This post is causing quite a lot of interesting conversation at the moment. People are starting to think more and more about the “why”s and “how”s and “shoulds” of doing what we love to do for an income–whether it’s dancing, painting, singing, writing or whatever. Erica wrote me a long email exploring these ideas, and I asked her if I could post it here as a guest post. She agreed, so here it is.
Thoughts on the S.A. (Starving Artist) and What We Do For a Living 
Guest post by Kisaya Rayne
I’d been thinking a lot on this whole starving artist thing thanks to having read so much information on Van Gogh as of late. There’s some really interesting information out there about him, how he was a schizophrenic, and as is typical for people with that disorder, they have a hard time keeping a sense of normal in their lives. He was always having money troubles and quite often suffered problems with not having access to things he needed. He’s the perfect portrait of a starving artist. In his life he had a wealthy benefactor who apparently was also an artist of great fame in his day, but has long since forgotten. The lesson of Van Gogh teaches us that if we want to be remembered as artists, starving artist is the way to go.
Of course, no one stops to think that Van Gogh was, well, crazy. Schizophrenics will never lead a perfectly normal life. Most of them have problems with poverty and homelessness. Many of them also have problems getting access to the basic goods and services they need, like food and clothes. Often times their great visions aren’t understood by those around them, though in a few cases, years later someone who is less jaded by the person in life sees something that evokes emotion, and so the visionary lives on long after their death.
Many of the artists that are so well known today went through a good deal of suffering in their life time. Picasso had problems finding a sense of lasting love. Shakespeare was known to have trouble with the women in his life, trouble that was reflected in the role of women in his plays and sonnets. Poe has his own tragic story. If I remember correctly (which I may not) it was Henry David Thoreau that went off to live in solitude in the woods around Walden Pond in Concord, Mass. While most of the well known “starving artists” are male, it doesn’t hurt to recognize people like Luisa May Alcott who, according to historians, was a fairly bitter and lonely old maid at the time of her death.
These artists, however, all have something in common. Their media is enduring. They left us with physical, tangible products that can be bought and owned. Years after their death, centuries after their death, a piece of them still remains. They may have had lives that could be considered quite miserable, but their contribution lives on long after they’re gone.
Dance, as with many other forms of art, can only truly be experienced in the moment. You have to experience it in the moment. This form of art doesn’t have the same kind of enduring contribution. You can’t pay to see a performer once they’re no longer performing. They make contributions, sure, but it’s very different. My personal point of reference on this is the great Loie Fuller. I would love to see one of her performances in some other form than old time video. They say she did incredible things with light, music, and fabric to create the first sense of special effects in her dancing. Of course, the vintage footage we do have doesn’t capture much of that. We can see the movements, but can’t hear the sounds, see the colors, truly indulge ourselves in the experience. Yes, that’s largely changed today. Anyone with a video camera can put together a video of a performance and post it on YouTube. I’m sure many of those will endure as long as YouTube exists, or the videos are preserved. However, it’s very different than seeing the real thing, being there for the physical experience of the show, all the other sights, sounds, and smells.
Sure, there’s going to be artists that no one in our time seems to understand their unique vision, much like Van Gogh. Perhaps they will endure in the lives that they did touch, they will inspire others to continue on with their work. It’s not easy to be the vanguard. It’s not easy to pave the way for others to follow, but with much of the arts community, that isn’t the case.
Our society has built so much on the portraits of the “starving artists” who inspire us today, product based artists, that suffered for their work in our lifetime, but we often forget that not all art has to be that way. Dancers and musicians may have to struggle to get known, but their product is an experience, something in the moment. They aren’t trying to get people to read a book or poem, watch a play, or purchase a piece of art. All of those items are harder to sell because they speak to a very specific audience. Performance arts are different. Entertainment has a very different value than reading or an object for your wall ever could, especially live entertainment.
As for teaching, I’ve heard on more than one occasion that knowledge should be available to everyone for free. The biggest example of this is seen in the Pagan community, where people feel that teaching should not come at a fair exchange. You shouldn’t put a price on spirituality. However, what isn’t understood is you’re not putting a price on spirituality, you’re putting a price on the teacher’s time and energy spent on the lesson. After all, they could be spending time doing something else, perhaps even working for a fair wage doing something else. I’ve heard from way too many movies with corporate executives that “time is money.” Shouldn’t our teachers have the same value?
When you’re looking at teaching, you’re not paying the teacher for the skill you learn or the knowledge they impart. Whatever you get or don’t get out of the class is your responsiblity. That’s the same no matter what kind of class you’re taking, be it spirituality, dance, yoga, history, or physics. You’re paying your instructor for the time they take to help you learn the knowledge. Realistically, you can learn just about everything for free, if you really want to and have the dedication. I’ve known a lot of dancers who have learned from YouTube because they couldn’t afford formal training. However, it takes a critical eye and lots of research to develop things like good technique, proper posture, and other things that refine the art of dance. You’re not just paying the instructor for sharing that series of skills they know, but to speed up the process through advising on technique, form, and posture. This is valued much more in traditional education fields.
All of this is, of course, compounded by the reality that everyone wants something for nothing, if possible. Many people in this hard economy are looking for ways to cut their costs. They’ll go to a cheaper instructor if it means that their money stretches further (though those who are truly dedicated will follow the talent). This also means that people will try and negotiate and haggle for a better deal. This often means people will devalue your product in an attempt to get a rate they find more favorable. This is common practice in other cultures, particularly the Middle East. Our society is programmed with the knowledge that certain values are set and non-negotiable. You wouldn’t haggle with the cashier at the grocery store because you feel the produce isn’t up to par. You either buy it at the set price, or you don’t. I haven’t heard anyone calling up their college to argue the price of their elective because their electives have nothing to do with their degree program, and therefore should cost less. Set price tags are common in our society, unless there is some kind of exception.
What is the exception for dance? The dancer loves doing it, so they should do it out of the goodness of their heart. This is especially true when we’re talking about dance classes. This under-value of the instruction isn’t helped by free classes at the local gym (though they seem to forget that they have actually paid for the class with their gym membership). Our society has come to feel that “work” shouldn’t be something you love. Most people hate their jobs, yet they do what they have to in order to get by. They don’t get to do something they love as a job, so why should you get paid to do what you love? It’s a twisted way to look at it. It’s pretty sad that we can’t accept that everyone has a fair chance to do something they love. Having a career you love takes a lot of time, energy, and dedication. Those who live their lives by their art, whether it’s teaching or performing, have done just that, or are in the process of doing just that. If only everyone had that sense of dedication and that hard working ethic!
So, yeah, I guess this kind of got long winded, but it’s something I’ve been considering quite a bit myself with people I love complaining that they hate their work and they hate the things they have to do in order to get by. However, I do have one friend whose hard work has paid off big! He may not be a wealthy man, actually, he can barely afford to get by, but he’s doing a job he loves and is living by his art, painting cars. Of course, no one tells him he should work without pay!
Erica/Kisaya Rayne
Tribal Bellydancer
www.kisayarayne.com

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Van Gough in particular I think has totally messed up artists. He was the crazy, starving one, who painted stuff no-one wanted but kept painting any way even though he barely earnt enough to survive on. But what about the old masters, some of the most accomplished and famous painters in history? Michelangelo, Titian, Rubens, Raphael, Bernini, Massacchio, Durer, Van Eyck? They all got PAID and almost all the work they made was on commission, not just because they liked painting. They rarely gave things away, and the beautiful things they painted – Sistine Chapel, Venus of Urbino, Mona Lisa – were all commissions that they got paid for.
Titian even managed to get a patron who told him to paint what he liked, and the patron would still buy it.
So suck that Van Gogh.