The definitive "roadmap" for artists

There are many, many "how to be an artist" books out there, and I have gone through them all with a fine-toothed comb. To tell the truth, I've never been completely satisfied. I always felt like something was lacking -- perhaps because everyone's experience is different, so no one book can cover everything. Also perhaps because I'm one of those people who is always seeking The Answer, and the real answer is, there is no real answer. There are as many ways to be an artist as there are artists in the world. That said, however, I always felt that surely there must be specific steps that every artist has to take if his or her basic goal is to exhibit and sell work at the national level.

The closest I've come to helpful career advice is the "Marketing Mondays" posts on Joanne Mattera's blog, which ran from January 2011 to November 2012 and covered a comprehensive range of pertinent topics for serious artists. I also thought Jackie Battenfield's "The Artist's Guide" contained a lot of solid information, but it seemed to be only for artists just starting out, not for those who (like me) are at mid-career and have already figured out the basics like how to write an artist's statement.

However, I believe I have finally found THE definitive advice book for artists in my recent discovery of "Accelerating on the Curves: The Artist's Roadmap to Success" by Katharine T. Carter (2011).  (Gotta love the author's name!)

Granted, there are downsides. The book weighs 20 pounds (well, I'm exaggerating, but it's certainly too heavy for reading in bed or carrying with you in anything but a suitcase with wheels) and costs $87.75 used on Amazon. The title, chapter names and various headings are derived from car and driving terms, which seems clever at first but soon wears thin. Also, the second half ("Book Three") is comprised of a series of what I found to be completely useless essays by contributing authors (the "& Associates" mentioned on the cover) on such unhelpful topics as "Do you need a website?" (I think we all know the answer to that by now.)

But if you can get beyond the cost and the padding, the first half of the book is GOLDEN. Ms. Carter knows her stuff. She has composed a series of chapters listing exactly what steps an artist needs to take to get started locally, how to expand to the regional level, move to the national level, and finally progress to international exposure. She explains concisely how the art world is structured, whom to contact (how to find them and what to say to them), and how to plan an effective strategy that is uniquely relevant to your particular style of art and stage of progress. The book also includes example letters to gallerists, consultants, museum directors, curators, and critics, as well as a very complete index of resource listings.

I highly recommend this book! (Note to frugal Massachusetts residents: There is one copy in the Minuteman Library System, and I'm returning it on November 29!)

A season of stories

If you know me at all, you know that I am an avid reader. I visit the library at least once a week, and usually come staggering out the door with a swaying stack of books. My favorites to read are autobiographies. I never stop wondering what makes other people tick, and reading about them is the best way to find out without having to leave the comfort of my pillow-propped, blanket-wrapped spot on the living-room couch.

Despite a busy fall season of teaching, painting, and helping my family, I've managed to squeeze in a lot of reading, including autobiographies and biographies of/by (in no particular order): Rita Moreno, Hettie Jones, Joyce Johnson, Carolyn Cassady, Jack Kerouac, Edna O'Brien, Lyndon Johnson, Maria von Trapp, Pete Townshend, and Jim Henson.

My current selection is "Bad Boy," the autobiography of '80s art star Eric Fischl. I didn't become well-versed in contemporary art until the 1990s, so I wasn't entirely aware of Fishl's work when his career was at its height in the dazzling days when his paintings fetched a cool million dollars per canvas. But I remember reading with great interest a long article in Art In America about his latest series when I was in graduate school around 1996, and being excited by the "hiding in plain sight" nature of the narratives behind his imagery.

Now that I am a painter, I find much to admire in Fischl. In his book, he tells of his humble beginnings as an artist, first signing up for an introductory art class at a community college in Phoenix ("because, after all, who flunks art?") and eventually earning a degree from CalArts on a full merit scholarship. He reveals his attempts to focus on story-telling with his work even though it flew in the face of current art-world preferences for cool, enigmatic abstraction. Devastated by his mother's lifelong battle with alcoholism and finally her suicide, Fischl struggled in his studio for many years, both artistically and personally. He sought an honest, personal content and worked hard to overcome what he admits were his shaky technical skills. Then, with the advent of the '80s and the guiding hand of Mary Boone, his career skyrocketed.

I haven't yet gotten to the parts of the book in which Fischl tells of his excesses of partying, drugging, and other responses to being put on a pedestal. But no matter how much debauchery he describes, I am inspired by his ongoing determination to be truthful in his paintings, to make his art an experience for the viewer. He was constantly pushing himself, even as an undergraduate, to make progress and dig deeper. We can all take inspiration from that.