art of exclusion -- wealth recognizing its own

Seems among commercially successful artists there’s a disproportionate number born wealthy, some probably poor artist noted. May not have been a scientific survey, but sounds plausible. Obviously, a first advantage is the convenience of being funded. So much nicer to have a comfortable studio, maybe with a small kitchen and shower, why not? It’s also good to have enough room to stretch really large canvases, and just having all that canvas, along with tubs of paint, good brushes, and adequate lighting, all paid for in advance sure sounds swell. These advantages could make the life of an artist a shade easier, but they don’t, by themselves, guarantee commercial success.

Growing up among rich people, now that’s an advantage that’s difficult to duplicate. Someone’s unused storeroom can be rented cheap for a studio, and canvas by the foot and occasional bargains for paint and brushes may cost a few meals out, but anyone is free to paint anything they want, right? Still, in the real world no one can deny there’s a distinct ‘wealthy person’ sensibility, and the artist seeking to enter the market knows their work has to appeal to this rarified aesthetic. Typically, wealth prefers an art that projects exclusivity, that implies an insider’s secret knowledge and an elevated sophistication the hired help see through in a minute. This mute international style is brandname conscious and consensus driven, but just because an artist becomes adept at off-hand and arbitrary color placement doesn’t mean the established order will let them in. A few rich relatives conspire to launch a career, just how rich people business is done, and this secret ingredient won’t be mentioned on the resume, but can usually assumed all around.

Without such olympian intervention, artists from the middle class fall back to teaching on college campuses where they continue to practice rich people’s art on a salary, and teach it to students, round and round. Ordinary citizens who work for a living don’t seem much interested in this kind of art, and that’s just fine with with the industry. They cast their nets for larger fish, overstuffed with inherited wealth and tax-evading cash. Everyone lies. Their sales pitch revolves around sky-rocket fame and uncharted earning potential, rather than the visual character of the non-objective place-holder going into storage. So the question is, what normal person really cares about multi-million dollar speculations on the repetitive relics of modern art, with its unreal values and mass distortions?
 
Let’s start over with a visual mode that each person can assess from their own lived experience, and build a visual vocabulary that expresses the aims and attitudes of an emerging public awareness based on commonality and inclusion. If this sounds like art populism, it is. Original art has weight and influence. It can evoke both maturity and progressive thinking in offices and waiting rooms, enhance fond memories of food and familiar surroundings in pubic establishments, and help make a home into a private sanctuary, a source of solace and rejuvenation. To do all this, it doesn’t need to look like it cost a million bucks.