Google Chrome Exposure Tarnished by Brand Names

A few months ago I wrote a post lambasting Google for soliciting artist work without financial compensation.  The situation, to recap, was that Google approached well-known illustrators to design nifty new artist skins for the Google Chrome browser.  The catch: Google offered to compensate the artists with only exposure.  In my mind, the offense was as follows:

Google chose artists because they were highly-recognizable and then was unwilling to financially compensate them what Google obviously is aware that they are worth. In so doing, Google sent the message that artists, no matter how successful, are not worth paying.  Thus, the undervaluing of the arts (against which artists constantly struggle) was publicly perpetuated by a wealthy company that could have afforded to pay for artists' work.

A few weeks ago the new Google Chrome skins launched--and the result is underwhelming at best.  Google apparently regards all its "Artists" as brands--and vice-versa--and assembled a page featuring everything from sports cars to architects, from haute couture to hip-hop bands.  The Artist Themes library reads like an advertising pull-out in a magazine: smaller, niche artists vie for attention against the top-billed Porsche, American Apparel,  Mariah Carey, in addition to other such easily-recognized names as Donna Karan, Marc Ecko, Wes Craven, Ocean Pacific and Candies (among others).  Each theme is presented with a button navigating to a one- or two-sentence blurb about the artist/brand/company (including, in many cases, a link to the artist's store where the user can purchase products)  and most of the skins feature a brand logo somewhere in the skin itself.  Artists who are less commercial and have less name-recognition are lost in the shadow of the BIGBRANDNAMES. So what exposure, exactly, is Google offering its skin-designing artists whose names don't ring an immediate bell with the General Public?  I hope that they are receiving more interest from people who might not otherwise have known their art, and ultimately generating more sales and commissioned work.  I hope that they find they are growing their audience and that people unfamiliar with their work before Google Chrome now are interested in what the artist is producing.

In truth, however, I suspect that one of two things is happening:  they are overshadowed by the highly-recognizable brands, or reach an audience that was already aware of their work.  If Google had not piled these artists into a motley assortment of brands, designers, products, and artists, I believe that those artists with more specialized popularity would have received greater exposure, and thereby reached a broader audience of new followers and potential financial supporters for their work.  (Though of course, I may be erroneously assuming that these artists WANT to add new fans to their audience--perhaps they don't.)

Operating under the assumption that each designer wants to increase site traffic and popularity, reaching Chrome users who might have otherwise been unfamiliar with their work, I would recommend that Google redesign the Themes page.  Arranging the contributors in alphabetical order, for a start, would give a sense of order and artist equity.  To take it one step further, I think that calling the page an "Artist Gallery" is a misnomer, and Google would have done better to segment its collection of skins into tabs like "Music," "Fashion," etc, thereby bringing more attention to each skin--and reach people who may be more interested in certain artistic genres.  Additionally, Google could have routed skin downloads through the artists' bio page by default, truly offering the opportunity to generate traffic to the individual (or company) site.

I am interested to know about the arrangement between companies such as Porsche and Google--were there really no financial negotiations?  Did the designer of the skin get paid by Porsche, instead?  I reached out to a couple of the participating artists to learn about their experience working with Google, and whether or not Google ended up financially compensating them after all--but at this time none has responded.  So, Chrome Theme designers, if you read this I'd love to have you weigh in on the matter.

And, as always, I encourage anyone reading to share your thoughts.

Technology as the Art

“Molotov Alva and His Search for the Creator,” by Douglas Gayeton, a film made using machinima. Technology and the Arts...it's what we focus on in this blog, on this website, and in our offices. Dictionary.com defines technology first as "the branch of knowledge that deals with the creation and use of technical means and their interrelation with life, society, and the environment, drawing upon such subjects as industrial arts, engineering, applied science, and pure science."

Today, however, I would like to liberate “technology” from its seemingly ubiquitous linkage with other, more concrete and easily definable terms, and examine technology as art.   Technology is about creation, it is creative in its very definition, though it is too often regarded by artist-types as out of our realm of right-brained comprehension. This may be the reason that we consider art and technology, as if those two elements naturally remain separate.  When the first maths-based technology was utilized to create visual imagery, the products were considered not art because they were so often created by scientists.  (That relationship is explored in this piece by Lewis Dartnell.)  In this day and age, however, it is evident that technology can, in fact, be the medium in which the art is created. It can be the palette, the orchestra, the voice, the film.

It is a difficult distinction to make: at what point do we consider technology as an artistic medium?  Eight-track is a technology.  As is infrared film.   For our purposes I will be considering technology as digital, computerized.   I am interested to hear thoughts, because it can be a very difficult determination to make--at what point does technology actually comprise the art rather than merely facilitate it?  Is this a distinction that needs to be made? Is technology ever truly a medium, and if so, does the technology we discuss here necessarily happen with computers? And if so, does the art need to happen on a coding level to be considered created in the medium of technology? If the art can be created without a computer (for example, audio reel-to-reel), can we classify it as relying on (our definition of) technology?

So, without further ado, a few examples of what I would consider technology as the medium in which the below art is produced. (Additionally, the piece at the top of this post.)

There’s digital rotoscoping, mainstreamed in the 2006 feature film ”A Scanner Darkly," which combines digital filmmaking with a computerized version of traditional rotoscoping.

The Rhizome "Tiny Sketch" competition set a 200-character limit for coding to design tiny sketches. This is not unusual, and there are countless areas where code is used to create visual art. It is more clearly obvious in many cases, but is also easily taken for granted with continued computer usage, as it is code that gives us the graphics that we see as computer users.

Toplap, a musical group that performs live by writing code in real-time to produce music. (Video courtesy of the BBC on YouTube.)

Virtual composer Emily Howell, an independently-creating creation of David Cope's.

Watch Information Hunter Gatherer @ Electric Art in Entertainment Videos |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com “Information Hunter Gatherer” by Stephen Belovarich

Prepare ye the way for the digital season brochure

The season brochure, that bastion of quadruple-proofed specialty paper that brings in a cache of new subscribers every year, has officially gone digital. And not just a PDF with an embedded link to the box office page. Oh no. With sound clips. And conductor interviews. As you may have gathered, I was recently delighted to discover London Symphony Orchestra's online season brochure. When I first saw it, it struck me that this is probably what symphony orchestras have dreamed of doing since the inception of the season brochure—that in the first season brochure meeting, the marketers were essentially thinking, “how can we put the experience of our symphony on paper?”

Here it is—not on paper. And with all the interactivity that an orchestra marketer dreams about.

It’s sleek, wonderfully interactive and will certainly grab the reader’s attention… but will it sell tickets? That’s the new question marketers must ask themselves with every shiny new social media tool that comes along. An online season brochure is something a customer must seek out on the organization website. (Isn’t getting them there half the battle anyway?) The traditional season brochure comes to them through the carefully orchestrated efforts of the marketing department. So, which version will result in more ticket sales? And more importantly, will the time and effort spent on the digital brochure be worth it?

So here's a funny question to ask on a technology blog: Is direct mail dying? There's more and more evidence that it's not. When I began my career in arts marketing, I thought this was a rhetorical question; my initial impulse was to say yes, letters, postcards, etc. are going the way of the newspaper. But I quickly learned the usefulness of direct mail: the spike in season ticket sales after the renewal mailing went out, the power of a reminder postcard for “pick 3” subscribers, and more. People still respond to direct mail, at least, arts patrons do. Maybe they just like the feel of the specialty paper. But maybe it’s something more.

In this technology-driven multitasking world, it all comes down to one question: What will keep our patrons' attention?

Many arts orgs still send renewals/season brochures through the mail, as they have for years. Arts marketers have conditioned them to expect a thick packet or glossy pamphlet in the early part of the year with an incentive deadline. But what if we changed that? If we sent an email directing them online to look at a brochure and/or renew online, would it be as successful? I would think not. They won't have a context for it, and so many of those emails won't be read.

According to The Non-Profit Times, if a non-profit arts org sends an email, it very optimistically has a 20% chance of being opened. Maybe 5% of total recipients will actually click through to see your wonderful interactive creation. (These stats are older, so if it follows the current trend, we can safely assume it will be lower.) Or, to put it from one individual's perspective, here’s how it works in my inbox: the message enters the daily deluge of emails that I may or may not tag to read. If I have time within the first day I receive it, I read it; otherwise, it slowly makes its way to the netherworld of "older" emails in the inbox, never to be heard from again. I find myself becoming increasingly immune to email appeals, and it seems to be proportionate to the number and length of emails sent by the organization. Same thing with social media "white-noise"--the more I have to read, the less I want to read.

On the other hand, if the arts org sends a renewal packet or season brochure in the mail, the situation is different. If they have been a subscriber for a while, they know what it is and what to do. The single-ticket buyer or first-year subscriber might think the brochure looks interesting and they'll read it or put it in the mail pile. The difference is, people eventually go through their mail pile, and will probably do so sooner than cleaning out their inbox, when the brochure is still somewhat relevant. Furthermore, so many commercial organizations have gone paperless that, at least for me, it's a treat to get something in the mail that's not a bill, especially if it's cool and artsy-looking. I'm less likely to throw it in the trash.

Bottom line: A paper brochure is something that sticks around. Something that a single ticket buyer can grab at the theatre to see what's coming up. Something arts marketers can hand out at arts fairs to people who don't even know the organization exists. It is for these reasons that I believe that the season brochure will not go completely paperless for a very long time.

Feedback, please! I’m interested to hear your experiences with online brochures and renewals.

(sidenote: Sophie, the online multimedia book publishing software featured at the National Summit for Arts Journalism Friday, releases version 2.0 next Thursday. It might be a tool worth looking in for those considering creating a digital season brochure. There are also several videos of other interesting mergings of technology and arts journalism/publishing on the summit's website.)

Filtering for Information: The Value in Streamlining Online Presence

We talk a lot about online identity and managing the way in which the world receives you. But what about the way that you receive the world? Establishing and fostering connections and relationships necessitates that channels of information and communication be open. Once you open the door a little, however, the information that once trickled through can quickly become a deluge.

The ideal online presence develops awareness and support for your organization.  You can communicate with people near and far, and hope to transfer your online relationships into strong real-world bonds.  You want a blog that incites conversation and commentary, a Twitter or Facebook following that generates real-life audience, and virtual relationships that are mutually beneficial, creatively stimulating, and further your organization's mission. While building a substantive online presence, however, you may accumulate a lot of clutter that impedes your efforts (and not even realize it). I was surprised to find myself in this position. Once invigorated, I was suddenly overwhelmed by my virtual life. Useful information was lost among irrelevant chatter, and I had unconsciously begun tuning out everything. I went from eager and active online to quiet and uninvolved; I unconsciously stopped acknowledging Twitter or RSS notifications on my cell phone, filed away more newsletters than I read, and was a member of myriad services and sites that I had tested out, found unhelpful or redundant, and abandoned--without cancelling membership.

If you find yourself growing sluggish and disenchanted with your organization's social networking and online communication presence, consider some of the elements that I used to structure my interaction overhaul.

Contacts: Whose input do you value? How do you know this person--virtually or personally, in a business context or as a friend? Do you receive regular updates from them, and are these updates useful? Do they receive regular updates from you, and if so, do they engage? It's ok to set some people free, but do use caution so as to avoid offending anyone.

Social Networking Accounts: Do you use only the accounts on which you are registered? Do you have profiles that are inactive that you should delete? Do you have multiple profiles on the same site (e.g. your organization's Twitter and your personal Twitter)? If so, do you make careful distinction between the two in your interactions, and do you separate your contacts accordingly? Do you remain engaged equally on each, or do you swing between letting your organization account fall silent as you become more chatty on your personal account, and vice versa? If you do not have separate profiles and accounts, are you losing important information among your friends' weekend updates and baby pictures?

Email and Reader: How much spam do you receive at the email account you use for your organization? How many "relevant" newsletters, updates, etc. do you receive but never read? Do you have folders for different subjects, contacts, organizations, and so forth? Do you have a "get-to-it-later" folder that you never get to? Does your reader have dozens of feeds in it, of which you actually read only a fraction? Is there a chance that you will miss something important by deleting some of these feeds? Where do you find your most useful information, and what is making that process most difficult?

It was a surprisingly difficult task, and one on which I am still working, but it has made me feel like my online activity is more streamlined and efficient, my attention is more focused, and the information I now receive through these channels is proportionately more relevant and applicable than before. It is worth remembering that your online activities are an extension of your offline activities, and just as valuable to manage and streamline.

Why Net Neutrality is an Arts Advocacy Issue

I teach a course on “Cultural Policy and Advocacy in the US” each spring for CMU’s Master of Arts Management program.  As I begin prepping for the upcoming spring semester, I find it intriguing that the issue of “net neutrality” has not gained much buzz within the arts advocacy community.  So let’s take a look at what net neutrality is and how the issue of net neutrality impacts the arts. So what is net neutrality?  Here’s a brief breakdown of the issue from Public Knowledge, a Washington DC based public interest group working to defend the public’s rights in the emerging digital culture:

Okay, but why should arts advocates care about net neutrality?

In the last decade, we have seen an explosion in the use of the Internet to create art, promote the arts, advocate for the arts, build community through the arts, and more.  Our sector’s ability to participate in the Web 2.0 cultural shift is due in large part to our ability to access any tool hosted on the Internet with the same ease as any other Web user.  Here are just a few examples of how this neutral access has fostered evolution within the arts community :

• Artists have been able to choose from a wide array of online tools for distributing their work and reaching new audiences.
• Artists have explored the use of the Internet as an artistic medium resulting in the genre of art known as net art.
• Artists and arts organizations have leveraged the use of social media and social networking to further engage audiences before, during and after traditional performances and exhibitions.

Let’s say for example that a theatre company pays Comcast for access to the Internet.  The theatre also has a nonprofit channel on YouTube where they post video interviews with playwrights, directors, actors, designers, etc.  The theatre has successfully used these videos as promotional tools to raise interest in upcoming productions.  What happens if Comcast decides to prohibit the theatre from accessing YouTube because Comcast is launching a video sharing site that competes directly with YouTube?  Suddenly, your Internet Service Provider (ISP) is determining which online tools you may or may not use to pursue your arts organization’s goals and mission.

Does the idea that your Internet Service Provider would prohibit you from accessing certain sites sound preposterous?  It’s not.  On September 21, FCC Chaiman Julius Genachowski presented a speech at the Brookings Institute in which he states, “We have witnessed certain broadband providers unilaterally block access to VoIP applications (phone calls delivered over data networks) and implement technical measures that degrade the performance of peer-to-peer software distributing lawful content. We have even seen at least one service provider deny users access to political content.”

During last month’s National Alliance for Media Arts and Culture (NAMAC) conference, Craig Aaron from Free Press laid it out on the line for the audience, “[The federal government is] going to decide whether or not the Internet remains public and free.”  Does that sound alarmist?  It’s not.

In yesterday’s speech, Genachowski went on to state, “While my goals are clear -- to ensure the Internet remains a free and open platform that promotes innovation, investment, competition, and users’ interests -- our path to implementing them is not pre-determined. I will ensure that the rulemaking process will be fair, transparent, fact-based, and data-driven. Anyone will be able to participate in this process, and I hope everyone will. We will hold a number of public workshops and, of course, use the Internet and other new media tools to facilitate participation. Today we’ve launched a new website, www.openinternet.gov, to kick off discussion of the issues I’ve been talking about. We encourage everyone to visit the site and contribute to the process.”

While this is a wonderful step towards ensuring net neutrality for the United States, we would be foolish to believe that the results of this process are a given.  A stunning statistic that Craig Aaron shared with the NAMAC conference last month is that the telecommunications field currently has 500 lobbyists in Washington, DC.  That is nearly one lobbyist for each member of the House and Senate.  You better believe that those 500 lobbyists are advocating for FCC policies that will allow their telecommunications employers to gain more financially advantageous control of the Internet and consumer usage.

The number of net neutrality lobbyists in Washington, DC is very minor in comparison to the army of 500 telecommunications lobbyists.  That’s why it is so important for us to join the national discussion regarding this issue and add it to our list of arts advocacy priorities.

Here are some easy things you can do today to help ensure net neutrality within the United States:

1. Send a brief message to your Congressional representative asking them to support the Internet Freedom Preservation Act of 2009 (H.R. 3458).
2. Contact Americans for the Arts and encourage them to add a net neutrality issue brief to the Congressional Arts Handbook that will be distributed during the 2010 Arts Advocacy Day event.
3. Engage in the public discussion on www.openinternet.gov.

Why Art? Because it's Not Only For "Us."

Tim Mikulski grabbed my attention the other day with his ARTSBLOG post, asking, "[A]s our public debt deepens and we start to see the proverbial writing on the wall, what is that new argument for funding arts organizations and programs?" Amidst cautious optimism (!?) about economic upturn, We In The Arts are still reading horror stories about everyone from universities to public elementary schools cutting arts funding. Newly-appointed NEA Chairman Rocco Landesman's opinions are already sparking debate, and there have been some thoughtful reactions from opponents, as well as others that send shivers down my spine.

So Mikulski's question is more important than ever. We In The Arts like to say that "the Arts are always the first to go!" and "the Arts are considered fluff!" and "imagine a world without us!" Jan Selman, of Arts Leadership League of Georgia, responds to Mikulski: "I do not debate from a victim mode. I believe that our industry is as viable and important as any other industry." What a brilliant point! In other words, we doth protest too much. And in so doing, lend credibility to those who DO approach the Arts from the very stance we are so convinced "always" result in the Arts getting the axe.

We cannot allow ourselves to play the victim, as much as we may perceive ourselves at the whim of Others Who Don't Understand.

I suggest, as difficult as this may be for many, to remember, for a moment, that Art is not just a tool of the Left.  When arguing on behalf of the Arts, I argue for the right for all Artists to be taken seriously. (No, I'm not saying that I think all "Art" is "Good," but We In The Arts are not only those Bohemian Lefties that Landesman and Laura Collins-Hughes on ARTSJOURNAL's blog, agree are perceived as "a little gay.")

Yes, there is Art that is "obscene" or "offensive" to conservatives, and there is at least some art that is offensive to "the typically outraged" liberals. (And as for the Obama in Joker Whiteface poster, I take this argument to the conclusion that any artist who wants to make a provocative statement should at least take responsibility--or credit?--for it, and engender dialogue.)

Historically, Art has caused outrage as it  evolves with (and sometimes spurs the evolution of) its society.   I say, more power to Artists who question our world, even if they argue against what I believe, as long as they stand behind their work.  There is something refreshing about my getting enraged because a well-done piece argues so passionately for something that I think is wrong.

And so, when I argue to preserve funding for arts organizations and programs, I have something new to say.  I will no longer play the victim.  I will say, because Art gives people another way to communicate, and can spread messages across the boundaries of beliefs.  Art is a different way to dialogue and discuss--it is subjective, it is not RIGHT or WRONG.

Art isn't only the product of the crazy gay liberals.  It can be the product of insane heterosexual conservatives as well.  And everyone in between.

One Route, Two Guides — Part 2: Marc van Bree's "Orchestras and New Media"

Marc van Bree has published an impressive and free forty-five page (plus bibliography and succinct glossary) ebook called "Orchestras and New Media: A Complete Guide".  I emphatically encourage anyone working with arts and non-profits to read his ebook. Though van Bree's experience is specifically with classical music and orchestras, his ebook is not for that audience alone. Rather, is the most comprehensive and interesting social media guide that I have read. Van Bree does not claim to be a social media expert, despite his long-time successful use of it, and his recommendations and guidelines for social media are supported by research and commentary from others in the field. He does not merely tell you what to do, he writes things like "How has social networking changed our communication?" and then answers this question with evidence from independent studies.

"Although the number and variety of arts organizations has increased, the percentage of adults participating in the arts has remained flat," writes van Bree.  The first 11 pages of this guide are a fascinating and well-researched analysis of the arts and the arts' representation in printed media, and the struggle that the arts face in generating new audiences.  With excerpts from a variety of studies, publications, others in the field, and projects, he establishes a context in which to place non-profit social media. "If blogs are an alternative to print media, podcasts are the alternative to radio and television."

Van Bree not only discusses the various forms that social media can take, his guide is part history lesson, part handbook, and completely engaging. He examines all of the major American players, from Facebook to Flickr, and suggests others that might be of use on an international platform. Van Bree also illustrates their use with true anecdotes that are at times cautionary, encouraging, amusing, and most of all show what is possible by NPO arts organizations using social media.

If you are new to social media, you may want a very basic, "Step One: Do This" approach--but I strongly recommend you take the time to read van Bree's guide. He does not neglect to explain the principles and common practices that users of the social media tools follow, and even discusses how you can measure the results of your efforts.

This guide has it all, is a pleasure to read, and paints a broader picture of what it is, exactly, that NPOs may accomplish with social media.

Hey, Choir, Listen Up!

Talking to Myself by FALHakaFalLin and Mlle Franny

I read a lot of blogs. Blogs about arts, marketing, non-profits, arts management, arts education, technology, and so forth. I read great posts on a weekly basis about selling tickets, working within the new economy, raising interest, and strategizing an online presence.

There is a glut of online advice, musings, guidelines, reflections, and discussions about organizations hopping onto the social media bandwagon and embracing Web 2.0. And I can't help but wonder: are we just preaching to the choir?

If you are on here reading this, I suspect that you are already, in some way, connected to this issue. You already browse the web, you probably already have a profile on at least one social media site. Your organization likely has a website, and, I venture to guess, you are already diligent about trying to keep that website presentable, navigable, and current.

You probably frequent the same sites that I do. Your RSS reader might even have a roundup of many similar resources. You are aware of the possibilities that Web 2.0 offers for the new connectivity of organizations. You want to engage people online AND in the real-world, and believe that by strengthening your online position you will experience a positive correlation in the strength of your real-world operations.

I recently read a post from a for-profit marketing perspective, iterating that when we establish our online presence what we want are a small group of strong, loyal supporters, rather than a large number of filler fans. The principle is that these informed, dedicated followers will spread the word personally to their friends, increasing the likelihood that their friends will take their recommendations seriously, and be more likely to check us out as a result.

But it seems to me that in this niche of arts organizations and technology, we are all following, and being followed by, each other. We talk to each other, echo one another's concerns, make suggestions, offer encouragement. We are the ones listening, we are the ones talking, and ultimately it begins to get a little schizophrenic.

I have come across some great bloggers (who are transparent in their affiliation with arts organizations) writing insightful, informative posts--but don't link to their organization's website and aren't linked from there. If an audience member does get online with the hope of learning more about an organization via its website, wouldn't the blog of its communications manager, or artistic director, or someone else on staff, be of interest to them?

If our audiences continue to be people who are unlikely to go online to seek out their arts information, who are comfortable with the ever-smaller blurbs in the papers and the mailings sent to their homes, why are we doing all of this work online? And if we are doing all this work online to find new audiences, but it isn't transferring to our organization's presence in the real world, something needs to change.

We are not going to bridge the chasm between the online and offline supporters if we keep telling people who are already doing what we think they should be doing (because it's what we are doing!) to do what we recommend everyone do.

I love that Project Audience exists precisely to address the best way for arts organizations to attract online media users who may be new to the arts, and to brainstorm ways to stop doing the same things repeatedly simply because it's what is comfortable, or understood, or widely accepted. Additionally, Joe Solomon guest-blogs on Beth's blog, asking the very important question: "How can your online community also support events in the real world?"

I hope that this daunting chasm is a misconception on my part, and that all of what we are saying to ourselves here is really making the leap to the real world, to ticket and art sales, to increased donations and support. I hope that people from outside are plugging in to get more information, and that dialogues are happening among artists and organizations and audiences as never before, facilitated, enabled, by Web 2.0.

But if it isn't a misconception, we need to be open to change and aggressively seek innovation to this model of organization/web interaction.

What You Do IS Worth Paying For, We Just Can't: Non-Profit Organizations and Artists - Part 2

Photo by Greg Andrews

Last week I wrote about the indignation I feel when I see a company like Google wanting to use art without financially compensating the artists. The post and ensuing discussion on Facebook generated some interesting feedback, and many people expressed the concern that perhaps artists have set the bar low themselves.

This got me thinking about how it is that artists begin accepting less than they are worth--and I think, unfortunately, it is because of the close collaboration that artists have with non-profit arts organizations. And this is much more difficult to get irate about. As I rail against Google for devaluing the work that artists do, I can't help but think back on the numerous non-profit arts organizations with which I have either been involved or encountered as an artist.

Non-profit organizations, those bastions of hope, those doers of good, whose belief in the arts propels us through the darkest hours of our economic crises, are they immune to the tirade I so readily unleashed on Google?

Here are a couple of scenarios that I have encountered in the last few years.

A small non-profit theater company hires non-Union designers, actors, and tech staff. Due to budget limitations, the theater pays each a scant stipend, which is realistically hardly more than the cost of gas to get to and from rehearsals and shows. The highest pay goes to designers and directors, the lowest to crew and cast.

A small non-profit gallery holds an open call for artists to be featured in a full-color, glossy catalogue that is then distributed (the gallery paying for postage) to 1000+ other institutions around the country, offering exposure for the artists at no cost to them. The artists whose works are featured do not receive a free copy of the book (they pay a mere $5 less for the publication than the general public). The argument is that their price is exactly the cost of publishing one book.

These two organizations have been around for a decade and just under a decade, respectively. Each is respected in its community and the directors of each organization have cut their own personal income as needed (going a year or more at a time without pay from the organization). Their personal sacrifices demonstrate their belief in the necessity of the arts. Their commitment to producing art trumps their desire to live a cushy life. But they ultimately cannot pay the artists a living wage.

Do NPOs perpetuate the undervaluing of art by expecting to have artists' collaboration without paying them What They Are Worth? Doubtless, if either of the above examples had the funds it would pay its artists more--but both organizations benefit, and arguably only exist because of, artists' willingness to work for little-to-nothing. Though there are actors, designers, painters, who choose not to work with the organization because of the financial sacrifice, there are enough others that the organizations continue to exist.

Obviously there is the striking difference between the net worth of Google and that of a small gallery, but the artists are still working for, ultimately, exposure. Perhaps they are not the heavy-hitting "professionals" like the illustrators that Google solicited, but nevertheless, a standard is being set.

Let us be realistic. Just as we, the underpaid in the arts world, raise our fists against the indignity of artists being asked for work without receiving pay, we are often the first to ask for favors from artists. Because we have no money, we do what we can (trade you free admission to our show, etc.), but maybe this is the crux of the issue.

Yes, artists have options. They can join unions (which may limit their opportunities to work) or decline jobs that don't pay what they feel they deserve. They can choose to do it "for the love of it" and hope that the future will be brighter, more lucrative, just around the bend. But should they have to choose?

I don't know what the answer is. I don't feel good about bringing my indignant wrath against non-profit organizations, the likes of which I have worked for, with, and on behalf of, my entire adult life. I feel that it is fair to say, with some notable exceptions, that those individuals who establish non-profits arts organizations, especially sacrificing their own creature comforts to do so, want the best for the artists and want to produce the best art.

But I have seen too many artists who work with such organizations get caught in the seemingly endless cycle of uncertain paychecks, needing to balance additional temporary jobs in an effort to make ends meet, essentially working two or more full-time jobs to enable them to do their art and fill their refrigerators (not to mention pay rent, etc.). That lifestyle can have a negative influence on the art and the artist, and can make an artist's sparkling potential sputter into mediocrity.

Without art there is silence. Without artists we have no stories, no history. When we talk about social media, about technological advancements, what we are really talking about are ways to communicate. We invest in the people who develop the newest, fastest way to transfer information among individuals. But we cannot forget that this is not the only way communication manifests. What about the people communicating in the same way that early man did in his cave paintings, in dances and performances, weavings and body decorations, storytelling and pottery? Art tells us about our history and our nature.

We are human not just because we can cure what ails us, not just because we can problem-solve or analyze or understand quantitative data. We are human because of those feats (artistic in their own right), certainly, but also, especially, because we can communicate through creations that may not be strictly, quantifiably "practical." Art can be healing, therapeutic, exciting, energizing. Art can make sense of the world or touch an individual. Artists create works that convey pain, sorrow, joy, fear, love, hate, anger, celebration. Artists can reach audiences they have never met with the power of their work.

Art makes us human. Non-profits arts organizations need to be able to employ artists at a rate that is livable. I understand that it is much more easily said than done. But we must demand this of ourselves, this should be the goal. We can be the example. Let those who can pay do so. Please. Art is not a luxury item.

What You Do Isn't Worth Paying For: The Message Google Sends to Illustrators - Part 1

Recently there has been some high-profile buzz about Google's latest endeavor to unite arts and their internet products by having Google Chrome skins designed by prominent illustrators. The catch? Google will pay the artists nothing, offering exposure instead.

Understandably, many illustrators are incensed by the "offer." Though last year's iGoogle artist theme design campaign was highly successful, according to Mark Frauenfelder (an iGoogle artist), in that instance Google donated a significant amount of money in his name to a charity of his choice. This year Google is soliciting prominent illustrators ("prominent" meaning that these are illustrators whose work is already recognized and commissioned by high-profile companies that both pay and provide great exposure) and offering them no compensation. I think this is a slap in the face to the arts world.

Some very good points are discussed by Stan Schroeder at Mashable and Douglas McLennan at Arts Journal. I recommend reading their thoughts about the online community's responsibility for devaluing artists' work, seeing this as an opportunity to encourage higher levels of craftmanship, and the value of a relatively unknown artist to gaining exposure and consequently future work that would pay.

I, however, would like to address two issues that I have when a situation such as this occurs. I will do so in this and a following post.

First of all, I posit that most people who identify themselves as artists wish to make a living producing art. They do not WANT to have a desk job to enable their work. They would, ideally, be able to support themselves by producing work in their medium of choice. I am not talking about the people who happily admit to being designers "on the side," or who create art "as a hobby" and are content so doing. I am not talking about the people who, unasked, flood the web with their work free of charge. I believe that people who IDENTIFY as artists want it to be their vocation, their profession, their primary source of income, and guard it closely, hoping always that someone else will value it equally (and in concrete dollars).

It is offensive that Google, a company whose first-quarter profits saw an 8% increase over last year's (to $1.42 billion, according to the New York Times), would specifically select artists because they are well-known and well-respected and offer to pay NOTHING. It would be a different story altogether had Google held an open call for submissions, explaining at the outset that there would be no pay for the chosen designs, and allowed illustrators to decide for themselves whether they wanted to participate. (Note: even the 12-year-old winner of "Doodle for Google" received a decent-sized award for her winning drawing.) But to carefully hand-pick prominent illustrators and ask that they be a part of the project in return for exposure, shows how little art is respected by big business (and is, in my opinion, condescending). The fact that Google is SELECTING them in the first place suggests that these are artists who no longer need exposure, are at the top of their field, and should be considered valuable enough to earn a standard rate for their work.

Google's new skins are akin to packaging an unexciting product in an appealing way, something that marketing experts get PAID to do. Google would expect to pay someone to spruce up its image. Despite the positive impact these artist skins would have on Google Chrome's marketability (Chrome doesn't make my short list of browser choices), Google doesn't believe that the illustrator's work is worth a financial investment.

And if Google, a company worth billions, isn't willing to pay for top-of-the-line illustrators, what good is exposure? (Not to mention the fact that Google Chrome is not necessarily the best way to reach these illustrators' potential clients, since it depends on an individual's interest in downloading the browser to start with.) If a company knows that an illustrator is willing to work for Google for nothing, why would it want to pay the illustrator?

When Google thinks art isn't worth paying for, it is little wonder that legislators across the country question the value of arts funding.

Incidentally, I considered that this may be Google's reaction to Bing's attractive "decision engine." I contacted the provider of the stock photography that is used by Bing in an attempt to find out if they get paid for Bing's use of photos. The response I got from Jonathan, a representative of Danita Delimont stock photography, wrote: "I'm glad you like our photographers' work! Microsoft does indeed license the images they display on the Bing home page. We applaud Microsoft's decision to provide copyright information for the photos they use on Bing."