Poseidon 2005Friday, January 2, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Failure is complete

This is the first day of 2009, and I want to die. I feel a deep despair at my very existence and my status as a failed artist. Why have I failed and what am I going to do about it?
To begin with, I made too many mistakes in my early life, which excluded me from the art world I've always wanted to break into. These included allowing myself to be talked out of going to art school at 18 when I first had the chance, and then when I did go later in life I went so far up my own arse that I disappeared into film work which I eventually came to realise (too late) was utter crap. The other thingI did was to fail to know myself: ie as a contemporary cross-media artist working in a variety of styles, formats and media. By the time I'd learned this I was 30.
These errors meant that I failed to make it into a London college of art. Now in Britain it is impossible to overstate the importance of doing this if you want to become a successful practising artist. Being a British artist is more about studying in London now, than it's ever been. Studying in London doesn't guarantee success, but studying art outside the capital more or less guarantees a life spent in small-town drudgery, doing crap jobs, being rejected by galleries, exhibitors, curators and critics as lacking the talent to attend a London college and therefore by definition, being crap. You need a pedigree. What college did you study at? Non-London? Sorry.
Being in this position means you either have to let go of the dream, which many people do and go on to lead happy and successful lives in some other sphere, or remaining a slave to it and building up a pile of "work" which is seen by no-one and living in poverty and obscurity, after which, when you are dead, your work will be destroyed. This only applies, I have to say to artists who like myself, are unable to compromise their intentions and need a cosmopolitan audience. Such people will live miserable lives with only their self-hatred for company and the world will remain ignorant of their existence. I don't think artists who study in London are better than those who don't: I've seen enough shows to be able to make up my own mind about this and think I can say this with authority. After all some artists choose to work outside London. I have no choice, I'm a slave to my dreams.
What other reasons do I have for failure? Well for one thing I don't like other artists. There is this naive idea among amany of us that artists are particularly "good" or "nice" people. This isn't so. Many of them in my experience are control freaks, competitive arseholes who are interested only in furthering their careers at the expense of others. I set up an artist's collective myself in 1999 following an exhibition and hated it: mostly because I didn't like the way it was going, with political and social agendas taking over from the creative impulse. This is necessary if you want your group to do well and gain exposure, but it wasn't for me. I resigned as chair and eventually left. Again and again I've seen the same, self-serving groups of people form power circles and hijack festivals, events, group endeavours, exhibitions etc so that they and their cronies can keep holding on to power and influence.
I suppose I would have been better off if I had decided to stop thinking of myself as an artist and become a postman or got a job in a chip shop or something. The failed artist, I sometimes feel, must resign himself to the oblivion he richly deserves . He must realise that he should give up attempting to become an artist and turn his hand to some more profitable enterprise such as selling hot dogs by the roadside. Failure is also permanent: it can't be turned into success.
Many people think success comes out of hard work: in my experience this simply isn't the case. Success usually comes without effort, or not at all. I've never seen anyone become successful by working hard, but I've seen many people become successful without actually doing a great deal. In art school for instance, the most successful students built personality cults around themselves and became "talked about." This was a precursor to their being "talked about" in the wider world. They were also able to manipulate and intimidate tutors who would either give them everything they wanted or mark them very highly because they were afraid of them. There are students at art school who intimidate staff, and other students, and it works. This doesn't mean their work was bad, they were usually very able: but they also did all of the above and spent a lot of time on holiday.
Sour grapes? Of course! Envy is the flip side of ambition, especially if you don't get what you want. I failed because I did not understand myself. I could have studied at 18, gone on to college at 20, and if I was so convinced I needed to study in London why did I give up when I didn't get in the first time around instead of taking a year out and having another bash? Instead I got a mediocre degree from a third-rate institution. This of course, begs the question amongst all this moaning, is my work any good? Well, hopefully, you can judge for yourself. I invite anyone to look at my images and critically appraise them: although I 'd prefer it if you could avoid just saying things like "This work is crap." If you think so, fine. Just tell me why you think it's crap!
Now, why have a blog if all you are going to do in it is bemoan your lot? Obviously no-one is going to read such stuff, so what am I going to do about it? I'm going to try and get a studio, then I'm going to try and upgrade my portfolio, and I'm going to apply for a Masters in London or New York. I feel this is a massive risk: after all, I'm over 40 and married. Maybe I'm too old, and I hope you'll share your thoughts with me about that. In the meantime I 'll keep working and having shows. I'd particularly like to hear comments regarding whether the work is of a high enough standard for a Masters: after all, I can't take seriously any comparison with my degree studies.
Please post your comments, and I will try to record what happens this year.
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