Why Are Artists Poor?

Front matter

val

Artists Poor?

The Exceptional Economy of the Arts

Table of Contents

Preface 11

Who Has the Power to Define Art? 17

Artis What People Call Art 18

Preface

Why is the average income of artists low? Why do so many people still become artists despite the prospects of a low income? And why is it that the arts rely so heavily on gifts like subsidies and donations? Are these three phenomena related? Is it because most artists earn so little that the arts receive so many subsidies and donations? Or is the abundance of artists and their low incomes due to the fact that the arts receive donations and subsidies? Do artists who earn low incomes sacrifice themselves for their art, or are they being sacrificed by a system that pretends to support them?

In this book I will study the causes and consequences of the pervasive gift sphere in the arts, as well as low incomes and a large quantity of artists. I reject the argument that people do not care enough about art and that, consequently, an artist’s income remains low and thus donors eventually get involved. (Regardless of one’s definition of art, the expenditure on art products has never been large. Nevertheless, during the last decades, western nations expenditures on art have risen more than incomes. Thus, the notion of under-consumption is hard to maintain.) In order to explain the pervasive gift sphere, I examine the artists’ motivations, attitudes in the art world, and the myths surrounding art. The argument I advance in this book is that the economy of the arts is exceptional. The impact of the mystique of the arts calls for a multidisciplinary approach. Therefore, I will employ insights taken from sociology and psychology. Nevertheless, my neoclassical background in economics will shine through throughout the course of the book.

As an artist I am immersed in the art world. When I look around me there is much that puzzles me. I know of artists who earn a lot of money and I have one or two colleagues who do relatively well. Other colleagues manage to survive, like I do, because they sell their work regularly, receive grants and subsidies, or they have interesting second jobs. Most of my colleagues, however, are poor. They hardly sell, have lousy second jobs, and yet they carry on. I don’t understand why they just don’t quit the profession.

II

As an economist and social scientist I cannot ignore this confused state of affairs. Using a phrase of Deirdre McCloskey, I climb up to the tenth floor and gaze down at the art world. I notice that the economy of the arts, in its basic structure, resembles that of, say, food-production. Both economic sectors are involved in buying and selling, while prices govern supply and demand. Nevertheless, I remain puzzled by what I see. For instance, I can’t comprehend the numerous donations and subsidies nor the abundance of artists willing to work for low pay. Even from this perspective on the tenth floor I find it difficult to see patterns in the ongoing process.

The contrasts and Janus-like quality of the arts are puzzling for artist and economist alike. Therefore, this book proposes that the artist and economist join forces. They will look down from the tenth floor together. Because their knowledge and perspective can reinforce each other, they start to discern patterns in the arts economy. This book tries to explain these patterns.

The most striking aspect in these patterns is the two-faced character of the economy of the arts. The contrast is visible from outward signs. On the one hand there is a world of splendor, of magnificent opera houses, chic openings, of artists earning very high incomes and of rich donors whose status is enhanced by their association with the arts. On the other hand there is the large majority of artists earning little or nothing; often they lose money by working in the arts and make up for the losses by working in second jobs or accepting support from their partners. Moreover large sums of social security and other allowances not intended for the arts flow into it.

The contrast also shows from attitudes in the arts that are intrinsically two-faced. On the one hand money and commerce are rejected. On the other hand trade is very present in the temple of sacred art, as it was in the temple of the Jews. The temple of art cannot exist without trade. Moreover, the trade in art profits from the belief that art is sacred and beyond commerce. For art-dealers denying the economy is profitable: it is commercial to be anti-commercial. Such denial and simultaneous embrace of money is present in almost any transaction in the arts. Does this double moral standard contribute to the strong contrast between wealth and poverty in the arts? These are challenging questions that this book on the exceptional economy of the arts tries to answer.

The Art Forms Addressed Because I ama visual artist I shall use examples from the visual arts more than from other art forms, but this does not imply that my analysis only applies to the visual arts. On the con-

trary, in principal, I treat any object or activity that people in the West

I2 PREFACE call art. For the analysis of the economy of the arts it is important however, to acknowledge that experts (or the general public) sooner call certain objects and activities art than other objects and activities. For instance opera is often ‘more art’ than pop music. In order to study this phenomenon, no art form, low or high, will be excluded from the analysis.

There is one exception; my analysis does not refer to the applied arts, but only to the ‘fine arts’ as they are called in the Anglo-Saxon countries or the ‘autonomous arts’ as they are called in mainland Western Europe. In the applied arts, the surplus of artists is not as large and income is more reasonable. In other words, the economy of the applied arts is not that exceptional.

The book analyzes the economy of the arts in mainland Western Europe, Britain and the usa. A recurring focus in the book will be comparing the economy of the arts in mainland Western Western Europe and the usa. In many respects Britain fits in somewhere in the middle. Therefore the book pays no separate attention to the economy of the arts in countries like Canada, Australia, or Japan.

Method and Form Letting the artist and economist join forces is easier said than done. The culture of economists differs from the culture of artists, as was observed in The Two Cultures by C. P. Snow.! Artists and economists speak different languages. Nevertheless, the apparent conflict also offers ample material for analysis. Therefore I shall begin each chapter with a confrontation between my beliefs as an artist and my beliefs as an economist and social scientist. In other words, by taking both points of view seriously, I will try to deal with the economic impact of the mystique of the arts. In doing so, I will also employ insights from the fields of sociology and psychology.

But by using the artist’s perspective along with that of more than one academic discipline I run the risk of losing readers along the way. On the one hand, artists and other people working in the art as well as readers educated in another social science may find the story to be too economic, while those educated in economics may find the arguments too artistic or sociological. I must also warn the reader that this book does not intend to produce the precise, rigorous and parsimonious research often associated with economics. In order to make sense of the exceptional economy of the arts I shall stress the many ambiguities that confront the study of this peculiar economy. Nevertheless, by attempting to satisfy both the artist and economist inside me, I hope to satisfy the reader as well.

The analysis in this book rests on existing theories, available data, and on my own ‘fieldwork’ in the arts. The observations I make as an artist

PREFACE 13 are an important ethnographic empirical source within an interpretative approach to economics.* They contribute to the picture of the arts economy as I portray it in this book. I have tried to create a convincing picture. In this context, I advance a series of theses and propositions. I would be the first to acknowledge that the empirical support for some of these theses is insufficient. I also feel that more input from institutional economics would have been fruitful. Because, after all, I am desperate to resume my artwork, I am more than happy to let other, more skilled and patient researchers fill these lacunae. I certainly hope that my picture of the economy of the arts will inspire readers to draw their own picture. Only then will something like a ‘true’ picture begin to emerge.

The questions that are raised at the end of each chapter will hopefully serve to stimulate the discussion. I included them to make the reading of the text less passive. The questions do not have a single ‘correct’ answer. The questions will hopefully invite the reader to reflect on the chapter’s findings.

For Whom I Have Written the Book The first group I had in mind while writing this book is artists. My colleagues are likely to recognize much of what I have written. The analysis will hopefully help them to develop a better understanding of their economic situation. I do not expect them to agree with all of my conclusions, but I think they will enjoy the discussion. Because of its critical stance, I think that this book should be a must read for all prospective artists. It should make them want to reconsider their decisions that led them to become artists.

This book is also written for economists interested in culture. I expect that for them it will contain some new and sometimes controversial insights. The same goes for other social scientists. I have tried to present economic insights in a way that will make them more accessible and interesting for non-economists.

Foremost, I have written this book for art administrators and people working in arts-related jobs. Because they are the ‘mediators’ between the arts and the rest of the world, they must be especially puzzled by the exceptional character of the economy of the arts. I expect that they as well as students who intend to find arts-related work shall benefit most from my book. This would apply to students following a variety of courses in cultural studies, cultural economics, art economics, art history, art marketing, and art management. The book does not offer straightforward advice, but hopefully its insights will provide the reader with cognition, inspiration, pleasure, and some useful despair.

I4 PREFACE

Acknowledgements The Art Department of the ING Group, the Erasmus University, the Ministry of Education, Culture and Sciences (ocw) and the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research (Nwo) all made financial contributions.

Iam especially thankful to my friends Arjo Klamer and Olav Velthuis. Klamer contributed in several ways to this book. First, he came to Rotterdam and gathered an inspiring group of young scholars around him. This gave my withering interest in economics a new impetus. Second, it is nice competing with Arjo. I try to show that some of my views are better than his. Thirdly and most importantly, he contributed by respectfully criticizing the manuscript. (Even an extremely authority-phobic person as I am could handle this criticism from a ‘superior’ friend.) Olav and I share important socio-political views. Therefore he has been a most welcome sparring partner throughout the writing process. Our discussions encouraged me to go further than I otherwise would have gone.

I also want to thank the following people who all made essential contributions to the book: Steve Austen, Maks Banens, Mark Blaug, Deirdre McCloskey, Krista Connerly, Peter Cross, Wilfred Dolfsma, Maarten Doorman, Bregje van Eekelen, Karlijn Ernst, Marlite Halbertsma, Sicco Heyligers, Teunis IJdens, Suzanne Janssen, Rianne Lannoy, Berend Jan Langenberg, Wouter de Nooy, Henk van Os, Pieter van Os, Bart Plantenga, Merijn Rengers, Marc Roscam Abbing, Barend Schuurman, Irene van Staveren, Ruth Towse, Rolf Toxopeus, Giga Weidenhammer, Rutger Wolfson, and P.W. Zuidhof.

Finally, I would like to acknowledge the following towns which I visited between August 1997 and February 2001 while writing this book. Apart from Amsterdam [also ventured to Bangkok, Barcelona, Brussels, Budapest, Istanbul, Liège, London, Poznan, Prague, and Recifi. These lively towns and the people I met there made this project worthwhile. For most of the people I met, art meant little or nothing. I am amazed that I still manage to make such a fuss about it.

PREFACE IŞ

Chapter 1 Sacred Art Who Has the Power to Define Art?

Feeling Uncomfortable About Art

Alex, who is both artist and economist, lives in a house with six adults and two children. They share a living room and eat dinner together. The other adults have above average educations and work in technical professions. Alex noticed that at home he usually behaves like an economist rather than an artist. That way they all speak the same language. When he begins to behave like an artist, his housemates feel less comfortable.

Once a week Alex picks little Judith, one of the children in the house, up from school and they spend the afternoon together. Sometimes they visit galleries or museums. Judith is four and still enjoys it. The other day her father, Eddy, confided to Alex that he is pleased that Alex is bringing some cultural education into Judith’s life. She really can’t expect to receive much cultural education from her parents, Eddy added apologetically.

Cultural Superiority versus Inferiority

Alex finds it hard to characterize his own art. People knowledgeable about art usually characterize his artwork as so-called contemporary or avant-garde. They add that his art reveals aspects of outsider art or ‘art brut’.! Alex thinks that this puts him in a no-man’s-land where his work is respected in both avant-garde art and traditional circles. He exhibits in both areas. However, Alex soon discovered that these two areas in the arts do not carry the same weight in the art world.

Each year Alex exhibits his pastel drawings of ‘heads’ —as he calls them — in an annual portrait show. The portrait painters who exhibit in this show have one thing in common: they are not ashamed to reveal their traditional schooling. One day during the course of the show, Alex had to be an attendant. He had plenty of time to watch people. From earlier experience he already knew that the longer visitors remain in front of a particular artist's work the higher their appreciation of the work. Most of the people, however, pass right by his work without stopping, as if there’s nothing to see. When he confronts them later, they usually apologize, even though they do not realize he is the artist. They usually say something like: “I suppose it is good, but personally | don’t like it.” But he is delighted to learn that some visitors — a minority — only have eyes for his work. When Alex confronts them they will angrily declare that his work is the only thing here that could be called art. Alex notes that these visitors express this as if it were a fact. Unlike the earlier group, they did not express it as a personal opinion. There was no apology. Alex is struck by the asymmetrical nature of the behavior of these two groups.

Why is it that Eddy, in the first illustration, apologizes for being unable to provide his daughter with a more culturally oriented upbringing? And how can we explain why the exhibition’s ordinary visitors, the ones who prefer the traditional paintings, apologize for not showing more interest in the avant-garde paintings, while those who prefer the avant-garde paintings are angry at being confronted with the more traditional paintings?

To be honest, as an artist and an art lover, I take the difference in behavior for granted. I think that certain kinds of art are superior to others, and therefore, I find it natural that one group has no respect for the art preferred by the other and that the latter group looks up to the art of the first group. As a social scientist however, I am sometimes bewildered by the asymmetry in the groups’ respective appraisals, and I desire to understand it.

Is it possible that certain artworks are ‘more’ art than others? This depends on one’s definition of art. So, what is art? Although this is probably the last question one would expect in a book about the economy of the arts, I intend to show that the discussion of the question is essential for the analysis of the arts economy.

1 Artis What People Call Art

When Iam among colleagues in the arts, we always end up in discussions about what art is and what isn’t. But when I am among economists in the art-economics field, we never discuss this question. Likewise, in books and articles on the economics of the arts, economists seldom pay attention to the definition of their subject matter. David Throsby, in an important review on the progress of cultural economics, writes: “When asked to define jazz, Louis Armstrong is reputed to have replied, ‘If you got to ask, you ain’t never going to know.’”* Throsby then dismisses the question of defining art. What he is suggesting by this is that if you need to ask what art is, you will never know. At the same time, Throsby expects his readers to know what art is. Meaning that it is tacit knowledge; that it’s not only impossible but also unnecessary to put such knowledge into words.

Not defining the subject matter can be tricky. After all, economists discussing art always have an implicit notion of what art is and isn’t in the back of their minds, and this notion necessarily influences their findings.3 For instance, in many studies on the economy of the arts no attention is paid to pop music, while the reasons for this oversight are unclear. Is it because pop music isn’t art, or are there other reasons?

As an artist and art lover I want to believe that works of art are products that have intrinsic qualities that ultimately turn them into art. Certain forms of music and painting are art, others are not. But if somebody were to ask me to name the qualities that turn paintings into art, I may well point to qualities that some of my colleagues would disagree with. Hence the heated discussions. Evidently, contradicting views exist on what art is, and this does not help in the construction of a timeless definition of art.

Given these kinds of controversies, it is understandable that economists do not feel competent enough to make absolute statements about what art is. The subject matter can also be discussed in relative terms, however. How do people define art? Do some people have a larger say in the definition of art than others? And how do these differences translate to the economy of the arts?

In mentioning Louis Armstrong, Throsby touches upon a phenomenon that is important in the present context. If Throsby had written his article on the economics of the arts in the days Louis Armstrong was active as a musician he would never have cited him. The amazing thing is that in those days most people would not have called Armstrong an artist. At that time jazz was not art. It is likely that Armstrong did not see himself as an artist. He must have certainly seen himself as a fine musician and a great entertainer, as did his audience, but not as an artist. Since then, Jazz has turned into art, even with retroactive effect. So Throsby can cite Armstrong with no qualms in his treatise about art.

It is surprising how the boundaries of art can change so profoundly. Values have changed and so has the definition of art. Back then Jazz was not considered ‘real’ art and now it is. On the other hand, many art lovers consider the late nineteenth century German symbolist paintings hardly as ‘real’ art anymore. Thus it follows that what people call art is relative; it is not based on intrinsic qualities, as the artist inside me would like to believe.

Because what is considered as art is relative, I prefer to follow the sociological approach: art is what people call art. The demarcation of what art is, is based on the judgment of people, where ‘people’ can be a small

ART IS WHAT PEOPLE CALL ART 19 group of insiders or the general population. In the sociological approach to art it is often an ‘art world’ that defines what art is in a specific artistic area.+ The term implies that people who have a relative big say in the definition of art are related; they are part of a group or ‘world’. Such worlds can be defined narrowly or broadly. If not indicated otherwise, I use art worlds in a broad sense.

In calling certain phenomena art, people are in effect ranking these phenomena. People are always distinguishing products that are considered art from those that are not. Behind this binary ordering lies a continuous ordering. People classify products as being more or less ‘art’. Somewhere a demarcation line is drawn: above this line art is considered high art, fine art, or ‘real’ art, while below this line we find low art, popular art, or non-art.

Because the arts evolve and new genres arise, an art world is continuously repositioning this demarcation line. This is apparent from the Jazz example. When relatively small art worlds are analyzed, there can be as many orderings and lines and subsequent definitions of art as there are art worlds. Within society, however, such different opinions ‘add up’ and a dominant definition emerges. That definition ends up governing the economy of the arts.

It is clear that this book will not answer the literal question ‘what is art?’ Nobody can accurately detect art by using some objective device. Instead people are asked what they think art is. In this context it should be noted that when people call certain things art, they do not all have the same say or vote. Some have a bigger say than others. This is comparable to the market where some have more money to spend than others. Therefore, art is what people call art, acknowledging that some people have a bigger say in it than others have (thesis 1).

2 Cultural Inferiority and Superiority Color the Economy of the Arts

As an artist I cater almost exclusively to the rich and well-educated. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable about this. I often don’t feel my work is any better than that of ‘artists’ whose work can be found in open-air markets for instance, and who sell their work to the not so rich and the not as well educated people. I don’t understand why my work is judged to be true art while theirs is not. As a social scientist I want to understand this phenomenon. That’s why I climb up to the tenth floor in the hope of seeing a pattern to what is going on.

From the tenth floor I notice that the phenomenon is not unique. First of all, I see many other examples of systematic differences in taste between the higher and lower strata in classes. I notice, for instance, that the printer of this book, with his working-class background, buys Guns and Roses cps, comic books, and a little sculpture of a dolphin to put on his windowsill. These things represent art to him. The editor of this book, who has a more upscale upbringing, buys cps with music composed by Paganini and goes to the museum of modern art to look at paintings by Lichtenstein and sculptures by Jeff Koons. That is her art. Tastes differ; this is not so special. At first sight, these divergent preferences appear to originate from non-overlapping, separate realms, which are based on completely different and irreconcilable views of what art is.

Then I notice that the editor and the printer know about each other’s choices when it comes to art, albeit not in detail. They judge each other’s art. On the one hand, comic book drawings are less art to the editor than Lichtenstein’s blow-ups. As a matter of fact, she actually resents the printer’s choices in art: “This is not art!” On the other hand, the printer could well say something like: “Well, yes, this classical stuff — what was the name? Paginanni? — is of course ‘real’ art and Guns and Roses is not. Yes, I know, classical music is ‘real’ art, and I suppose I should know more about it, and about the things in museums of modern art as well but, well, you know, it’s just not for people like me.” Evidently he looks up to the editor’s high art, while the editor looks down on the printer’s low art.

Research has shown that social classes are not only vaguely aware of each other’s preferences, but that they order them more or less similarly.5 What is high for the editor is also high for the printer. Therefore judgments regarding art are largely similar between various social groups. They run parallel. However, judgments concerning each other’s art choices do not run similar. On the contrary, they are asymmetrical.

It is this apparent asymmetry or non-reciprocity in judgments that is so striking. People have notions regarding the art of other social groups and they assess these notions. Group A puts down the art of group B, while group B looks up to the art choices made by group A. I call this the phenomenon of asymmetric judgment or cultural asymmetry.° It is this asymmetry that is revealed by the illustrations. In the first illustration the a-cultural housemate apologizes for not being culturally educated. The second illustration reveals a group apologizing for preferring traditional art, while the group that prefers contemporary art scolds the traditional art group for their preferences. The fact that those moving up the social ladder are more likely to change their choice of art than those moving down also proves that judgments are asymmetrical. Two types of art exist: superior and inferior art, high and low art, or real and non-art.

Normally, people are so involved in discussions regarding high versus low art that they are unable to develop a tenth-floor perspective to see

CULTURAL INFERIORITY AND SUPERIORITY COLOR THE ECONOMY OF THE ARTS 21 patterns in their and other people’s behavior. From the tenth floor, how-

ever, we observe that there is considerable social agreement on what is

‘real’ art and what is not. Within a given culture, a dominant and univer-

sal undercurrent exists which determines what is more and what is less

art.”

Much of the reasoning in later chapters rests on the thesis that because of cultural inferiority and cultural superiority judgments are asymmetric. The thesis rests on five generally held assumptions.

1 There exists a general social stratification in society. Some people hold higher positions, with more wealth and honor than other people, and most people are aware of these positions.

2 People want to ‘better themselves’. (This is a basic assumption in economics.) This implies that people prefer climbing up the social ladder to falling down.

3 Because people aspire to higher positions on the social ladder, they focus on the symbolic goods and practices, including works of art and ways of consuming art, of those people in higher positions. They look up to these goods and practices. It is their future. On the other hand, they try to distance themselves from people lower than them on the social ladder. They look down on their goods and practices.

4 Because of its symbolically rich content art is used to mark one’s social status.

5 Social coherence in society is strong enough to maintain a shared notion of high and low art.®

If these assumptions are correct, they offer a solution to the questions raised in the illustrations. ‘Why do the lower classes look up to the art chosen by the upper classes, while the latter look down upon the art of the former?’ ‘How can we explain why Eddy and the people at the exhibition look up to the fine arts and apologize for knowing so little about it?’ Because people want to improve their social standing, they are generally oriented towards the art of the people above them, and apologize for their own choices. ‘And why do people broadly agree on what real art is?’ Due to social cohesion people share a general notion of high and low in society.

Generally these assumptions are seldom disputed. Nevertheless, some people argue that the differences between high and low art have started to disappear.? It’s true that some contemporary consumers of high art also quite publicly consume low art as well. This could signify that cultural asymmetry would become less important. For instance, I listen to Tom Jones even though I have little in common with the average Tom Jones fan. This kind of cosmopolitan omnivorousness, as Peterson calls it, however, does not necessarily contradict the notion of asymmetry. 1° (1) This phenomenon is for the most part non-reciprocal; it applies mostly to elite art consumers and seldom to the average consumer of low art.'! (2) It is often more relevant to look at the ways in which art products are consumed.!? Even when certain works of art, like Van Gogh paintings, are ‘shared’ by high and low groups, the ways in which the artworks are consumed and the symbolic practices in which they serve differ between the various classes.!3 For instance, when lower class art becomes part of the omnivorous consumption patterns of higher classes these patterns are sometimes ‘camp’. A double moral standard is involved here: consumers both admire and mock the culture of the lower classes. Therefore, I do not think that the difference between high and low art is necessarily disappearing and I maintain that the thesis of asymmetric judgment remains valid.*4