"Yes, I Have a Day Job!"
Confessions of a Performance Artist
Who Refuses to Suffer for His Art
by Alan Reade
Appeared in ArtsFusion, April 1999
When I was about 19, I tape-recorded a piece about telling everyone in my family that I wanted to be a performance artist as a career goal. Every time I said the word "performance artist," I had my sampling keyboard release a burst of canned laughter, until the roaring guffaws drowned me out totally. Maybe I was processing my own fear that what I wanted to do with my time would not necessarily bring in beaucoup bucks, but I mined it for comedy.
Cut to 1999. There is no de Medici clan anymore as there was in the Renaissance, few patrons there for the likes of "live artists." In fact, aristocratic patrons and that old standby patron "The Church" seem to have been replaced in this century by Mobil Oil, Budweiser, Marlboro, and the like. But do I really want some name brand supporting my work? "Nike Presents...Alan Reade: 30 Views of Slapping Meat on My Head." Somehow, I just don't see it. (I doubt THEY would, either.)
Oh, I know there are grants, organizations, fellowships in the U.S. But I'm talking about living WELL while I do my work. None of this suffering-artist shit! I mean, what a stockbroker does is valuable to the culture. Why can't my work have that same value? (Well, maybe not the slapping-meat-on-my-head thing, but...I can adapt!)
The value one provides to one's culture is sometimes, I think, dependent on what one is offering visibly. Sure, art is a fuzzy-wuzzy, joy-driven process for most of us artists, and that's where we get the real payoffs. Sure, a lot of us work in total obscurity and are only known by the same 12 fans and maybe six other artists. But those who make a LIVING at their art know that a secret to any kind of recognition--if only for the sake of making enough off one's art to break even--is having a "product" to present to the world. Something people can touch, hold, and, ya know, buy! And I, for one, don't have a product yet. No book, no CD, not even a Web-based dartboard with my face on it that people can throw Internet darts at. So, until I can make something that someone can purchase, the profits thus leaving me free to produce things that are not necessarily saleable, what to do?
The answer is, "KEEP MY DAY JOB."
For years, I have held jobs as a writer, editor, graphic artist, and Internet consultant. Loosely, I can say I've always made a "living off my talents." But would Laurie Anderson find herself staying until midnight to place commas in an merger proposal? Would Vito Acconci be sitting in meetings about tying the Internet business goals of the company at large to the goals of the sales staff? WOULD KAREN FINLEY SIT THERE (YAMLESS) TAKING ORDERS FROM SOME BEADY-EYED CONSULTANT ON HOW TO DRAW AN ORG CHART CORRECTLY?!
Well, maybe.
It depends on one's relationship to money. Some artists have wealthy folks who act as their benefactors. Many artists teach to get by, which allows them access to venues and a captive audience and leaves time available for creating work. One artist I know used to scribe Internet porn, which figured prominently in his work. But, I have very commercial instincts, for better or for worse. So I have ended up making corporations that I work for into my underwriters, whether they knew at the time it or not.
One advantage of having a job that has nothing to do with one's artwork is that it does not sap one's creativity. I mean, do you think I ever "spent" creative energy editing software manuals or clicking-and-dragging shapes in PowerPoint? Another advantage is that one can have access to software tools and...drum roll, please...T-1 Internet access! (Not that I would do anything artistic at any other time than on my lunch hour! Me? Never!)
Besides, I have met plenty of other artists in the corporate realm who are working to pay rent while launching an art career: "Pssst...don't tell anyone, but...here's my homepage address."
A lot of my corporate career has been spent "contracting," which is just a high-falootin' word for "temping." With a good hourly rate, I could make my way in the world and even pay for my own health care if I wanted to. This way, I didn't feel I was selling my soul quite as much--I wasn't so tied in to the overall goals of the company (and no, I didn't feel left out!). One disadvantage of contracting, though, is that companies tend to bring contractors in only if there is already TOO much work to do for the regular employees! No, they aren't going to pay you hour by hour to do nothing! But sometimes the flexibility in schedule and being able to leave whenever I needed to was worth it to me.
This is just one variation on a theme, however. The point is, I have an "art life" and a "corporate life," and I am just beginning to explore the borders between the two. I have a feeling that at some point, I will need to make a leap from workaday warrior to doing performance art full time. As crass and unartistic as it sounds, it depends on when I can get a "product" (book, etc.) together and how I market it. In the meantime, I'm earning a paycheck and stealing moments when I can, in the old cubicle.
I wrote to my pal Frank Moore (http://www.eroplay.com/) about how he balances doing his artwork with keeping a roof over his head. He sent back a poem to me, "Art Is A Bitch," which I excerpt here:
"...making money is easy
but the river of art rarely flows
naturally that way
without damming the river up
so keep your day job
get a day job you like doing
because art is your mistress of night
& you ain't her pimp
she'll take your money & time
she will take you into the basement
of the unseen
you'll get old with her
attending her needs
rocking on the porch with her
no goals, no plans, no marketing,
no rush.
Just rocking, just surprises everyday,
just people dropping by,
just floating without knowing,
just doing, just suffering, just enjoying.
Just following.
Just trust the bitch art!"
Indeed.
And, hey, when I need more money for upcoming creative projects, forget grant applications--I can just ask my boss for a raise!
Now, THAT's a bitch.
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Alan Reade is a San Francisco based writer and performance artist whose work explores America's relationships with mass media. His home site is at http://www.alanreade.com/ . (Oh yeah, if you know of any writing or Internet development jobs, drop him a line! The boy's gotta eat!)