Vincent van Gogh
As an artist, you realise there is no good or bad artists, just successful and unsuccessful artists. Good and successful do not go hand in hand in art. Jack Vettriano has proven you do not need the approval of the art establishment to be a success.
Vincent van Gogh, arguably the greatest artist that ever died, his paintings are known by virtually every living human on the planet yet throughout his lifetime and career as an artist he sold just one solitary painting 'Red Vineyard at Arles.' It's unthinkable to think that such a poverty ridden career would lead to multi-million pound record breaking auction sales and van Gogh's painting's would be the pride of any major national art gallery after his death.
Vincent van Gogh, arguably the greatest artist that ever died, his paintings are known by virtually every living human on the planet yet throughout his lifetime and career as an artist he sold just one solitary painting 'Red Vineyard at Arles.' It's unthinkable to think that such a poverty ridden career would lead to multi-million pound record breaking auction sales and van Gogh's painting's would be the pride of any major national art gallery after his death.
Van Gogh's work, perhaps not the most technically brilliant but some of the most impressionistic, vibrant, passionate, heart felt, emotional piece's of art that any eye would ever have the pleasure to view; and put side by side by the artists life story of poverty, mental health, ear cutting heartache and gunshot suicide create's the recipe to intrigue mankind to try and understand the man just as we deal with trying to understand ourselves making his work the success it has come to be today.
Yet an artist like Jackson Pollock can splash and drip (lets not over indulge the technique) a bit of paint around like a toddler and experience fame and wealth in his life. Of course Jackson too had his struggles with alcoholism, mental health and was known as a recluse. With such likens to van Gogh, you could argue neither was a great life but you could argue which was worse.
Yet an artist like Jackson Pollock can splash and drip (lets not over indulge the technique) a bit of paint around like a toddler and experience fame and wealth in his life. Of course Jackson too had his struggles with alcoholism, mental health and was known as a recluse. With such likens to van Gogh, you could argue neither was a great life but you could argue which was worse.
Jackson Pollock
So as an artist, what legacy would I take - a career of wealth but perhaps losing my morals to paint art that sells rather than art with heart or would I rather paint the art that is soaked with my emotion and never makes a penny and perhaps maybe one day will see the light of day and come to fame in galleries once death gets its hands on me... which of course I would never know and it may just so happen that the likely hood of my art would be cleared to the skips as my assets are divided up in my estate.
To answer that firstly, I'll kick off with a story. Currently I consider myself to paint from the heart and the depths of my creative mind - I don't claim to be the finest artist with the most technical skills but then I have no desire to capture a photograph, I am not a camera. As an unknown artist I thought it would be a positive move to join an artists association two years ago, I'll refrain from naming it as I have no desire at this point to be derogatory towards anyone. On realising they held an annual gallery show I thought I should submit work and I did. I had no high hopes as I suspected the level of artist would be high. And sure enough after a month or so of deliberation my work was omitted from the event. I wasn't too disheartened. I made the journey to pick up my paintings and had the privilege of seeing the successful work hanging on the gallery walls as I did. At that moment I realised my work was not current nor in keeping with the fashion of the modern world. I was surrounded in bland, dull, brown and beige pieces of work, not fit for wallpaper - which felt heartless and cold. I'll never know why my work was not successful but I like to think that the judging committee who were all artists successfully displaying work in the show knew that if my work was hanging in that gallery next to their's no one would have taken much interest in their bland work next to mines, full of deep emotion and life.
Of course that's just an opinion. Mine. So I think it will be of no surprise when I say as an artist I will always be true to myself. If I never make it as a living artist, I will rest easy on my death bed knowing I never succumbed and will be hopeful that maybe, just maybe one day my work will make it into a national gallery to be analysed not by critics but by real people, the public - whether they love or hate it, they'll wonder what it meant, what the story was.
Of course I don't have that choice, to replicate anyone's careers, there are many artists that knew fame throughout their life that stayed true to art, well art as I see it; the only career I'll ever have is unwritten. Who knows...
All I know is I will never paint a beige canvas with a gold stripe going one way and two brown stripes going the other.
To answer that firstly, I'll kick off with a story. Currently I consider myself to paint from the heart and the depths of my creative mind - I don't claim to be the finest artist with the most technical skills but then I have no desire to capture a photograph, I am not a camera. As an unknown artist I thought it would be a positive move to join an artists association two years ago, I'll refrain from naming it as I have no desire at this point to be derogatory towards anyone. On realising they held an annual gallery show I thought I should submit work and I did. I had no high hopes as I suspected the level of artist would be high. And sure enough after a month or so of deliberation my work was omitted from the event. I wasn't too disheartened. I made the journey to pick up my paintings and had the privilege of seeing the successful work hanging on the gallery walls as I did. At that moment I realised my work was not current nor in keeping with the fashion of the modern world. I was surrounded in bland, dull, brown and beige pieces of work, not fit for wallpaper - which felt heartless and cold. I'll never know why my work was not successful but I like to think that the judging committee who were all artists successfully displaying work in the show knew that if my work was hanging in that gallery next to their's no one would have taken much interest in their bland work next to mines, full of deep emotion and life.
Of course that's just an opinion. Mine. So I think it will be of no surprise when I say as an artist I will always be true to myself. If I never make it as a living artist, I will rest easy on my death bed knowing I never succumbed and will be hopeful that maybe, just maybe one day my work will make it into a national gallery to be analysed not by critics but by real people, the public - whether they love or hate it, they'll wonder what it meant, what the story was.
Of course I don't have that choice, to replicate anyone's careers, there are many artists that knew fame throughout their life that stayed true to art, well art as I see it; the only career I'll ever have is unwritten. Who knows...
All I know is I will never paint a beige canvas with a gold stripe going one way and two brown stripes going the other.