US News & World Report
To a master’s of fine arts candidate, there’s no cliché worse than that of the starving artist. There is also no scarier prospect. It’s a stereotype that a fine arts degree dooms the holder to years of low-income frustration, but it’s one that is grounded in truth: Many emerge with multiple degrees to find few sources of funding, fewer jobs that utilize their degrees, and no idea how the art market even works.
Art schools want to ensure that their graduates can have their careers and eat, too. That’s why an increasing number of programs are teaching graduate students practical business skills to help them manage a career path that can resemble a choose-your-own- adventure novel. Courses in professional practices, as many are called, are like a vaccine against postgrad artistic suffering. Taught by working artists or gallery owners, they give students a glimpse of the mechanics of the art industry and offer them the business and finance skills they need to survive. Professional practices courses vary, but most share the objective of teaching artists how to manage their finances, promote, write, and speak about their work, and find ways to support their art, such as grants, residencies, and fellowships.
It wasn’t always this way. In previous decades, art schools didn’t offer practical career-prep courses, preferring to have students focus on their art. They expected students to pick up the business of the art world once they were in the middle of it, learning from mistakes. “I’ve had professors say to me, ‘Why do you want to give the secrets away when we had to work so hard for this information?’ ” says Cara Ober, an artist and professor at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore. “Dealing with issues of commerce and business can be seen by some as crass or not worthy of academic study.”
Major pitfalls. “There’s a bias in the arts that you’re not supposed to talk about having a career because they think if the work is good, the people will just find it,” says Catherine D’Ignazio, an artist and professor at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence. “That’s so ridiculous and so disempowering for an artist.”
That’s why professors try to anticipate the major pitfalls that await an artist in the first year out of school, so students can avoid them. The biggest is money. Some professional practices courses teach students how to balance day jobs with their studio work. University teaching positions often are highly desired by M.F.A. candidates, but they can be difficult to come by in a recession, so advisers and professors urge artists to look at what other sorts of income-generating activities would appeal to their creative natures.
“Most artists are doing something that’s not their art to make money,” says D’Ignazio, who has known RISD students with day jobs ranging from illustrating children’s books to guarding prisoners at Guantánamo. “It doesn’t compromise your professionalism if you have one career and another on the side. That’s the reality of making art in this country.”
Students are taught not only how to make money but also how to manage it. Many courses cover the nuts and bolts of finances and contract law. For artists, “money tends to be in extremes,” says Ober. “It’s either feast or famine.”
Students also are shown how to price works of art, read contracts with galleries and museums, understand commissions for nonprofit and commercial galleries, determine what can be written off taxes, and decide when (and when not) to seek a lawyer. “Ninety-five percent of what I’ve heard about artists showing right out of school is that they were treated unfairly,” says Jayme McLellan, who teaches an undergraduate course in professional practices at the Corcoran College of Art and Design in Washington and runs the Civilian Art Projects gallery in the city. “That’s part of the learning process, but there are things we need to teach students so they won’t make these huge mistakes. They don’t have to learn so severely.”
Courses also teach students how to find other sources of income, such as grants, fellowships, and residencies. Marilyn Arsem of the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston has taught a graduate course called Strategies for Maintaining a Creative Life in the Face of the Daily Grind. In one exercise, students write funding proposals, then function as the review board for one another. “It’s surprising that they can change their hats so effectively in that simple exercise,” she says. “As soon as they don’t have the time to look through everything, they’re suddenly like, ‘Why isn’t [the information] in the first paragraph?’ and they put it at the bottom of the pile. They learn quickly how you have to frame your work.”
Most professional practices courses help students learn to write clear, concise artist statements and encourage them to document their work in portfolio books and online. Public speaking, too, plays an important role in D’Ignazio’s course, because artists must be prepared to present lectures, be on panel discussions, and give interviews.
McLellan stresses networking-both the old-fashioned, person-to-person way and through today’s Internet-based social media. “I think it’s easier now than ever to get people to see your work,” she says. “You can post it on Facebook and your friends will see it, and if someone comments on it, their friends will see it. The worst thing is to be operating in a vacuum.”
Another way schools prepare art students for life after their M.F.A. is to adjust their expectations. Professors quash the idea that an artist will be discovered and make it big, or that commercial gallery representation or a tenure-track teaching job are the keys to success. Instead, they have students apply their creativity to forging their own unique career path. “It’s hard to set aside time for art on a regular basis in this culture if you aren’t immediately getting money to do it,” says Arsem. “But to develop as an artist, you need to trust that it’s going to be worth it eventually.”
Though it has been hard on them, the recession has helped new artists in many ways, too. “There are plenty of young people who are experimenting and not worrying about sales right now,” says McLellan. “They can’t sell it anyway, so why not do something more adventurous?"
As for that starvation cliché, some see the trend of learning the business of art as, to use a finance term, a way to ensure a return on investment.
Michael Dax Iacovone, a photographer and conceptual artist who graduated from MICA last year with his second M.F.A., credits the school with giving him the tools to obtain a fellowship at the Hamiltonian Gallery in Washington and maintain his studio practice alongside his job teaching computer graphics at McKinley Technology High School, also in Washington. “I might have waited for someone to come tell me, but there’s nobody there to tell you how to make it in the art world,” Iacovone says. “It’s not like where you get an entry-level position and work your way up the ladder.”
Art, and the career path to successfully making it, are unpredictable. So professional practices courses will continue to be a valued part of a graduate education. “It’s always hard to be an artist. You have to want it. You have to fight for it,” says McLellan. “I want to make [students'] fantasy idea of themselves as an artist rooted in reality.”