Honest About Freelancing

Reading Emily Speed’s last couple of blog posts made me think about why freelance writers are often as broke (and bad with money) as artists.

I agree it’s about all of those 5 points that Emily mentions – ignoring money, doing the bare minimum, low rates, bad clients, and spiralling expenses – as well as being about magazines paying peanuts. This confirms that we not only need to get savvy about money, but that we also must communicate more truthfully between ourselves about finances, as artists, writers and creative people. We’re all in the same boat here.

I have an additional problem (or challenge, if I’m going to frame it positively) right now. I’m from the UK, but am living for a year in Philadelphia, USA, in order to have a proper relationship (less air travel, more hugs) with my lovely partner, Mike. I’m doing unpaid training at a fantastic gallery on a J-1 visa that prohibits me from working in the conventional “dayjob” sense. I’m lucky in that I’m living here with my American boyfriend, with financial support from his and my family, my writing work, and my massive overdraft. (Let’s be honest: partner/family support is the way most freelancers and artists get by to begin with, no? If and when we achieve success, this kindness usually gets edited out of the story of grit, business-sense and buckets of determination.)

This shamefully dependent position gives me a slightly different perspective on unpaid work. If I’m to work at all in this country – to meet people/network, to gain valuable experience, to prove myself, to keep my skills sharp, to pave the way for a future here – I must accept that upfront financial gain won’t be part of it. I’m glad that I love teaching workshops, meeting artists, and crafting articles for the sake of it. My teaching and writing skills have opened Philadelphia to me in a way that would have been much more difficult if I wasn’t willing to share my abilities. My unpaid activities so far have included lecturing to MFA students at the city’s University of the Arts and writing for a local blog run by two very influential women. I understand what a privileged position I’m in for this 12 month period (June 2011-June 2012), but rather than whining about it, I’m going to absolutely make the most of it.

While I’m here, though, my main aim is to grow my writing business in order to regain my independence – both freelance for magazines, and for individual artist and gallery clients. Given all of the unpaid work I’m doing, I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll focus more on the paid writing side of things next time, but wanted to be truthful about my (not so unusual) current circumstances.

Anyone identify with my position?

Thought I’d flag up the current Rant on Axis’ website.

It’s called Critical Distance, and points out that art reviews are often too harsh, poking fun for the sake of it, or conversely too generously flattering, or too fluffy and descriptive. I tried to answer honestly some of ranter Josie Faure Walker’s points from my experience as a freelance writer in the article comments section…

http://www.axisweb.org/dlForum.aspx?ESSAYID=18166

In my own art reviewing, I probably err on the side of positivity and generosity (making art is hard, and I admire anyone who doesn’t give up) unless I see a big ethical, institutional or art historical error – in which case I will dive in with the judgement. I was, in fact, censored for my negative views on the historically inaccurate curation of Tate Modern’s 2007 Louise Bourgeois retrospective, as the new, online magazine that commissioned the piece wanted to attract advertising from said museum. As I was a very fresh, young thing back then, I complied, producing instead a rather inane descriptive piece that at one point used the word “magical” (puke).

Truthfully, I’m not sure what I’d do now if asked to significantly change a magazine piece for purposes of commercial diplomacy. It hasn’t happened again, in part because I tend now to accompany any negative comments with an attempt to understand why the show’s perceived blunders happened, what the curators or artists were perhaps trying to achieve.

But I do try to stir other people to consider the importance of making room for the negatives when writing on art. i teach (paid and unpaid) workshops on critical writing, where I never fail to tell my censorship tale, following it up with a discussion on how better to frame such criticism so that it survives the editorial cut. i also reassure them with the story that, once, a curator actually asked me to be critical. (Shock, horror!) I had the good fortune of meeting Gavin Delahunty, then curator at mima, Middlesbrough, now working for Tate, Liverpool, for a coffee and a chat about queer studies, Rosalind Krauss and his brilliant curatorial project A Certain Distance, Endless Light. Delahunty used to teach critical writing himself, and bemoaned the lack of meaty, incisive reviews. He cited Krauss (and I agree) as someone who didn’t care about pleasing museums and curators, and therefore had the balls intellectually to rip a show to shreds if necessary.

I adored A Certain Distance, Endless Light as it resonated with many of my art historical interests. But – wanting to impress Gavin – I decided to note down negatives where i could. This is perhaps a less intuitive way to flatter a curator, than with generous commentary! I found a few bad points, deeming some of the installation decisions poor, and finding the premise of the umbrella A/V festival rather woolly. It was a great feeling, to have permission to be negative, and the result, I feel, is one of my best pieces of writing.

You can read it here:

http://whitehotmagazine.com/articles/gonzalez-torr…

I’m pretty nervous about writing on the topics outlined in my blog intro. But as a young creative, struggling to make a living as a freelance art writer, I know how easy it is to peruse the sparkling, clean-lined sites and portfolios of other arts professionals, becoming more and more anxious about not making the grade.

What I would like to offer here is an alternative to the aspirational – and, sometimes, false – discourse of successful creative self-employment that, in the past, I admit I’ve contributed to.

I don’t yet pay my rent with art writing, but I hope and plan to get there. This blog will document that process, while also tackling issues, such as:

– prevalent low rates of pay in the arts, and where I’ve found fair pay

– the problems and conflicts I encounter (usually without naming names) as I grow my business

– good and bad contracts, and developing my own system of contracts

– pitches that got turned down, marketing efforts that failed, and an analysis of why

– how long it actually takes to write a piece, how much it costs me to write (financially, mentally), and how much I charge

– the emotional highs and lows of writing and business-running

– networking attempts

It’s a scary thought that I’ll have to be honest about such things. In the past, I’ve picked up the idea (from the ether, from the internet?) that one should project an aura of success in order to attract it. Now, I feel, it would be more beneficial, for myself and for you, if I just told the truth about how hard every step really is, and thought critically about whether it’s worth it.

Hope you’ll be intrigued enough to continue reading…