Jul 6, 2015 05:02 PM
https://www.jacobinmag.com/2015/07/starv...verty-ubi/
EXCERPT: The missives from the struggling artist keep piling up. Filmmakers show their work at renowned film festivals but still turn to crowdfunding to pay emergency vet bills. Writers agonize over how mortgage officers will perceive incomes cobbled together from teaching contracts and freelance gigs. Musicians go on successful tours but come home with deep debts, while their widely streamed songs earn a pittance.
In 2012, one of the most popular indie bands around, Grizzly Bear, shared how little their lives had changed since their success — one band member remained in the same 450-square-foot apartment, while the rest still lacked health care coverage. Since the bottom has fallen out of record sales, the band earns its livelihood through licensing and touring, but, as singer Ed Droste explains, the latter usually means not having to pay rent for a couple months rather than a large windfall.
In a post-Napster era, artists of all stripes face the expectation that the fruits of their labor should circulate for free, both on and offline, and when revenues from creative work do trickle in, they rarely amount to a decent wage.
Persistent shame and stigma about poverty have made some artists wary of admitting their difficulty making ends meet. One blogger with an MFA in creative writing states, “I haven’t been talking about how poor I am in a serious way or how terrifying it is to be on the cusp of my 30th birthday, wondering when I’ll have enough quarters to do laundry again.”
Yet these days more and more artists are challenging the bohemian stance that artists should shun economic capital in favor of pursuing art for art’s sake. Artists and creative workers increasingly lick their low-income wounds publicly and vent about the elaborate dance of self-reinvention in the digital age. It’s become trendy to discuss and even quantify exactly how little money is being made from creative projects. Mathematics has never looked so hip.
These confessionals stem from a desire to raise awareness about artist livelihoods and draw attention to the contemporary challenges of earning a living from creative work. Stories like Grizzly Bear’s bring immediacy and detail to broad and harsh economic realities and can be vehicles for empathy, building bridges for the reader to commiserate with their fellow human.
But beyond commiseration, it’s unclear whether these stories play any role in instigating change, or creating more favorable working conditions....
EXCERPT: The missives from the struggling artist keep piling up. Filmmakers show their work at renowned film festivals but still turn to crowdfunding to pay emergency vet bills. Writers agonize over how mortgage officers will perceive incomes cobbled together from teaching contracts and freelance gigs. Musicians go on successful tours but come home with deep debts, while their widely streamed songs earn a pittance.
In 2012, one of the most popular indie bands around, Grizzly Bear, shared how little their lives had changed since their success — one band member remained in the same 450-square-foot apartment, while the rest still lacked health care coverage. Since the bottom has fallen out of record sales, the band earns its livelihood through licensing and touring, but, as singer Ed Droste explains, the latter usually means not having to pay rent for a couple months rather than a large windfall.
In a post-Napster era, artists of all stripes face the expectation that the fruits of their labor should circulate for free, both on and offline, and when revenues from creative work do trickle in, they rarely amount to a decent wage.
Persistent shame and stigma about poverty have made some artists wary of admitting their difficulty making ends meet. One blogger with an MFA in creative writing states, “I haven’t been talking about how poor I am in a serious way or how terrifying it is to be on the cusp of my 30th birthday, wondering when I’ll have enough quarters to do laundry again.”
Yet these days more and more artists are challenging the bohemian stance that artists should shun economic capital in favor of pursuing art for art’s sake. Artists and creative workers increasingly lick their low-income wounds publicly and vent about the elaborate dance of self-reinvention in the digital age. It’s become trendy to discuss and even quantify exactly how little money is being made from creative projects. Mathematics has never looked so hip.
These confessionals stem from a desire to raise awareness about artist livelihoods and draw attention to the contemporary challenges of earning a living from creative work. Stories like Grizzly Bear’s bring immediacy and detail to broad and harsh economic realities and can be vehicles for empathy, building bridges for the reader to commiserate with their fellow human.
But beyond commiseration, it’s unclear whether these stories play any role in instigating change, or creating more favorable working conditions....