Risk, Investment, Living

A message from my friend and former bandmate, Jeff Song:

Hi All,
Time to make myself unpopular...

Here are some provocative questions and comments to
the list (my own personal opinions, of course; and
most of this really isn't new to anyone, but for many
reasons this is currently up in my face).

But first a preamble (pre-ramble?), of sorts…
Do you work a day job to support your art? Does it
matter? I say it doesn't matter.
Some people say, "I don't make this music for a
living, so I don't care if I get financially
compensated for it." Wanna know something? Any venue
that doesn't make an investment (and thus shoulder
some risk) also doesn't care if you get compensated
for your art. In fact, they are quite content to know
that you are so dedicated to your art, that you will
do it for them for free; that you are so dedicated to
your art that you will shoulder 100% of the investment
and risk involved in performing in their venue.
So, some people don't "do their art for a living."
But I say, "If you live to do your art," it DOES
matter if you get compensated.

Risk and investment: these words will mean different
things to different people, especially within the
sphere of the performing arts. Basically, to me, if
there is no investment, there is no risk. Regarding
performing artists, I see "risk" as meaning, among
other things, the potential for the loss of money as
well as time and energy. If a venue has made a real
investment in the artist, then they also face the
potential risk of losing money if they can't recoup
expenses from customers. If a venue does not make an
investment in the artist, but is still able to
convince the artist to perform anyway, then the
artist's work has actually lost qualitative value in
the eyes of a venue – because the art is literally
"worthless" – but at the same time the art gains
financial value, because (to the venue) it is
risk-free. What long-term effect does this have on
the artist, when they so willing participate in the
devaluation of their own art?

Donations: Don't be fooled. The "pass the hat"
donation system used by so many venues is patently
unfair. This system reflects a true non-investment on
the part of the venue. This system of
non-compensation relies on the fact that the artist
alone shoulders 100% of the investment and 100% of the
risk. Venues that operate in this way make absolutely
no investment into the art that they so desperately
seem to want in their house. The venue may be packed
to capacity (perhaps briskly selling refreshments and
whatnot), but if the artist makes nothing (or close to
nothing) from donations, who has taken the risk? The
venue always wins. If you have a good night, and
people are feeling generous, then you go away feeling
happy. But the risk was all yours.

Of course, venues want to have performing arts in
their space because it brings in business, entertains
their customers, and creates an impression that they
support the arts. Some venues want to have performing
arts in their space because it pays their rent. Are
you subsidizing some venue's rent? What actual
investment is that venue making in you? What risk are
they taking? Are they even meeting you halfway? Are
they taking all of the door? Or *just* the first
$80-$100? Or maybe a venue gets a good-hearted,
community-minded artist to curate a series and
shoulder the financial risk (by having them make up
any difference in rent out of their own pocket)?

Why do artists feel so grateful when a venue *allows*
them to beg for donations from the audience? As I
mentioned above, some artists feel that they do not
need to be compensated for their art, because they
don't depend on it for their living. So they do it
"for fun." Fine. But most of the artists I know and
respect have spent most of their lives committed to,
and developing, their art. As I said before, they
live to do their art – even if they are not doing
their art to make a living. They deserve to be
compensated, without turning into beggars.

Here's my personal theory: That our culture devalues
the arts on such a profound, systematic, and insidious
level that artists, themselves, actually begin to
devalue their own art. On some level, conscious or
not, I believe that artists who don't care whether or
not they get compensated for their life's work must
not feel like they actually deserve to be compensated.
And this, in my opinion, is why some people actually
feel sincerely grateful to any venue that allows them
to perform in their space for no compensation. I
believe that artists feel compelled to create, whether
they are compensated or not. But some venues clearly
take advantage of the artist's need to create.

If venues want to have performing arts in their
spaces, they should extend themselves, at least
meeting the artist halfway, in terms of making an
investment and shouldering the potential risk.
Otherwise, the venue is always taking advantage of the
artist (no matter how much free tea or coffee they
give you, or how many emails they send out advertising
the gig). I would argue that the actual amount of
money that the artist makes is less important than the
question of whether or not the venue is actually
extending itself – making an investment and taking a
risk - to see to it that the artist gets compensated.

Free art? Sure, we've all played for free at various
times. No problem. We choose to do this for a
variety of reasons: to experiment or develop new
work, to work with people we've never worked with
before, to raise money for various causes, to draw
attention to a new recording or upcoming concert/tour,
etc. But when a commercial venue regularly wants to
have music, because ultimately it benefits them,
financially, then there is absolutely no reason for
them not to value that art, and make some kind of
investment in it.

And finally, how are we supporting unfair practices?
Or how are we trying to change unfair non-compensation
practices? As we all know, venues will not feel
compelled to invest/risk and change unfair practices
as long as there is an endless supply of artists
willing to bend-over for them, and then say, "thank
you!"

Wow, do I sound pissed? You bet.

Thanks for listening,
Jeff Song