The Artist Landscape

Recently, a group chat on Discord took a sad(der) turn. While some artists get steady support on Patreon, others feel guilty for trying. To be “monetary” about their art.

It got me thinking. Is all this truly radical in the world and economy of art? Or has nothing really changed?

What Has Changed

I’m still not really sure. But here’s at least a few that sticks out to me.

Immediate (and eternal) exposure

In ye olden days, artworks were purely physical. They had to be transported to be shared.

Physical artworks have a sort of natural “exclusivity” to them. You sell an amazing painting to a rich home? Who’s going to see it? Well, other rich people invited to the home. Not those poor people outside 😝 (end of being facetious).

And because these people are also rich, they can become your next customers. Handy.

Nowadays, what is done to share art online? Post it. Repost it. Share it. Forever. Because even if you delete it, it doesn’t stop anyone from downloading, scraping, or reposting.

We’ve optimized the convenience of sharing. But that also means everything is shared, which leads to…

Homogeneity in digital art

With the rise of social media, all art we see on a day-to-day basis is put in the same context.

Michelangelo fine art? A wojak meme? A clay sculpt? An animation? All digitized, in the same feed. All viewed from my couch, supporting my (badly postured) back.

I think that’s why artists crave portfolios and even their own custom sites. We want that context back. Something that keeps our art separate from the often-fluff in feeds.

That’s one of the offerings of paid creator platforms like Patreon: distance from “typical” social media. At the very least, being near other creatives.

Not just commissions

My initial draft of this actually went down a rabbit hole of how artists during the Renaissance worked. In short, it was commissions and contract work. From the rich, including businesses like churches.

Today, contract and freelance work still falls into this. But the audience and methods of payment have widened.

At least in America, the middle class has ballooned with more “spending money” than usual. Over-consumption is (almost) normalized. Many can afford commissioning artists.

For customers who simply refuse to pay for anything? Ads. Yes, I know we all hate ads. But as a society, we put up with them quite a lot for them to be hated. We hate ads, but we also don’t like having to pay for things. Guess which one often wins?

So artists market and appeal to more people, which may not necessarily help their conversion rate, likely due to…

Consumption Fatigue

The term “brain rot” is genuinely so accurate for platforms like Instagram. Even after a few minutes, it gets hard to process, let alone appreciate, what I see.

I see many lovely artworks on there. But the consuming of 5+ bite-sized videos per minute in our social feeds, and paranoia of curation affecting what we see (and what others see about us), our brains are so dopamine-d up that it’s harder to get me to stop and enjoy an artwork, let alone support the creator behind it.

What’s an Artist to Do?

In some ways, platforms like Patreon alleviate these — creating better context for artworks and offering more revenue streams. With the widening of audiences and consumption fatigue, Patreon doesn’t necessarily do much better.

Regarding “what’s changed?” I don’t think I’m qualified to truly answer what’s changed in the past few years.

While I’m not a successful online content creator by any means, let me share at least advice from what I’ve seen work for others.

Focus on one platform

(I said I wasn’t the example here, didn’t I? 😅🙈)

The most successful creators I follow often pick one platform to be truly active on.

Yes, sadly you still need accounts on other platforms. But they now become a “pipe” to your main platform. Reels become snippets or teasers of your main content, or at the very least a way to notify followers of new videos.

While YouTube and Patreon are among the most versatile, they may not be for you. It depends on a few things:

• Length of your video content (long vs short)

• Primary medium of content (audio vs video vs writing vs interactive)

• Pseudo-social intimacy (openly chill with followers on a livestream vs reply to comments in your own time)

• Revenue stream options (sponsors, ads, direct commissions)

• How strongly you need to control context (algorithm-based platforms, fediverse, separate website or newsletter)

Honestly, you could probably make most platforms work for you. But the point is to pick one, and focus on it.

Develop your (digital) personality

I could just say “branding” and leave it at that, but that’s not really what I mean here.

Here’s two very different videos. I want you to think of their “personalities.” At least watch the first few minutes, if you’re pretending that you’re busy.

While fashion itself doesn’t interest me (this is from my wife’s subscriptions, mind you), it’s amusing to watch. With the fast narration and tightly-cut editing that makes you question if her (and you) are high, I can immediately tell what a Micarah video “feels” like.

Now try this one:

Tim Caine practically never cuts in his videos. Maybe an overlay if he feels like it. He just refers to some notes as he talks, all in one take.

Yes, Micarah has far more subscribers and favors “the algorithm.” And Tim started with an existing reputation among game developers.

But there are examples of creators that are the opposite in both fields: lecture-style fashion designer videos, and high-octane gamedev blogs (remember Dani?).

In short, don’t feel like you have to fit a mold. Think about how you want to share with your followers. How would you tell them?

Markiplier in a recent video talked about the importance of learning (video) editing for yourself. I couldn’t agree more. Even if you end up not doing it or outsource your editing, it gives you a sense of your content’s pacing, and what personality it yearns for.

I’ve been slowly adding (back) more jokes to my edits. I literally struggle with not pulling out all the jokes I make.

Humor is very much part of my life. But it’s hard to embrace showing my personality in my videos. It means being vulnerable and different from a “guaranteed normal” mold you see everywhere.

Practice with unpublished videos, if you have to. But have someone else watch it and give feedback. Don’t just judge it yourself.

Leaning into your digital personality will make your content more recognizable, and help you grow a more organic audience. Virality is great, but only followers will stay, especially if you change or add platforms over time.

Decide which content is worth paying for

And don’t rely on a single method of payment. Some monetary methods I’ve seen, per type of creator:

• Livestreamer: donations, sponsorships, ads from YouTube crossposts, merch

• Blender YouTube creator: Patreon for BTS and .blend files, YouTube ads + sponsorships

• Film critic: YouTube sponsorships (but posting multiple reviews a week)

• Asset website owner: standalone website with paid subscription, YouTube ads on their marketing videos

• Freelance artist: big commissions from companies, digital products of Blender tools or ultra high-res wallpapers of their artworks, paid educational courses on “getting into the industry”

• Filmmaker: pay-to-view their movies (often cheap, $1-2), ads from YouTube uploads of their movies or trailers, investments from producers, funding campaigns throughout process (fundraisers, local viewings outside festivals)

Not all of these rely on making the art what people pay for. And I know freelance artists with “weak” social media presences because they have such a strong network of clients.

As you can see, it’s often very mix-and-match. This is all far more flexible than artists may realize. Try different methods out.

Believe people can show up for you

It’s discouraging when no one comes to see your art. I’ve felt that with some of my artsy videos, and even paid products I spend months on.

You feel like a kid with a little lemonade stand, just watching all the cars drive past.

After a while, to protect yourself, you tell yourself that no one (or no significant number) will come for you. To “only make art for yourself,” which is a good thing, but takes an important part of the equation out: connection with viewers.

Please believe people can show up for you. Also talking to me here. Let that belief change as people find you, follow you, and show up for you.

While on the extreme end of creator reputation, Markiplier made me reflect on this. For context, he’s a game streamer for over a decade now. He’s been working for years on a feature film adaptation for Iron Lung, got stuck in “post-production hell” for a while. But it has finally premiered, going to theaters in January.

You can skip to 1:47 for the emotions, at least get to 5:10 to see most of the waterworks. I’m not sharing this to say, “Look, he’s crying.” I’m demonstrating how important this moment is to all of us artists. What we yearn for.

We want to be validated. To be loved. To be appreciated.

Trust that that is all possible. Ideally, firstly, in your personal life. But along with that, in the work you make too. Yes, make stuff for yourself. But art is meant to be shared.

A different kind of newsletter, as I write this on December 31st. But I know artists get so down on themselves. And if I’m going to do more art, I need to face these feelings head-on anyway.

Happy New Year, and keep showing up. Eventually, someone will show up for you.