Depression, the Value of Art, the Responsibility of the Artist to Society, and the Responsibility of Society to the Artist
by Eric Schumacher, reprinted with permission, FlapperPress.com
I’ve had several conversations with fellow artists lately who expressed they were becoming depressed. They wondered if there was value to their lives, if anyone cared. This has been a conversation with other artists with increasing frequency over the past year.
So first off, I’m writing this article to tell all my fellow artists it’s not just you. If you feel depressed and questioning your own value, you’re not alone.
I understand where folks are coming from. We want to feel valued, and we want what we do to have meaning. Our work is the deepest expression of ourselves, and it’s meant to be seen. We hope others will find our work valuable but understand the recognition and financial success that comes with it is often elusive.
Arts careers are among the most difficult to start, the most difficult to consistently make a living, and the most difficult to maintain. They tend to be expensive depending on the supplies and tools needed for one’s career. For many, it takes a herculean effort and total focus to create the art at all; yet the need for regular income in a field where jobs aren’t always consistent often means the artist must do any number of non-related things to keep a roof over their heads. Those other things take time and energy away from making the art and from building a career.
An artist must stay in touch with their emotions to do the work well, and that means emotions can remain right on the surface most of the time. It leads to an unstable home life and long bouts of loneliness. Getting an audience and the needed gatekeepers in the arts world to take you seriously can seem like an uphill battle too. The public and the art-purchasing world have trouble thinking of an artist as valuable and worthy of reasonable payment, until the artist is famous.
The amount of work that goes into becoming a successful artist is so great and complicated, with so many hurdles to leap, it can be demoralizing.
So why on earth would you, or anyone, pursue an arts career for a minute longer than it takes to realize how tough this path truly is?
Of course, you may have passion for it because of the way it makes you feel to create or perform—but there’s another reason. It’s necessary. It’s important. You may never really know exactly how important your work is, but whether you’re an amateur or a professional, if you’re called to create art, you must—for your own good and for the good of the whole world.
As a little kid and my dad, also my primary acting teacher, took me to my first fan convention, where one of the featured speakers was the stunningly gorgeous, poised, charismatic Nichelle Nichols, best known for playing Lt. Nyota Uhura on the original Star Trek TV Series and the ensuing hit films.
Captivating a room full of geeky fans, Ms. Nichols told stories. One made a profound effect on me. She’s told it many times, but I’ll badly paraphrase it in the way I remember it that day.
Ms. Nichols said while working on Star Trek, she received an offer to do a Broadway show. As a dancer and musical performer, she ached to get back to her favorite form of performance, so she announced she was leaving the series . . . until none other than Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. contacted her. Dr. King, a huge fan of Star Trek, heard she was leaving. He reminded her she played a dark skinned African (not African-American—the character LT. Uhura was born in the fictional United States of Africa) female officer on the futuristic equivalent of a U.S. naval vessel on a major network show at a time when the 1960s civil rights movement was in full swing. He reminded her that “all over the country, little black boys and little black girls and little white boys and little white girls saw that” and she should think about the impact she made. She decided not to quit. Star Trek went on to have groundbreaking moments, including the first interracial kiss broadcast on American national television and Nichols was part of it.
It gelled in me the kind of impact the arts have in society, and I needed to not only be an actor, my greatest passion, but also a filmmaker. I needed to impact society in a positive way and to make sure to tell stories that mean something.
While folks say the arts aren’t a “critical job” like medicine or scientific research or farming, if you pay attention to their true effect on society throughout history, you’d have to be dense to argue the arts are unnecessary for humanity. Most of what we know about history is intertwined with knowledge of the arts from different cultures. Most of what we know about everything has been expressed through art or has become important because of art. Art soothes the soul, stimulates every possible emotion, instructs, and gives us a common ground to relate to each other. It crosses borders nothing else can; as work from one culture reaches, speaks to, and inspires other cultures. Without art, a society has no soul, and little to leave behind, because everything requires some form of design, some form of art. If you read this while in a building, someone designed the building. The language of this article was defined by art. It is believed by many historians William Shakespeare invented as many as 1,700 words used commonly today. We use those words to get our own ideas across.
The arts create revenue and global prosperity. In good times, people buy art when they feel they have emotional space to consume it. In bad times, people buy art as a comfort or an escape. Art causes industry to prosper. Been to a movie theater, a stage show, or museum? You went somewhere to eat and took friends so you could discuss the performance. You travelled to see a landmark, a fan convention, or movie location. Art creates.
Even the amateur artist can have a significant impact, if for a smaller crowd of people.
I remember in the last months of my brilliant friend and business partner, the late producer/director Don Dehm’s life, how he showed me paintings made by his sister. These gorgeous works weren’t for public consumption or for sale, but they brought joy to his heart while he suffered, battled cancer. They filled him with pride for the artists he called family and how their work represented how and where he grew up, brought back memories. He and I made great art together too, and that gelled a friendship, a brotherhood.
Even when you’re in despair, you must make art. The art you make out of grief, pain, joy, anger, or plain silliness, can help someone, can affect someone. An example of art made through grief is “The Crow” comic book series, written by James O’Barr (see photo). O’Barr created the series as a way of dealing with the death of his fiancée at the hands of a drunk driver. That comic book, and the later movies and television series inspired by it, helped others face their own grief.
To the artist, I say you must create and share your creations. It’s time we remember the act of creation and consumption is a circle. Artists need fans to consume the art so the art can work. Artists need to make money so they can focus, survive, and feel they can succeed commensurate with the effort and impact of their work. I believe the consumer has to help the artist create, to survive, to thrive, a responsibility to make sure art is shared with the world.
Reach out and find artists who are fighting the good fight to create and distribute art, and do something to support them. Buy their works. Add financial support to their donation platforms, such as Patreon, Seed and Spark, Kickstarter, or Indigogo. Share social media posts. Introduce like-minded fans to their work. Send a message to the artist that they’re appreciated. Give a little to the small, indie artist who may yet be onto something the big guys can’t allow themselves to worry about.
You could make the difference between an artist hitting their stride and creating a work meaningful to millions of people for generations, or giving up, throwing away their dreams and living a quiet life of despair.
You and the artist are one and without you everything they are doing has less meaning.
Read a book, watch a movie, applaud a local band. Create, consume, and support art. The fabric of our society depends on it.
Now go do something amazing!
Eric Schumacher is an Actor/Filmmaker and President, Seelie Studios, LLC
