Part II: My conversation with Maurice: marketing and audience

Continuing the conversation with Dr. Maurice Sevigny, from where I left off:

Marketing and art

Edgar: Okay, you touched on marketing, so let’s talk about that.

Maurice: Sure.

E: You said, that because you had supplemental income, you feel less constrained than somebody that feels strictly dependent on the market… [Dependence on the market] creates a conflict…

M: Sure.

E: … that I guess many of us are dealing with. Some of us are quite comfortable with the idea of making art which is strictly for the pleasure of some audience. So, there’s a question of the relationship between the artist and the audience.
Let me give you some background on myself: I have a [perspective] in that area. I started out in theatre, the performing arts, and there, the feedback from the audience is instantaneous, immediate. Recently, I submitted for a show for the Dinnerware, and I went to the opening and kind of went (frowning), “There’s no applause here!”

M: Yeah… (laughter)

E: So, I have a very different perspective on it than most visual artists would. But there is a relationship, intentional or not, between an artist and an audience. And I, personally, would dispute anyone who says, “I only make art for myself.” I think they’re just hiding something [from themselves].

M: Well, everybody’s got an ego. And you either stroke it yourself – and you know what that’s called (ahem)… “denying.”
…
Picasso is a good example of someone who continually reinvented him self. Because you can get stuck in a rut of fame or a market that’s accessible, and you can only go so far. And we all know artists like that.

E: Yeah.

M: But the luxury I have currently is that I can afford to make lots of mistakes, because time’s not money to me, so I don’t ever just think, “What’s going to sell?” And that’s good, especially the last six months– ‘cause nothing’s selling. (laughter) On the other hand, I think I am more aware of the commercial market as well, because of the rent on the studio. ‘Cause I was like, “Well, let’s at least break even. Instead of being an expensive hobby.” Especially with all the technology—which is expensive—... rent, and all your stuff. So, for a while I was saying, “Okay, everybody’s working big, and everybody’s working abstract for the most part. I’m going to work small and be affordable. And I’m going to work with techniques that allow me to work fast, and because I can be efficient, I don’t have to put two, three thousand dollars on each of my paintings to compensate for my time. So, finding a niche market is helpful but that’s not (unintelligible) ,’cause you know, sometimes I think about market forces, sometimes I don’t.

Artist and audience

You make images, and you get feedback from audiences, because we have open houses.

People come through and say, “Oh, what colors! You’re a colorist.”

“Yeah? What was your first clue?”

And what does that mean? [That] Most people are afraid of color, especially exaggerated color, because it’s one of the variables that starts to make things less recognizable to some people. So when you abstract, what you’re doing is taking shape or line or color or texture in a new way, sensing it in a new way.
...

I work with a couple things, one, I work with technology as underpainting and two I don’t limit myself to one medium. It always looks a bit different to the average person, but their attention to my work is sometimes captured a little longer than somebody else’s.

Some people come through your place pretty quick. Some want to look at each painting. And the way in which people go around, some are ‘flies’ and some are ‘ants’ and they march around in circles. Some people come up and look at something and study one thing and leave. So, it’s kind of fun to watch audience, and how they take in information.

And then their questions. (unintelligible) You’ve got wannabe artists, who wanna know how you do it. They want to come in and steal some secrets. You got people who collect—

E: …Maybe they want to come in and learn.

M: Maybe they do!

E: [I say,] In self-defense.

M: A lot of them do want to learn. And most of them want to get inspired, because you get a rush. You see something and think “I won’t buy that, but I think I could do something like that.” And run back to the studio and try it out. So, when you think [about] markets: When are you going to be an art teacher? When are you going to be an artist? When are you going to hold back information? When are you going to give away trade secrets?

The dialog that results from [the thought of] “audience” is very interesting, because it’s not one audience. There are as many different audiences as there are people. There are different degrees of sophistication. Your questions are different than the average beginner, looking for a couple of paintings for their lavender bedroom.

[Edgar's note: I'll be posting the final portion of our conversation, in which Dr. Sevigny discusses artistic integrity, in a few days.]

Finding words... a conversation with Maurice

Update: Part two of this conversation is now posted here.
Dr. Maurice Sevigny is both a local artist and the Dean of the College of Fine Arts at the University of Arizona... in other words, someone who has made a lifetime of the study of art theory, the practice of art—and the teaching of it. He has a studio in downtown Tucson, which I visited last year during an open studio tour. The studio is jam-packed with framed work and works in progress on easels and pinned to partitions, in a crowded circle around a countertop island from which he surveys his creations, plucking them from the wall to rework as the muse strikes him.

The work he's doing is (essentially) representational, but distinctive in its embrace of digital technology to provide underpainting and abstraction for his images, which he overpaints with mixed media.

I thought it was exceptionally nervy of me to ask him for an interview, out of the blue, but he is generous, and his answers are very stimulating. Well versed in the conversation of art, Dr. Sevigny is articulate, educated and experienced. Of him, I got to ask all my questions: the ones my art teachers forgot to talk about. With gratitude, here's one expert's point of view.

Why we do it

Edgar: Why do we do art?

Maurice: Why do we do art? ...We do art because we have to. It’s a form of communication for some people, a form of expression for others, it’s a form of catharsis, and therapy for some. There are as many reasons for doing art as there are people. For me it’s a balance, and I’m doing it as something of a therapy in my life. At the same time, I’ve always done it, and it’s a way of being, and art is a way of knowing. So, my work is representational to a degree but abstract because I take what I know and I invent in it something that didn’t exist before. So, to me, bringing something to fruition that was not in existence before is… a trip.

E: You said art is communication and expression. What would be the difference?

M: Well, when it’s communication, it’s the artist doing it, when it’s expression, it’s the reader [that’s looking at it] interpreting it. Often, those things don’t come together. What someone interprets is different from [what] somebody expressed or intended to express, but it doesn’t really matter, because art is a two way street.

A segue to audience

If you don’t have an audience, do you even have art? Maybe: Because, if you step away from the painting, suddenly you become the audience; the real fact is, that art is a dialog, a sense of communication, usually a dialog between the artist and the object, and the object gives permission to continue or stop. Or the object becomes, you know, the game. You’re looking upon it, and you may be comparing it to what’s real (or not real), and then you may be saying, “How can I change that?” or there may be parts that you want to change. So, there’s this little bit of creativity and creation involved in the art concept.

...

And I always find it amazing when people come to my studio and want to know how long it took for me to make a particular piece, because they are sizing up the price. They’re asking, “How long did this take you?” My answer is always, “Sixty-five years,” because I couldn’t have done it last year… it’s a process, and you are the sum of who you are, at that moment.

E: That’s an excellent answer. I like that. Now, we make art, I think in many cases, as an expression of our response to what is around us ...

M:… or inside us.

E: … or inside us, yeah. And I know that there are lots of art movements where people are trying to get to that very directly.

M: Trying to be spontaneous, trying to let things emerge… I’m not sure that’s possible.

E: I’m not sure it’s possible either, because we have a context, and we can’t avoid it.

M: Everything is contextual.

E: But art, I think, is seen by western culture as being “creativity,” and there’s this idea… some of the non-objective artists are trying to pull something from nothing – and [it’s a struggle to make that] work. But what you said a moment ago is, that art was a “way of knowing.” And I find, as many artists do, I find out about what I feel about what is going on “out there.” And there’s some sharing obviously, because we’re making marks, instead of keeping it up here, inside our skulls. It’s a complex process, not simply one thing or the other, and it’s not strictly creativity. Much of it is reproduction, much of it is reaction.

M: Well you’re talking about art as function. When the function changes… if the function is religious, it brings back images of spirituality.

E: Right.

M: If your work is commercial, your job is to sell something or create some kind of metaphor for something else. If it’s illustrative, you’re trying to tell a story, that may be more communication. If it’s for its own sake, then it may be abstract, or it may be much more about the surface qualities and less about the emotional qualities or psychological impact. So, you’ve got intention, and you’ve got function, and you’ve got materials and you’ve got different subjects. If you’re going to be a naturalist, then you’re going to render something, if you want to be an artist, then you want to render it in a way that no one else is rendering it, because that makes it to be a signature or a brand. It’s important because, as in business, if yours looks like everybody else’s, then it has less value if you’re going to the market.

On function

E: What is it to you? What is the function of art for you?

M: You know, it changes. Right now… I think in some sense, the way in which I get back to art --because I haven’t made art for 25 years-- was in preparation for embracing a new self, because I may be retiring in the near future. So, before one can retire, when their identity has been all wrapped up in some kind of work or job, you need to have a new identity to embrace, to say goodbye to that [old] identity. But for me, it’s a kind of catharsis or evolution into something that I’ve postponed being for a long time, in order to make a living. Now, it’s going to be a way to supplement a living, so in some sense, somewhere between a commercial world and free expression.

Essentially, for me, because I have another income, I’m not constrained to commercial art. I can keep experimenting and developing new things. And the art I’m working on currently is kind of taking advantage of new tools that are electronic and digital to design and experiment and be more efficient. So I’ve got that luxury of time to play with technology and traditional media combined in ways that other people weren’t doing before.

So, to me it’s still invention. And also a chance to embrace the introvert side of me… getting away from my public life. Going into the studio, having alone time. Telling something it’s going to be ‘red’. And it becomes red without arguing why it has to be red. So, it’s an opportunity for pleasure, opportunity for stress reduction, opportunity for a lot of those things. And opportunity to get to know this other side, [that I’ve put aside] for twenty-five years.

[Edgar's note: I'll have more from this conversation posted soon. Dr. Sevigny's image, from his website, is used with his permission.]

Whatcha reading?

Melinda accuses me of reading over her shoulder all the time. I say, I'm just easily distracted. Have you read anything lately that gets you so excited, you want to discuss it with anyone that sits by you for more than 30 seconds?

I've had a bunch of books recommended to me by the (extremely well-read) visitors to the Fice and other friends, and so I've been able to single-handedly keep UPS in business, while limiting the recent layoffs at ebay to the mere ten thousand that they felt impelled to do, to impress the stock analysts.

Currently on the nightstand:

Has Modernism Failed? by Suzi Gablik
Silvina gets the credit for recommending this one... it is dense, but intense! Check out this hammer blow on the contradictions of marketing art for a social good:

...since the individual who has a career in mind will obviously be eager to promote his or her own cause, ideals must be bent to suit the demands of our times. "As artists we have sold off inspiration to buy influence," the Minimalist sculptor Carl Andre has said. "We have always had the historical choice of either lying through or living through our contradictions. Now through the genius of the bourgeoisie we have the chance to market them."

Gablik's book is a series of essays on the role of art -- in essence, the conflict between art as individual expression or as a social force -- and whether or not modernism succeeded in moving art forward, or getting it lost. Along the way, she demolishes Clement Greenberg's art for art's sake, the Art Industry, and 'anxious objects.' I'm still devouring this book, sometimes cheering for Gablik, sometimes rolling my eyes -- but there's no question that every page challenges me to reevaluate what I think art is about.

The Vein of Gold by Julie Cameron
A gift from a fellow Creative, this is a companion (or maybe sequel) to Cameron's essential work in unblocking creativity, The Artist's Way. Where Way was about breaking through blocks, excuses and self-criticism to become creative, Vein provides a series of approaches (and those inevitable exercises) to finding one's way to an internal landscape of experience and feeling, suitable fodder for art expression. For the activist artist, Cameron's approach may seem too individual-expressionistic, but her touch is light and she has no agenda on your art, and simply provides methods of tapping into the currents that drive us.

The Artist's Mentor ed. Ian Jackman
Misleadingly subtitled "Inspiration from the World's Most Creative Minds" the Artist's Mentor is a fairly obvious attempt to trade on the success of Jackman's previous title, The Writer's Mentor.
Unfortunately, it isn't inspirational to read quotes about the transformation of the artworld in the 80's into a grinding industry of rock-star poseurs and flashes in the pan — or any other chapters. Jackman takes an even-handed approach to diminishing every worthy preconception you harbor about art and working in art: that your work matters, that art is a landscape of progression, that plein air painting adds something (or that it doesn't).
A patchwork of contradictory quotations from artists and critics, you can find a quote to support anything you like, here. And one to support the opposite, too. Snarkiness and pessimism abound. Inspiration? I don't think so. Avoid this one, if you still harbor a love of fairy tales. But you can find some occasionally self-deprecating humor, if you like to include quotes in your blog:

"Have you ever met an artist that didn't want to be famous? Artists are the greatest delayed-gratification people in the world." — Mary Beth Edelson

Creative Authenticity by Ian Roberts
Still in the beginning stages of reading this one, which I grabbed on impulse from the shelves at Borders.
Subtitled "Sixteen Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision," Roberts makes an initial case for Beauty, and as I'm a stickler for words, I have the sense that he's mis-applying "beauty" in his argument. I think if he and I could agree on the proper term, we'd probably not be far apart in viewpoint. His writing is accessible and his anecdotes are interesting. Semantics aside, the book is motivating — and inspirational — for artists that are seeking to fan the flame of their artistic calling: like Julie Cameron's lectures, but without the exercises.

So ... what's on your holiday reading list?