Rebranding

I was preparing to write this blog post while listening to the incessant drone of one of the innumerable current events podcasts on Youtube. I thought of that Kendrick Lamar song, “TV Off”. There’s always some noise now, it seems, and I’ve never been much at multitasking. That’s why, like so many of us, I’m trying to unplug more and take time to reflect. Social media has become a torrent of sensation vying for attention. I’ve come to realize that it wasn’t getting me anywhere, because where I’m going isn’t there.

I see so many artists, both genuine and ostensible, using the word brand to describe their persona. Some are rebranding their social media by adhering to a singular aesthetic or color scheme. Others describe the ways they’ve developed their brand, or how that brand harmonizes with the brands of others. Like using the word content to describe work, we’re beginning to use the word brand to describe people. Brands are for cattle, not artists.

If I paint only for my own pleasure, there is little value for anyone else. If I paint only for the sake of a brand image, there is little value for me...or, I think, for art. Learning to reconcile the two is part of the process, and part of what elevates art to something beyond mere decoration. Art done solely for the artist is more of a religious devotion, and there is certainly a place for that, but that place is not on social media. Conversely, paintings done for the sake of the viewer do belong very much on social media, but I question their merit as art and their ability to inspire or convict.

The most successful artists on social media are (excluding those with wealth and privilege) very technically skilled, either at their craft or at presenting and advertising. In the attention economy nuance is a liability. Everything has to “pop” Even contemporary art academies, like the college in Savannah, GA are teaching students to paint in a characteristically vivid way that seems more suited to an megapixel monitor than a canvas. Everything is like candy these days. Artists are supposed to sing but we’re expected to shout.

For me, my paintings aren’t always pretty and certainly not always consistent. Posting daily for years meant showing the bad with the good, and losing as many followers as I gained. I lost count of how many equestrian enthusiasts followed me after I posted horse paintings only to leave when I posted the first abstract...or vice versa. So, the obvious strategy is to be consistent and court an audience. Everything from our meals to our television programming is designed for consistency now, and art is expected to follow suit. There are even artists now who are employed by companies like Samsung to make digital art for television screens on standby.

But, I don’t want to be consistent. I want to make mistakes and I want to make paintings that take time to be appreciated. The average reel on social media gets about 3-4 seconds of attention. That’s why the canvas reveal became popular, it triggered the primitive impulse in our limbic system that responds to movement. Like Bob Dylan sang back in 1978, “There’s No Time to Think”. And that rush through the endless aisles of the candy shop means artists are just one brand to be considered amongst many with better names and corporate backing. So, artists reduce themselves to clever titles and obliterate their names and identities to the Molech of commerce.

I don’t mean to cast aspersions on influencers altogether, or deny the merits of branding oneself if pleased to do so. Some people really enjoy the feeling of being a public figure, and of having a sense of virtual community. But, I think that’s separate from art, just as business is. For me, the time and effort I’ve spent worrying about producing finished and presentable work for the internet is time I could have spent better making art. I only spend an hour or so each day editing and photographing for social media, but those hours add up and don’t include the time spent engaging with the internet platforms themselves.

I was worrying about consistent scheduling, rushing to complete paintings in haste. Worse still, I’ve become accustomed to video recording myself and stay self conscious of the process knowing that I have to stay committed to some degree no matter what. Nothing is more anathema to art. My best work is often done when I lose my temper and obliterate large parts of a painting to start over. I’ve always painted over unsold paintings and those I’m dissatisfied with. It’s an important part of my process, and completely incompatible with a consistent posting schedule and “brand image”.

I saw an excellent realist painter from Australia on Instagram with hundreds of thousands of followers. They only finish one or two paintings a month and made at least one video discussing how we shouldn’t presume artists earn a living from their art, because they’d never actually sold a painting. That’s an example of what I mean about their being a place for influencers. This person is an artist, but they also enjoy producing videos and acting on the internet. I enjoy making videos occasionally, but my painting practice is much more important to me.

The advice I see most online is that artists should post behind the scenes images of their studios, and process reels. The sensationalist algorithms respond well to up close images of mark making with a brush or, better yet, mistakes. But the artists I see doing that, at least here in the southeast, are presenting lifestyles that match their brand. I’m not a terribly interesting person, and I don’t think Andy Warhol was either. Putting on a literal song and dance number for the internet isn’t practical when the algorithm no longer rewards it. I plan to continue recording shorts for Youtube, and may even consider TikTok one day, when it’s not popular anymore.