Be Discovered. Or Discover.

(In response to and thanks to Jeff Elkins)

The little story I tell about the small shop in a funky town in somewhereville does make us think about the selling side for art. I think it probably makes us, me included, think about the selling side because we are in the age of the entrepreneur. The age of me.

The small shop story I told is the classic — build it and they will come mantra. We see examples of this everywhere: cool restaurants in out of the way places, fabulous bookstores existing on some dirt road down by the river, an amazing game with a quirky boring blocks (minecraft), a delicious french patisserie in the downtrodden Doncaster (Yorkshire, England) bus station, and a sculptor living in Wilmot, NH who sells small statuettes for $35,000 — each.

These are all true and surprisingly easier to execute than many people are willing to admit. It takes guts to make art.

But…

I’m actually equally, maybe more, interested in the artists’ side of the bargain. I despair when I see live music, as I did on Friday, and find out the artist are doing it for exposure. These were recording artist quality acts pouring their soul into the room, while the private member’s Club calls it a trial run. This ‘trial’ brings in lots of money at the bar and about 60 people paying cover.

Did I mention we should #paytheartists?

Sure — there are deals to be made with artists, when one party does not want to bear the risk, but these deals should be equitable. Many people have written about this, so I’ll just leave it there for now.

But I digress.

Almost all the ‘build it and they will come’ stories have one thing in common, the revenue is focussed into the hands of one person (an artist) or one group (the investors). This scenario is amplified in the tech world where millions are being poured into ventures that investors hope will return billions — for them.

Of course, investors should get a return. I just think all these outsized returns and accumulation of wealth by a select few is kinda making life suck for the rest of us. Badly.

Enter the shop in somewhereville.

People are drawn to it for a number of reasons, let’s call this its vibe.

If the shop owner is thinking like a venture capitalist, she’s thinking about this vibe and how she can replicate and scale it. She’s thinking, “How do I get lots of artists on board and build a shop in every town?”

That’s not a bad thing, it’s a things we can argue about in polite company over a bordeaux or a beer.

Where it all goes wrong is at the heart of your question.

The venture capitalist (VC) is thinking about hoarding wealth, because billions! This means they need to put in place measures and platforms to attract millions to feed their pyramid.

And what about the artists? They might make a buck or two, but the VC can’t be paying out too much, because billions!

And why do artists buy into this model?

The VC is a great storyteller.

The story we are told has us becoming fabulously wealthy while we are discovered toiling away on the VC’s platform. We need their scale to win.

I don’t think so.

The artists in my story know that fabulously wealthy is a moonshot. And besides, once you make billions — you aren’t making much art anymore. The artists in my story want to make art, eat, pay rent, and have the time and luxury to watch Netflix and chill. They want to be unreasonable with their art.

And they can.

In my story, the shop owner knows her vibe comes not from her marketing genius or unicorn slaying talent, but from the beautiful partnership she has with her artist — their shared purpose.

As a result, the shop owner doesn’t take millions from VCs to make billions. She bootstraps with her artists to build the remarkable.

Revenue from the remarkable is mostly given to the artists, because the shop owner doesn’t need or want billions. No, the shop owner is not a patron of the arts, she’s a smart business person. And it turns out, if you aren’t looking for billions, you can make an incredibly lucrative, nice to people kind of business with a modest amount of customers.

But, Todd! You are killing me, I asked, “How do the artists get discovered!”

Yes. You did. But, the backstory is important, because context. I think what you are really asking, and I could be wrong here, is…

How do artists make a living making art?

Isn’t that at the heart of why we, artists of all kinds, want to be discovered? If we ask the question in this way, we begin to see the VC’s story for what it really is for artists — a trap.

My shop owner is interested in ensuring she #pay(s)theartists when she gets paid and at ridiculous (for traditional business model enthusiasts) rates. She’s not interested in beyond human scale or billions for two reasons:

1. Beyond human scale attracts the wrong kind of customers. Not bad people, just bad customers. Customers who don’t really want art, but a fix.
2. Beyond human scale is the artist’s enemy, it makes the artists into slaves. Ask any artist who is big, most artists will tell you they do a lot of shit that is not about art anymore. There are lots of mouths to feed. Conversely, ask any artist not making any money, working for free to feed scale. Not good.

Oh, there is a third reason. There is this thing called curiosity. My shopkeeper and I think it holds the key to unlocking all kinds of things for our society. But, that’s a story for another post.

To answer your question, framed with what I think is your intention: I think artists make a living making art by teaming up with shop owners who understand the importance of #paytheartist and aren’t looking for a VC, because billions!

The shopkeepers and artists team up to build those remarkable places that I mentioned before, but they don’t hoard the wealth with a few, they share it. Because you aren’t playing a zero sum game, like the VCs, nobody wins — but everyone benefits.

This kind of relationship means you aren’t looking to be discovered like the hero of a VC story, you are looking for a few fans from around the world. This kind of relationship was best summarised by the Comic Book heroes knows as the Wonder Twins. (Be curious, look it up.)

Hey, you may want to sharecrop with the billionaires, and hope for your moonshot. I’m not telling you that’s wrong, I’m just trying to explain the reality of that situation.

It might be right for you. I would just challenge you to look at the stories you are being told and ask yourself —

Does the way I make art, with its possible outcomes, and with these people, put food on my table and love in my heart?

Peace.

FootNote: The partner essay to this piece..