Originally published on 9/2/2022

An artist I know recently offered a painting for sale on Instagram. The caption said, “For a limited time only, 30% off.”

What do you think when you see an offer like that? Do you think, oh, art on sale! Yay! I was hoping to find a bargain on some art today and here it is. If you do, does that mean you purchase art according to price?

Do you think the more it costs, the higher the quality?

I’ve taught business skills to artists for a few years now. Something is weird between artists and money. Almost all the artists I have met so far don’t know how to price their work. What’s more, a surprising number don’t want to talk about it! They like money, that’s not the problem. They would like to receive money for doing what they love, they are clear on that score. But anything to do with setting prices, asking for compensation, communicating payment policies, writing contracts—all that is scary off-limits don’t-go-there territory.

Artists hold many unhelpful assumptions about art and money.

Artists assume that buyers will buy more if the artist reduces the price of the art. Discounts, coupons, special sales . . . we as consumers are trained to respond to price incentives. It works on cars, clothes, and corn! Why not on art?

What does price even mean when it’s art being offered for sale instead of a can of corn or a vacuum cleaner? As a buyer of discounted art, do you care that the artist is covering the cost of making the art? (I can tell you most artists have only a hazy idea of what went into their most recent work of art). Do you care that the artist is receiving a living wage for their art-making time? (Most artists make pennies per hour.) Do you care that when a painting resells at auction or through a gallery, the (still living) artist in most cases receives nothing, even if the painting sold for $20 million?

Artists assume that as they raise their prices, buyers will buy less. If we’ve trained our buyers to focus on price, this is probably true. Do you really want to serve buyers who purchase your art only because it is cheap? What will you do when they tell all their friends about this great source of cheap art? Wouldn’t you rather serve buyers who appreciate your art because it is wonderful? Not all buyers care about getting good deals, especially not on a unique, emotional product such as artwork.

I try to simplify things so I can understand them. I have an artist’s brain, which means my brain balks at the idea of pricing my own work. To help me out, I simplified the artist’s pricing strategy choices to two main options: we can either sell gravel or we can sell diamonds.

Here are some characteristics of each strategy:

Gravel

Your art is plentiful and everywhere
You sell prints, cards, objects
You focus on sales volume
You offer sales incentives, coupons, discounts
You give away things for free to motivate buyer action
You underprice your competition
You train the buyer to respond to price

Diamonds

Your art is rare and exclusive
You make few pieces
You set the price high
You never lower your price
You focus on reputation
You focus on exclusivity and quality
You do not compete on price
You do not use price as a motivator

I believe it is possible to make art to order without losing one’s mind, although I have not managed to accomplish that feat. I know it is possible to make only the art that makes one happy, whether anyone else wants to buy it or not. That path leads to interesting places, some not so pleasant.

Beyond the end of the continuum, if there is such a place, there lies the attitude that art is simply a product, a thing that people shop for, order, compare with other things, and purchase (or not) much the same way they buy cans of corn and vacuum cleaners. In other words, a commodity. I guess it is possible for canned corn can design to be esthetically pleasing. Likewise, I am sure vacuum cleaner designers put a lot of thought into the line, color, and shape of their machines. Function wins out. A vacuum cleaner that looks fabulous but fails to suck isn’t a vacuum cleaner, is it? It’s more like performance art, or even conceptual art, if you can convince a viewer the machine is there, it just happens to be invisible at the moment.

My brain is shutting down now. I am realizing that my entire argument depends on how we define art, and I cannot wrap my brain around that task, not today, probably not ever. I’ve tried and failed multiple times. Art is what we say it is. If a buyer is willing to pay $18,000 for a certificate of ownership for an artwork that does not exist, then clearly there is way more wiggle room than I can cover in this dinky blogpost.