To ask if artists can truly come together and support each other as as individuals within a larger community may seem odd coming from me. After all, I’ve committed myself to bringing artists together in common support of our rights. But given the envy, sense of independence and embrace of isolation that comes naturally to any artist, it’s fair to say — can we really be there for each other? One would hope artist Alex Gross was incorrect when he said:

It would seem that there is no sum of money so small, no crumb of reputation so paltry, no opportunity to show one’s work so uninviting, that it will fail as the reason for one artist to stab another in the back.

I’m not the first to ask if artists can truly support each other. Many others have as well, such as creativity coach Eric Maisel. The man who articulated how artists live an art-committed life knows from his work with thousands of artists how challenging it can be for creative individuals to fully support each other.

Now there are countless examples of artists forming as communities. There are the artists the Copyright Alliance works with, including more than 12,000 artists who joined together to urge the President and Vice President to champion artists’ rights. There are the many artists who have joined with our latest Creators Across America video interviewee, Steph Brady, in turning Salida, Colorado, into a mini Sedona or Santa Fe. There are the writers enjoying the Twitter hash #amwriting created by novelist Johanna Harness.

Maisel and others lay out common obstacles to a true community of artists:

* Envy. Let’s put that right up top, okay? If an artist truly believes in herself, she’s going to be jealous of the success of others, especially if she feels her work has more to offer. Show me an artist who has not felt envy, and I’ll show you an artist who doesn’t truly appreciate what she brings to her art. (I knew a writer who put a photo of the most successful writer in her genre on her office wall just in view above her monitor. The photo had a circular target, like a sniper’s scope, on the successful writer’s face. I think that represented a target my friend was shooting for, not shooting at.)

* Independence. This sits at the core of every artist, whether a solo practitioner or one of several hundred creators of the latest Pixar film. Artists tend to be leaders, not followers, at least when it comes to communicating what is in their hearts. So how does a coalition of leaders figure out how to work together? Sublimation of ego is necessary in any community, but sublimation of ego isn’t often the path to great art.

* Isolation. For a writer or painter, isolation can dominate one’s artistic experience. It’s a bit different for a violinist in an orchestra, but daily practice remains a solitary activity. Ultimately, every artist spends significant time alone with her muse. As such, it can almost seem unnatural to connect, especially in person. (Admittedly, many artists now engage through social media, but that technology allows artists to flit in and out of connection, such as when there’s a a desire to — let’s admit it, shall we? — indulge a creative block.)

It seems to me that artists ultimately see themselves as a group apart, as our latest Creators Across America artist mentions in her video. And members of groups apart usually feel an intrinsic desire to support each other, lest the group fade out of existence entirely.

Communities can come in all forms. In the early 1990s I was part of a small group of creative writers; four of us, to be exact. I should say that we were all pursuing creative writing, but we all had regular jobs, families, struggles, etc., that provided ready excuses for not writing. We met once a month at takeout Indian joints and pizza-by-the-slice establishments, ostensibly to provide critiques of each others’ writings, but really to cheer each other on, to make sure we all kept at our craft.

I have long maintained that a critical element of any artist is empathy. Art is ultimately an emotional expression, and it takes an empathetic soul to capture passion and pain and convey it to a complete stranger. That empathy can lead an artist to experience more intense emotions, from joy to loss, from childlike delight to painful emptiness. It can be overwhelming at times, but ultimately it is the tool that allows art communities to be formed, despite all obstacles.

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This entry was posted on Monday, June 21st, 2010 at 6:02 pm by Patrick Ross and is filed under creativity, creators. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.