Color Outside the Lines
I recently spoke to a prominent art consultant about pricing my paintings. Like any self-respecting former McKinsey consultant, I had a “competitive research” spreadsheet (with charts, naturally) and thought I set reasonable prices for the work.
The consultant’s first reaction was to tell me to lower my prices. “Why?” I asked. He said that the prices he recommended were more in line with the prices artists at my career level typically charged, and once I got gallery representation the gallery would raise my prices anyway. I’d heard this last bit before but it still made no sense. What if I didn’t want gallery representation? Was my work worth less because a random person with a retail space hadn’t signed off on it?
“Do you think my body of work isn’t strong enough?” I asked. “It’s actually stronger than 95% of comparable artists I see”, he replied. “Then shouldn’t it be priced higher than 95% of them?” That got him thinking, and he eventually acknowledged that I could justify the prices I had set if I changed a few things to better showcase the work.
Why am I telling you this? Because the consultant’s reaction to my prices is something we experience all the time. The world uses arbitrary systems, rather than merit, to decide our worth. We in turn wait for the world to anoint us, rather than seeing our value and anointing ourselves. We often do it without realizing: I only notice it in the art world because I’m new to it.
It happens at work: We stay in our lane based on our title or tenure, even if we’re capable of more or have valuable things to say. It happens when we think about something we would love to do: We look at the rules in that space, decide that they determine our ability to succeed, ignore any advantage we have that isn’t part of that world’s order, and give up before we start. Everywhere we look we see hierarchies based on pedigree, experience, titles, and stamps of approval from gatekeepers. We let our place in them, rather than our abilities and desires, dictate our behavior.
The art world prices emerging art based on the artist's career experience, not life experience. Yet if I had to guess, it’s solely my life experience that makes my work stronger. When I stood up for my work and my worth, it was surprisingly easy to get the art consultant to think differently—and productively.
Where are you limiting yourself by following conventions?
Can you anoint yourself and compel the world to believe you?
Found this post interesting? Subscribe at the bottom of this page to receive new posts by email.
