Why we should demystify money

Not talking about money openly is ruinous for artists, and here is how we can change that.

The uncomfortable word

If there is one thing I have learnt on my startup journey it is that there is nothing as energy-draining for me, and as insightful for our organisation, as interviewing our users. Invisible City is on a mission to help emerging artists get paid fairly for their work, so we have been relentlessly talking to artists from all walks of creativity and geography about their challenges.

Having by now interviewed over 60 artists, which in practice means spending at least two hours listening to each of them, two hours going through the notes and one hour discussing and making product decisions, there is one salient topic that consistently causes discomfort: money.

Money is a subject that can darken the most joyful of conversations, even if all I usually ask is

“Do you remember how much you got paid for your last performance?”.

Understandably so. When an artist has to reveal how much they got paid for their work, for many it feels like answering a completely different question:

“How much was your talent worth?”

It took me quite a while to realise that this logical substitution was taking place in the minds of my interlocutors. I remember how one particular artist would go into incredible verbal stunts to never mention the money or any number. I remember another artist who cancelled a concert because the interview made it all too clear that their carefully constructed persona on stage did not match the reality of having to take menial jobs to pay the bills behind the limelight.

This last one was a particular blow to me. It was the opposite of what I intended! Our mission is to help artists get paid fairly, and in order for us to be of any use we need to know the specificity of the artists’ context. During our interviews we focus heavily on the everyday pains: booking performances, running communication campaigns, invoicing, dealing with local taxation and payment terms.

So why does my simple question hit a nerve?

The absolute majority of artists are freelancers who never really know when the next sum will arrive on their account. How much will streaming services pay out? Will the municipality finally pay this month or next year? Will the booked performances not get cancelled? Some jokingly confess that going to an ATM feels like playing with a slot machine: you never know if anything will be given out. Unable to predict the future income, the artists’ relationship with money quite often gets reduced to this: money does not matter much, I wish it did not exist, so let us not talk about it.

I think this is quite dangerous for all of us. When we decide to silence a topic, we turn it into a taboo, we occult it, we mystify it. Money becomes magical, it acquires supernatural powers over us! It is that whose name you can not pronounce. When we pretend it doesn’t matter, what we really mean is that we have a trauma associated with it, and we refuse to reflect upon it, untangle it, bring it to light, demystify it.

Demystification

Demystification is probably the best word to describe what we have been doing at Invisible City. As a non-profit, we are not trying to turn artists into millionaires, or, for that matter, to turn ourselves into millionaires. Our goal is to find a way for both artists and ourselves to become self-sustainable and get paid fairly for the work we do. Hence money should be defined as per the economists: the most efficient medium of exchange. The white label of efficiency.

What we read into money is what is stopping us from having a healthy relationship with it. This is why at Invisible City we insist on talking freely and openly about money. Anyone can see how much each concert receives in donations. Anyone can see how much the artists get and what Invisible City retains in its reserves to stay alive as an organisation. Anyone can do the calculations and figure out artists’ and our monthly and yearly budgets.

We believe that by taking money for what it is worth and having a matter-of-factly relationship with it, we can help our audience to better understand why it is only fair to pay artists for their work. We believe that exposing the simple math can change the existing paradigm where as an audience we expect artists to work for free, thinking that by some magic the people who create joy for us have enough on their accounts to pay the rent, repair their instruments and find time to practice and rehearse.

The noise among the signals

Celebrity glitter does not help artists get paid either, as it mercilessly distorts our perception of the artist economy. A handful of superstars overrepresent the artist community, creating a sample bias of ridiculously well-paid, diamond-seeking, glamorous creatures with gazillions of instagram followers. The absolute majority of artists do not belong to this select group. In fact, most are unknown outside of their restricted circles — which does not mean their art is any worse! — but they end up excluded from getting paid.

In most European countries the celebrities get invited and are paid by local municipalities, who then offer such performances for free to the general public. This is good and bad at the same time, a Schrödinger’s cat situation. When as audience we can see a famous artists for free, why would we ever pay those 10 euros for someone less known?

A similar situation happens with streaming: if for less than 10 euros we can have access to an infinite storage of music, why would we buy a single album for the same amount? As consumers we are well served, and we have no incentive to question whether our money reaches the artists we listen, or is redirected to the celebrities.

A final hedonistic metaphor

As the wine you have not yet tasted, the artists’ song, dance or theatre play may just be what will enchant your senses, even if you have never heard of them before. As we find it normal to pay the winemakers, we believe it should become equally normal to pay artists, money not being the mysterious end, but rather the intentionally mundane means to the true mystery of our aesthetic pleasure.

If this blog article has given you a new perspective and you would like to help Invisible City help more artists, you can support us with your donation here: https://invisiblecity.eu/donate