similarly, in the illustration industry there are contests galore-- this is seen this more often with a gaming company putting up a kickstarter -- where the winner gets paid a paltry $50, but the illustration ideas that are submitted get wedded to the brand and are passed around for "inspiration."
And you've paid for it.
Every time a new artist on the scene who wants to price compete with peers declares to a client that s/he "can do the job for a lot less," all artists across the land see the value of their livelihood decreasing. It is no secret that the fees for illustrations have remained nearly the same in 40 years-- and in some genres has seen a sharp decrease. (A colleague of mine who worked in the pulp-romance paperback genre said that when she started a decade ago she was making $250 per cover, but that has dropped now to $75-50 with the proliferation of facile photo-montage cut-and-pasters.)
If you are interested and want to be more informed on this subject, you can learn more at this site; No!Spec. It has a ton of facts concerning spec work and why you should avoid it, and if you're a publisher, why it hurts your business.
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