I was volunteering to hang a show at a watercolor society
the other day, and I was making small talk with another volunteer whom I had
just met. We were discussing paper sizes and formats, and I when I said that I
like to use blocks she replied that they are much too expensive, and then she
asked me how much they cost. I replied that I honestly have no idea how much
they cost. She looked at me quizzically, and I quickly explained that I don’t
buy anything because all my art supplies are given to me.
“Well! La ti DA!” she replied “Aren’t you SPEEE-cial! So,
you have SPONSORS?!”
I was so surprised, I could barely utter an embarrassed
sounding “um, yeah.”
“Hrumph!” she snorted, and she raised her eyebrows, pursed
her lips, and tucked in her chin as she asked “What makes YOU so special?!”
I just shrugged my shoulders at that. I was not in the mood
to defend myself and prove my worthiness to this other artist, so I just walked
away. And I kept on walking. I said my goodbyes to the other volunteers, and I
left.
Similar thing happened just a few weeks ago. It all started
innocently enough. I was at a small, emerging gallery dropping off some of my
plein air paintings for a group show. As often happens when artists gather in
close proximity, the conversation turned to techniques, which led to art
supplies, and so on. The usual chit chat among artists. Being a teacher, I tend
to explain my processes pretty in depth, and I launched into detail about how I
mix colors from a limited palette of primaries.
I then pointed out the differences that resulted from using different
primaries in some paintings, and I mentioned also that I used different brands
of paint for some of them. When someone asked why I chose to use those
particular colors and brands, I explained that I test and review art supplies
for several companies and I usually don’t get to pick out the colors that I
work with – I use what the companies give me. I’m also given a lot of art
supplies by companies who are grateful for my endorsements of their products as a brand ambassador.
The next question is the one that hurts. Artists always ask
incredulously, “How did you get
that?”
Despite all my decades of hard work and successes, this happens to me
rather routinely. More often than you would think. It happens almost every time
I get around other artists. The words shocked me, despite the fact that I hear
it all the time, and it made me question my abilities as an artist. It made me
feel like a fraud, like I wasn’t good enough to be an artist, like I wasn’t
really an artist. I felt like I was one inch tall.
I get the same question when I tell other artists that I
teach art classes online. And when I mention that I travel around the world to
teach workshops. And when I tell other artists that I judge/jury shows. And
every time I mention that I’m an official artist for the Coast Guard. And when
I mention to artists that I write articles for art magazines. The list goes on
and on. It’s why I’m so loathe to speak about my successes in public. It’s why
I don’t brag about all the paintings I sell, or the shows that I’m juried into,
or the awards that I win, or all the Signature Memberships that I’ve earned, or
the museums that collect my work, or the publications that feature my work, or
the number of workshops I teach, etc. Because despite all of my extensive
experience and exhaustive list of credentials, I still suffer from “imposter
syndrome” when other artists try to put me down.
I totally understand envy. I’m always envious of more
successful artists – we all want success and it's natural. But I also know that artists who are
successful have worked hard at it, and have earned it. I would never raise my
eyebrows and question another artist that way, in a manner that indicated that
I assumed another artist had some kind of trick to gain fame and fortune. Or In
a manner that indicated that I thought that they didn’t deserve their
accolades.
What’s more, I’ve noticed my male colleagues aren’t subject
to this scrutiny. When I hear male artists talk about their latest achievements,
I hear other artists congratulate them. They are not grilled about the steps
they took to achieve their successes, nor asked to provide names and contact
information of their clients and sponsors so that other artists can get in on a
piece of their deal.
Most importantly, they are not put upon to defend their
credentials. Why is that?
In both of these recent instances, I did not brag about my
own accolades or credentials during the conversations – I never mentioned them
at all. When I’m around other artists, I politely listen as they brag about
their own recent exhibits or awards and I congratulate them with sincerity. As much
as I would like to retort with some sort of snappy comeback when someone says something mean to me, I just can’t bring
myself to do it. I just can’t bring myself to be rude to anyone, much less insult
someone. What’s more, I can’t imagine being anything but happy for successes of
other artists.
If anything, I do just the opposite. I lavish praise on other artists generously, and at every opportunity. I share information about shows and competitions so that other artists can take part in the events. I share lessons and workshops so that other artists can have the opportunities to learn.
If someone is jealous of that, then they are the ones that should feel shame -- not me.
Yes, I am a successful artist, and I also want other artists to be as successful as me. I've spent over 40 years perfecting my skills and working hard to build my career. There is no secret word or magic pill that I can give to other artists that will bestow instant fame and fortune onto them, but I try my best to mentor and guide others to help them along the way. I share everything I know, and honestly -- I have no secrets. But, please don't treat me like I didn't work hard to deserve my achievements.
