The Bragging Rights of Artists in an Age of Social Media Braggadocio (Painturian, no. 38)

YOU HAVE TO GET used to it. You know, the bragging by artists on the Internet: boasting about their latest award, latest jury acceptance, number of followers, latest “master” title in the art guild, or latest painting—especially if they tell you they did it in just 30 minutes! Painterly virtuosity matters.

Of recent note, an artist posted on Instagram a picture of the famous Beatle Paul McCartney holding the artist’s painting (sold!), though the tiny caption is about the perils of shipping art overseas. Another superb painter posted a bold placard—“32K Followers”—with a miniscule caption saying thank you. Advertising matters, too.

Bragging rights arise in all competitive professions, especially if you have paid your dues, gotten there “up by the bootstraps.” If you don’t brag, no one else is going to do it for you. Indeed, if you don’t brag it may suggest a loss of nerve or self-loathing. Fortunately, there is always a sizable group of followers who will cheer on the swagger.

When the boxer Mohammed Ali declared “I am the greatest!”, the world rushed to affirm the monumental claim, made jumping up and down before TV cameras.

Although braggers can be annoying, let’s look at some of the altruism or benefits involved. First, those who encourage it with, “wow, congratulations,” the motive is out of love, friendship, and encouragement to the person who just gloated. Another positive aspect is marketing. What brand does not claim to be better than all others; it is so common, that it is embraced as a kind of humor (since who can say which is the truly “best” box of cornflakes or dishwasher soap).

I notice that many of the artist-braggers preface their frequent announcements of prizes, sales, or honors with “I am humbled to report.” Everyone is capable of true humility when fame is showered upon them, and there is no reason to doubt the “I am humbled” part. Still, it is braggadocio.

Art, more than many professions, is by nature exhibitionist, and many artists—especially in the “performance art” mode—embrace it with abandon. It’s part of the art scene. Over the centuries there has been much written about the good or generous character of artists, and painters in particular. Very little—if none—has been said about artist public humility, although plenty of painters do practice a sincere indifference to acknowledgement of their skill and talent.

In the older schools of art training, pre-1960s, the trend was for art instructors to browbeat, even demean, the students to toughen them up for the competitive fields. Stories are legion of instructors tearing up drawings, or slashing paint across student artworks, to suggest that mediocrity is not to be accepted.

We have entered gentler times, abetted especially by the Internet. It is well known now that the human brain becomes addicted to the immediate rewards of being “followed,” or getting that “WOW” comment on the latest Twitter or Instagram post. One recent painting post drew responses like “incredibly awesome” and “I was in tears.” A morale builder, for sure. In all, bragging and wowing on the Internet—it is still awkward an untoward to do so in public—is our modern form of celebration.

So, what is a painter to do? And for the art scene, what is to be done? Well, probably nothing, since we live in an age of braggadocio. There’s no benefit at all to be self-effacing. If you are, God may reward you, but in earthly terms nobody will know you are there, slaving away at your artistic calling.

I once met an art professor, a superb draftsman who had chosen the path of abstract painting; painting that was very good, interesting to a wide audience. Yet he attributed his lack of market, or art magazine success, to not having the character to “shamelessly self-promote” himself. In that conversation, we referenced the artist Jeff Koons, perhaps one of this generation’s most infamous self-promoters (making pornographic posters of he and his wife, an Italian porn star, before moving on to art for families and children). With fame from the former, Koons gained more fame and wealth with the latter. Shameless, but undoubtedly successful.

At present, we know that social media is addictive to both posters and viewers. Psycho-social studies have proved this addictive effect. The folks who own and run the big social media platforms know this well enough, and use it to their advantage. Yet as every expert admits, “Social media is here to stay.”

Every painter has to reach down inside and determine how much chutzpah there is to be had. While dining with a couple of painters at a plein air event, I was foolish enough to say that a particular regional painter—active on Instagram—was a showoff, telling us how fast he painted everything. My dinner mate said, “Yes, but we’re all showoffs, aren’t we?” I was put in my place.

In an age when braggadocio—and marketing and attention getting—always pays off, there’s little choice for the painter, if he or she can acclimated to the pros and cons of self-aggrandizement. As they say, “If you can’t beat them, join them!”

And as a matter of self-disclosure, I too have a website, a blog, and four social media accounts. As one media scholar has noted, this has all degenerated into just “shouting for attention.” And so, I also heed the maxim, “Be careful what you say,” especially if it trespasses into the braggadocio zone.

larrywithamfineart@gmail.com