Artists are the only people in the arts community that are not paid*.
*An observation.

Generally, an artist works alone. For this discussion I am talking about painters or sculptors.

I have the perception that society does not value someone who strives to communicate in a ‘pure’ sense¹. ‘Get a real job’ et al. Society in general is threatened or confused by abstract concepts. They prefer to see realism. Which is often not so much art as illustration².

A commercial illustrator’s work can be quantified. The employer has given the illustrator a brief, and the illustrator has given the employer a quote for time and cost. Before the work even begins there is a contract. Measurements and clear expectations.

An artist, however, works alone, may take weeks/months/years to complete a project – which was not requested by any employer. No contract, no measurement.

Once the artist is ready they may approach a gallery. Even if they are already represented by that gallery there is no guarantee they will get a show. If they do, it will fit into the galleries’ schedule, possibly in a year.

It is not inconceivable that the work the artist began will not be seen by anyone for two years. In that time, the artist has had to pay for materials for the work and cover all the usual living expenses, rent, food, utilities, insurances etc. They do not get a tax benefit either.

During that time the gallery owner has been continuously showing other artists’ work. The gallery owner has earned an income during that time. And the gallery assistant, curator, installer, website and social media coordinator (often one person wears many of these hats but nevertheless).

And the supplier and retailer who sold the supplies that the artist used. The delivery people who take the artists’ work to the gallery. The advertising people, the framers, the foundry, any other ancillary trades that may be needed to finish an artists’ work.

As a some-times jeweller, I use a formula to calculate my cost per piece. This allows for all costs associated with that item. The cost of metal at today’s price, stones, stone setting, time spent making, etc. Then I need to double that because gallery markup is typically 50%. As a sculptor, this formula fails, simply because it may take many hours/weeks to complete a piece, and nobody will pay that cost. So I need to reduce my hourly rate, and in doing so, I am not able to cover my outgoings.

Feeling and emotion are not quantifiable.

Most artists work at a loss.

How do they do it? They have a supplementary income. They work in an art shop, or teach, or work as a gardener. Of course this means their studio time is greatly reduced, which means it takes much longer to make a body of work, effectively lessening their income through art.

In 2022 Ireland introduced the Basic Income for the Arts (BIA)³, partly in response to Covid. In 2025 it became permanent. It has more than recouped it’s net cost through arts-related activities.

It does not pretend to be a full salary, but it does give stability and sustainability.

It would be a wonderful thing for Australia, although I am not hopeful. I think we value sports more than culture.

Ultimately, we are all responsible for our decisions about what we do in life. If the need to make art is strong enough, people will find a way. Maybe artists are more likely to be introverts because they are happier on their own making work. Maybe its the personal drive to say something through paint or metal or clay.

I think that making art for money is putting the cart before the horse. It will mean the artist makes weaker work. They will (even unconsciously) make art that they think will sell, or they will be influenced by trends.

I think the way we can respect and support artists is to buy from respected galleries, or directly from the artist where that is possible. And never ask for a discount. And show your support for work you like – a kind word or a quick Instagram post means more than you think. And that’s it. Look at work and reap the rewards that come with engaging with art. And if you are in the position to, buy art. Art will bring a white wall to life, and start conversations.

In so doing you become part of the art world. You enrich it and it, in turn, enriches you. And that’s just as important as money.

1. By pure I mean not commercial art and not influenced by market forces. ︎
2. These are generalisations, and some of the reasons that the art world is so interesting – because there are no absolutes. Where society generally expects clarity and measurements, artists work more with perceptions, intuition, imagination. Left brain, right brain. ︎
3. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/feb/10/ireland-basic-income-for-the-arts-scheme-becomes-permanent ︎

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Art comes from within, through expressing your truth and unique perspective – Mahwish Khan

Most of my work is abstract in a sense. Sometimes I explore a feeling about something I have seen. Sometimes something I see invokes a response, but never literally. So my work is an expression of an inner thought and/or feeling. I try to describe my response to a thought, in my own (visual) language. And even I don’t know the verbs and nouns of that language, I just trust my gut and watch what happens.

I find it almost confounding that, having made something that can only vaguely have meaning to me (let alone anyone else) it is shown by a gallerist who believes in what I am doing, and then someone actually buys it. Someone sees in that work something that resonates with them and they want to keep it.

We all see the world in a different way, so of course there are going to be people who respond to the work I produce. But still…

A sculpture that I have made with brazed brass and canvas and found objects, or whatever I have used, continues it’s existence with someone else. They have, in effect, bought one of my thoughts. They have bought a piece of me. Not a representation of something in the real world but an indescribable reaction to a personal thought. Bloody amazing.

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Sculpture is like a journey. You have a different view as you return. The three-dimensional world is full of surprises in a way that a two-dimensional world could never be.
Henry Moore

Let me be clear – there are fabulous, deeply moving paintings by everyone from Rembrandt and Velazquez to Kngwarreye and Booth and more. And wonderful photographers and potters. And I have tried my hand at each of these disciplines and the closest I got early on was three small sculptures I made in terracotta. It should have been a clue because even then it felt right working in 3D.

To me sculpture is a manifestation, a force, imbued with a vitality. I don’t think I can get that with a brush. For me sculpture has a physicality that canvas lacks.

Sculpture needs to have balance and aesthetics from any angle, even if it has a determined front to it. It is figurative, even when it is abstract. It is a being.

Sculpture allows me to work in the ‘twilight zone’ between an idea and pure feeling. It is a hard thing to describe. Somehow I know when something works, even or perhaps especially when it does not relate literally to the idea. And when I don’t have that sense then it is time to leave it alone for a while.

‘In art there is only one thing that counts; the thing you can’t explain.’
Georges Braque

When I painted I always felt a great weight of criticism and comparison. I remember looking at Brett Whiteley’s work and realising I could never approach his fluidity of line and sense of space, or how he used paint. That was partly because I hadn’t given myself enough time to find my voice. And partly because deep down I am not a painter. But mainly because I am me, not Brett or anyone else. So I should be fiercely me, because that is the only path to something that is real for me.

I want to make things using materials that have integrity to the idea, and I cannot do that with paint, or clay or photography. I need to make things with substance, with body and physicality. Using my hands is how I transfer something of myself, something of what I am feeling, into the work.

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Ideas come in all sorts of ways. Sometimes I dream something, or wake up with a vision I’ve never had before. Other times something I see will spark a chain of thought.

This is one example:

In a paddock somewhere outside of Currency Creek is a forlorn structure that may have once been a sign, with a fence so cows don’t push it over, maybe.

This little fenced-in area stirred a memory of a time in my childhood. And so I began to draw little figures surrounded by a cage but that was just too obvious, and then I looked at the feeling I had of wanting to escape.

So there was a tenuous connection between a structure in a paddock / an idea of being confined / finding a way to escape / and also wondering if this is the last in the series of work that I have been working on.

From the paddock to the sculpture is quite a leap. Seeing something (often quite banal) can trigger a memory or feeling or idea seemingly unrelated. I think being open to possibilities and not forcing ideas is important. Allow the world and our ‘inner world’ to speak. If we listen there’s always something. Be curious and look for the truth in an object and the materials.

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When an artist makes something there is a timeline of sorts, from notion to completion. It goes something like this: idea – time spent thinking about that idea – quick sketches to begin to rough out shapes, patterns, complexities – more complete drawings – maybe a maquette, in the case of 3D work, or small colour studies or other versions to begin to visualise the final piece – maybe some test pieces to prove direction or technique or colour mixes – preparation of the space and materials to begin – making the work, sitting and looking, continuing to make etc – reaching the expected finish – sitting with the work, looking at it upside down or in different light, ignoring it for a week then looking to see with fresh eyes – maybe adding or subtracting something – setting it aside while working on something else – finally showing it to someone else, maybe your gallerist – after some time the work becomes one of the pieces in your next exhibition – and then maybe it sells. 

Of course all this varies depending on the artist. And often the artist is working on more than one piece concurrently. And sometimes this process can take months or even years, occasionally it goes from idea to final work without anything in between. But you get the idea.

But that is only part of the story. That is the story over which we have some control. Once someone has purchased that piece…

We cannot control who buys our work. Will it be a committed, culturally-aware collector or someone who likes the colour because it matches their couch? And what happens to the work in ten or twenty years’ time when someone gets tired of it or it is left to their heirs to decide what to do with it? The art world has it’s stories of art bought for next to nothing at a car boot sale that turns out to be worth huge amounts. And often this is because someone without any understanding has thrown it or flogged it off cheap because they did not understand it’s value – not just financial but artistic and cultural value.

Maybe it will end up quietly gathering dust in some bric-a-brac store, or moulding in someone’s attic: Clarice Beckett’s paintings were discovered in an open farm shed.

This is the history of our work that we cannot know.

It makes me a little uneasy. I don’t want my work to be treated like trash, to be devalued. And this makes me think I am being too precious and maybe pretentious. 

I put everything into each piece I make, and hope that comes through and gives each piece some artistic merit. But of course that is not up to me to judge, and you might think my work is awful.

And so maybe this is about control. I cannot expect anyone else to see the world the same as I do, or experience art the same way. I have to let go, and allow the world to do as it will.

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In whatever country we live in, we trust our government to look after us. If we live in a dictatorship, we maybe trust our local community more. I have been very fortunate to grow up in a moderate democracy. Sometimes it has made mistakes, sometimes it has acted ‘in the best interests’ which really were not. Overall though, I have felt safe and supported, with access to education and health care and a sense of a free society, given some caveats.

What is happening now is worrying. It is fascism, or at least it’s facsimile¹, and while it is in another country the fallout will cross borders, and potentially lead to war.

Why does this happen? Because of a mix of blatant and continuous lies, inequality, low education standards (not just education in schools but general lack of awareness or curiosity), religious madness, racism, misogyny, ‘nationalism’, corporate greed causing a steep decline in the standard of living for almost an entire population, insane tariffs, and alliances with dictators and fear. I’m sure there are other reasons as well.

And yet a large percentage of the working class voted this idiot in, and still support him, while complaining on social media about loosing workers (who were probably being exploited, and are now being deported) and consequently their livelihood. Buying into the MAGA* ideology requires a special human trait: the ability to believe in two opposing ideas at the same time. That DT* will make America great again, while slamming neighbours with tariffs and allowing EM* to destroy the services that support the people. They are just criminals after money and power.

So how do we fight this? I am not American, lets be clear about that, but over here in Australia we have our DT wannabes, and they just don’t need encouragement.

The chasm between the rich and (for want of a better description) the working class is dehumanising. Everyday people may be so embedded in financial survival they have lost any meaning in life. What’s to look forward to if you need two jobs just to pay the rent?

If you are an artist in Britain your earnings are probably unstable and about 40% lower than in 2010². Because rents and food and fuel have gone up, basically. Because of greed. And it’s not just artists – everyone is feeling the effects of these billionaires’ greed.

Peaceful protest is great, it helps raise awareness, but really I can’t see it having any great effect. If it gets too much ‘they’ will just use water cannons and tear gas. Hitting them in the hip pocket is good, but that needs discipline. Because if not enough people avoid purchasing products that are owned by EM, or they don’t keep at it for long enough, it won’t work.

Just a thought: this would not have happened without the internet. The massive wealth these evil shits have is largely due to a global reach. Don’t if possible, buy anything they sell.

So these are the thoughts I have, how do I face this, how does this affect me, because believe me it does. It affects all of us, even if it’s just the cost of imports or the growth of home-grown corporate politics. And how do I respond, in any meaningful way?

I am considering a ‘black series’, because all I see on Al Jazeera is woe. Maybe I am having a knee-jerk reaction. Possibly I need to communicate my feelings and this is the only way that makes sense for me. Because I see in all this the darker side of human nature, and also the good side, as people pull together to call out wrongs and fight for a better way.

If we all live our best, most compassionate, truthful life, well, that is a good thing, and one way we can halt this idiocy. I read a story recently from someone living in Los Angeles about living in a poor neighbourhood. They were used to police helicopters and trouble on the streets and then a taco stand opened. And the street changed and became more community orientated, safer and cleaner, because there was a business there, open late. And people started meeting each other at the taco stand. A small example of people power.

Authorities don’t work for the people, they work for big business. We have to make a difference together at the local level. Just by being involved in whatever way we can. Which is hard for an introvert to say. We have to trust in each other.

I am going to stop now before this becomes too much of a rant.

* I won’t pollute my website by spelling out their names.

1 It’s not true fascism IMO. This is all about power and greed. DT and EM and the other boot lickers don’t have ideology – they probably can’t even spell it. They are just unevolved bullies, drunk on their (temporary) power.
2 Artists’ Union England Britain faces ‘talent drain’ of visual artists as earnings fall by 40% since 2010

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To me, specifically. Which might be different from societies’ idea of success.

Let’s start with why I make art. That’s easy – I don’t have a choice, it’s part of me, it is how I express myself, how I spend my days, and making is probably the time when I feel most myself. Much like the person next door who is an avid gardener. It’s part of their DNA, as it were.

So, at least in part, I judge my success on how well I perceive I have made an object. Arbitrary, of course, because that judgement depends on how positive I feel that day.

Maybe success is incremental. Today I felt I completed a sculpture, so that’s a success. Tomorrow I start again. Maybe then I won’t be as successful…? So success is achieving something that I have been trying to do.

I can say I am fortunate enough to be represented by several galleries. They are in the business of selling art so they must calculate their risk, and I have been deemed good enough for them to show my work. Is that a measure of success? Maybe a bit.

It isn’t about money. Firstly, I am not making art with an eye on the market. I do not pander to the current trend. Secondly, I do not make a living from my art. In this, I am not alone.

Only 9% of artists work full-time solely on their creative practice in 2024 (down from 23% in 2016), with the other 91% also undertaking arts-related work and non-arts work.¹

So earnings from my practice cannot, must not be taken as a measure of success. Rather this is a symptom of how society values the arts, but that’s a different story with it’s own complexities.

Is it the judgement of my peers? Well I’m not sure, I’ve never asked. I feel that they acknowledge that I am successfully making things of artistic merit. Beyond that I wouldn’t know.

I saw an interview with Robert Plant where he talked about the trap of fame. I certainly don’t have that problem (chuckle), and I do not want fame, nor do I see it as a measure of success.

Is it the response I might receive on social media? No. Social media (Instagram and Facebook) is far too complex. I post an image of a sculpture I think has merit and receive 20 or 30 likes, which in comparison to others is nothing. But maybe they understand how to work with whatever today’s iteration of the algorithm is, or use a promotional tool. Maybe they are better-known than me. Maybe they are gregarious where I am shy. I don’t understand all the convolutions, and I don’t care. I post so those who follow me can see what I am doing, and as an easily-accessed online portfolio, of a sort. So my social media reach is not a measure of success.

So what gives me a sense of success? FIIK. 

An artist cannot be a success – because success is the end. The moment you believe in it, you stop. You start chasing what worked before, living in the shadow of your own publicity. But art is movement. It is risk. It is the refusal to repeat. Stay unfinished. Stay searching.
James Baldwin

Does it matter?

Ultimately, in the only way that really matters NO. If no-one ever saw my work I would still make it. Making work, as I have said, is a part of me. 

So why show it? Why put it in galleries? Is publishing work part of ‘the contract’ we have as artists? Does ‘publishing’ make the process of making art complete? Is showing my work an important step, some sort of validation perhaps? 

We hear of people who spend their whole lives making art and no-one knows until after they die. One example is Vivian Maier – a photographer who was active in New York and Chicago from the 1950’s to 70’s and whose work was only found shortly before her death. Was she introvert enough to be perfectly happy without any publicity?

Maybe discretion enables a pure vision, not marred by societal expectations.

I think the gallery show is a celebration that marks the achievement of finishing a body of work. And the commitment to make it happen by the deadline.

Success? I have no definitive answer. All I know is ultimately, I just need to make work. And ‘success’, whatever it is, is ephemeral.

1 https://creative.gov.au/news/media-releases/major-report-shows-economic-conditions-for-artists/#:~:text=It%20is%20now%20harder%20than%20ever%20for%20artists%20to%20make%20a%20living%3A&text=Only%209%25%20of%20artists%20work,26%25%20below%20the%20workforce%20average

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‘If you want to create something, keep resisting the mediocrity, the ordinary things.’ – Yohji Yamamoto

I know I’ve talked about this before… here are some further thoughts.

My tolerance for banality, mediocrity is low. I want to be challenged, to be asked questions, to feel. A lot of the art I see in local galleries and on social media is ‘pretty’: blind reproductions of nature, sofa-art abstracts, high-tech or ill-conceived dabbles. I welcome another ‘Immersion (Piss Christ)’ (Andres Serrano) because of the conversation it created. I relish seeing art that isn’t safe. Not radical for the sake of it but edgy because it asks questions. Or really comes from an artists inner self, as undiluted by ‘social’ media pressures and other outside influences as possible. There’s more interest in a storm.

‘It’s dangerous for an artist to fulfill other people’s expectations.’ – David Bowie

Contemporary abstraction seems to all be the same, sofa art for the masses who want to feel avant-garde. 

I know I’m generalising and sounding snarky but I’m not being elitist. Art is like riding a bike. It doesn’t matter what bike we ride, it’s the fact that we get out and do it. Art (of whatever form) is an inherent part of being human, so no matter what level we are at, just allow ourselves to be creative. Just allow a level of honest critiquing that not everything we see is ‘fabulous, mind-blowing, awesome’.

My feeling is that anything that is halfway good is being commodified beyond our reach, and seen and collected only by the wealthy. And this is contentious too because artists have to live, have to earn a living. Our institutions, for the most part, don’t consider art as having value. This has a flow-on effect – people don’t value art because governments don’t emphasise the importance of art, which is an education issue. And governments see mining and industry as the big earners, ignoring the competitive collective earnings from art-related activities. Art isn’t male enough perhaps.

Why are people so frightened of being themselves? I think we still have tribal instincts, while the world has moved logarythmically fast. In 1800 life would have been much the same as it was in 1700. In 1900 we could barely fly, now we look at high resolution images from the surface of mars on Instagram. But we still feel the need to conform so that we are accepted as part of the tribe, for safety.

No-one is exempt really – we all find some form of tribe. Sports, religions, arts, fashion, goths, skateboarders, extremists of all horrible sorts. All tribes. And being part of a tribe means following social rules. If someone dresses differently or makes art that is considered different they are marginalised, even if only subtly. 

‘In the quiet hours of reflection, do you ever wonder is the person you’ve become the one you chose to be, or merely the one the world demanded?

And if a piece of your soul was sacrificed to fit in, did you kill it willingly… or did you never notice it slipping away?’ – abyssaladvice

Everything about society is fast-paced now. Time for consideration and contemplation is lost. We are loosing the art of thinking in meaningful ways. And don’t get me started on the new trend: AI.

This I think means making art that has meaning and depth is not being created. And recognising good art and the role it plays in our society is not happening. Like proper journalism, art can hold up a mirror and highlight social issues, or take us to another world that lets us see our own differently.

Everything is made for the 15 seconds of likes on Instagram, and then the pressure is on to do that again. This all breeds banality.

And I’ve been sucked in as well, I am not any different. But I just want a quiet revolution. I want artists who are in it because art is part of their DNA to make, just for themselves. Not for anyone else. Because I think that is where it starts to get real, and interesting.

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‘To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.’
e e cummings

For far too long I succumbed to conformity: a government job, a house in the suburbs, weekend barbecues. I struggled to fit in, to find anything in common with acquaintances who talked footy, to neat local heritage suburbia, to not being me.

I’d much rather be in my studio.

It has taken a long time to create the conditions where I can feel that I am properly Simon. Still things to work on, but closer to me than I used to be.

I have found that it is a little alienating, partly because I am an introvert, but mostly because society doesn’t really understand artists. Most people think artists don’t have a ‘real job’, that we are just in our ‘happy place’, and that art is easily recognised copies of nature. So how can I say what I do if I’m asked? How do I describe the work I make to someone not artistically educated? What can I talk about?

The banality of typical suburban life horrifies me. Maybe purgatory is being forced to sit on a chocolate brown velour sofa and eat ready meals while watching the footy with misogynistic mates who debate the merits of holdens vs fords while wearing trackies and drinking West End. Cliche, yes, but I’ve been surrounded by just that in the past.

Am I being pretentious, elitist. I don’t think so, just honest. Why settle? Why drag ourselves from the pub to quiz nights to sports events to barbecues to Friday night shopping over and over again without ever looking any deeper? All the while being told that success is more money and expensive cars and houses, the very things that are meaningless and attainable by only the top few percent of earners.

I think our mundane cheek-by-jowl architecture and lack of green spaces and cheap BigW clothing and car-centric lifestyle all play a part in numbing us. It’s easy, to just go along with the socially-accepted norm. And cheaper. In societies with high costs of living people will always look for less expensive food and housing. The hidden cost is lower health and a disconnect from nature, and a loss of inspiring living environments.

Ignore FB et al, it’s just another example of dumbed-down banality. Died becomes ‘un-alived’, sex becomes s*x. There is little real discussion of important events, instead people post fake things and call other things fake, or spew hate in 15 second bites. AI will just make it worse. It is a soul-destroying cesspit. Being yourself online is, at best ignored, or else trolled.

Society expects certain behaviours, ways of dressing, types of living. It’s so easy to step outside of the narrow parameters and get raised eyebrows. My spectacles make people stare and they are not even very out there. And I live in a moderate western society. Thank goodness I am not a gay or female in an arab country, for example.

I need to express myself in my way, and I am fortunate to be able to do so. I am lucky to live in an interesting environment and have a close circle of friends who share similar sensibilities. So I have the space to be myself.

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What makes something ‘art’? According to Encyclopedia Britannica ‘A visual object or experience consciously created through an expression of skill or imagination.

The various visual arts exist within a continuum that ranges from purely aesthetic purposes at one end to purely utilitarian purposes at the other. Such a polarity of purpose is reflected in the commonly used terms artist and artisan, the latter understood as one who gives considerable attention to the utilitarian. 

This should by no means be taken as a rigid scheme, however. Even within one form of art, motives may vary widely; thus a potter or a weaver may create a highly functional work that is at the same time beautiful—a salad bowl, for example, or a blanket—or may create works that have no purpose beyond being admired. 

In cultures such as those of Africa and Oceania, a definition of art that encompasses this continuum has existed for centuries. In the West, however, by the mid-18th century the development of academies for painting and sculpture established a sense that these media were “art” and therefore separate from more utilitarian media. 

This separation of art forms continued among art institutions until the late 20th century, when such rigid distinctions began to be questioned.’

What do I think is art? Well that’s tailored by the years I have spent looking at art, deciding what I thought was good, feeling what resonated with me, and reading, from Diego Velázquez to Richard Diebenkorn to Barbara Hepworth to David Smith to Lynn Chadwick to Isamu Noguchi to Hossein Valamanesh to Bronwyn Oliver to Patricia Piccinini to Emily Kame Kngwarreye to Tony Tuckson to Rover Thomas… I could go on, but the point is that my education and taste is predominantly ‘western’. I respond to a modern aesthetic that has it’s core in Europe and America. Cultural cringe? Maybe. Maybe it is ingrained in my DNA to be drawn to western ideas and forms. Who knows.

Anyway my point is that our view of art is shaped by our culture, education, taste, ethnicity, politics, even religion. With some arts and cultural education I think that most can agree on what is good art, even if it does not appeal to our taste.

Whats’ the cut-off point? When do we say ‘that’s rubbish’? Well to a degree its subjective. That old hack “my four-year-old could paint that” ignores the years of study and hard work that has allowed someone to reduce their painting to an essence. So the back story is as relevant as the picture on the wall.

AI?. Well that’s a whole other debate really, but every fibre in my soul rebels against the idea. But what about someone creating using Photoshop? It’s just a tool, as is the paint brush. Or spray cans, labelled as graffiti by the masses?

And there is ‘art’ that can be bought at designer homewares stores or even ‘cheap-as-chips’ outlets. Lounge art, buy it to match your sofa. It’s safe, and easier to change for the new season’s look. Or on Facebook marketplace…

But is it art?

I’ve been looking at some of the posts by Jerry Saltz in reference to art fairs. There is discussion around the value of art and how collectors are only buying art they can be assured will grow in value. It’s a commodity. So distasteful really, despite being a possible metric for what is good.

Just for reference, recent art sales (October 2024) include:

Ria by Lucian Freud, US$15,443,964
L’Arbois, Sainte-Maxime by David Hockney, US$17,196,286
Balloon Monkey (Blue) by Jeff Koons, US$9,879,691

Jeff Koons brings up another aspect. He didn’t make Balloon Monkey (Blue) on his own, alone in his studio. He would have employed sheet metal fabricators, welders and other industry professionals to make to his design. So the skill required to create the sculpture rests in the hands of others. And he is not alone – many sculptors need help with larger work, just because of size.

‘Cave’ art – paintings and figurines from maybe 30,000 years ago. Was it art as we understand art today or something more pragmatic? A noticeboard saying ‘there are bears and horses on this plain’. I think it was art regardless of the reason. The depictions of animals are superb. 

It’s interesting that there are no depictions of humans (other than ‘stick figures’). Some carved figurines, mostly depicting mother figures – creating new life must have been like magic, and was worshipped perhaps. But no cave paintings of ‘my brother Thog’. 

But I digress. Recognising good art comes with a willingness to engage and practice, just like being good at sports or maths.

Smarter people than me have thought about this, so to finish here are a few of their thoughts:

‘Art is probably one of the only things left, the only true things left, which exists for it’s own sake and nothing else, because it’s a pure thing, art is a pure thing, that comes from a realm of which we are not completely sure about. That’s why we like artists, that’s why we love art, that’s why we think it’s special. 

That’s why millions of people go to stare at the Mona Lisa every day, because they are affected by the gaze of this special thing. The Turin Shroud wouldn’t be the Turin Shroud if people didn’t go to see it. And art is like that, it has an alchemy with those that take part in looking at it, at the gaze of it. So if you’re going to be responsible for that as an artist you have to be totally honest, as well.’ – Tracey Emin

‘Art and love are the same thing: it’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.’ – Chuck Klosterman

‘Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artists has experienced.’ – Leo Tolstoy

‘A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.’ – Paul Cezanne

‘Art has to move you and design does not, unless it’s a good design for a bus.’ – David Hockney

‘The object of art is not to reproduce reality, but to create a reality of the same intensity.’ – Alberto Giacometti

‘People need art in their houses. They don’t need Bed Bath and Beyond dentist-office art. They need weird stuff.’ – Ezra Croft

‘I want so much that is not here. And I do not know where to go.’ – Charles Bukowski

So what is art, really? You make up your own mind, and let your heart lead you.

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