When an Artist's Success is Measured by Optics

The other day I was in a conversation with someone who kept repeating that being a successful artist “Is all about business.” They then spoke at length about what a “successful artist and art business” looks like. In their mind, that meant paying thousands of dollars for a booth at big art fairs, standing in the spotlight, and aligning yourself with galleries or institutions that the public recognizes.

On the surface this kind of visibility looks impressive. A big tent, a glossy show, a name on the wall. But anyone who has been behind the scenes knows the truth. Many artists lose money at these events. Booths can cost anywhere from five hundred dollars to twenty thousand dollars. They pour their energy, their savings, and their hope into “looking” successful, even when the numbers do not add up.

Galleries can be valuable partners and I appreciate what they bring to the table, but their hard costs need to be considered as well. A standard commission is fifty percent, and representation often comes with no compete clauses that prevent you from working with other galleries in a large region. This raises important questions. Can you raise your prices high enough to cover the cut and still sell comfortably? Will your sales drop off at the higher rate? If you take home the same amount but sell half the volume, is that a fair exchange for representation?

There is also the reality of vanity galleries, often called pay to play. On the surface they can make it look like you landed a prestigious show, but in truth you are paying large fees simply for wall space. These events and galleries are designed around optics rather than sales. They can create the appearance of success to outsiders while leaving the artist with little or no return. For someone who measures success by how things look, a vanity gallery might seem impressive. For the artist who has to carry the costs, the reality is often very different.

Meanwhile I think of my friend who quietly grosses over one hundred thousand dollars a year in painting sales through her website. No big shows. No giant tents. No flashy optics. Just steady and sustainable income with a deep connection to her collectors. In the eyes of someone who measures success by visibility alone she might be invisible. But in reality she is thriving.

It reminded me of something else. People are often quick to flatten others into the smallest most visible box. I know artists who teach, who paint weddings, who run sold out classes, who sell in galleries, and who animate corporate events. Yet if you happen to meet them in another role, whether working retail, serving coffee, or freelancing on the side, that whole world of success becomes invisible. They are seen only through the narrowest lens of what is right in front of them.

To me, true success is not about optics. It is about resilience. It is about finding a path that actually sustains you financially, emotionally, and creatively. Sometimes that is loud and public. Just as often it is quiet and steady, woven into lives that may not look like success from the outside.

And perhaps that is the deeper truth. If your definition of success excludes entire groups of thriving artists such as autistic artists, disabled artists, introverts, or those who choose quieter avenues, then it may be the definition itself that is too small.