An Off the Wall Lesson in Artistry from Matson Jones
By Rebecca Horton Posted in Visual Art on May 28, 2010 0 Comments 4 min read
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Some say we’re entering the “Creative Age.” But what is an artist to do when he can barely afford life’s necessities, much less pay for the materials to carry on in his work?

It is easy to hope that a fabled patron might come along to foot the bills – and at times they do. When reality strikes back, though, we realize that not every artist is going to be able to make a living wage making his or her art. Even in the best of economies, this will probably never be the case. But, that does not mean that the artist should give up or even retire for a “safe” career.  When painting pictures will not pay the bills, perhaps the best way to respond is by painting outside the lines.

I read a book that inspired me to rethink the way that artists should go about making money. Chronicling the life and work of Robert Rauschenberg, this book wove an interesting tale of Rauschenberg’s “Off the Wall” path to success. Rauschenberg’s paintings are now at New York’s Museum of Modern Art, the Whitney, and other prestigious museums, but years ago he was painting over old canvases because he could not afford to purchase new ones. In a tough spot after being fired from a job as a janitor, Rauschenberg needed a new source of income. And after a bit of creative thinking, he found it in an unlikely place: window dressing.

Having done a brief stint doing windows for Gene Moore, Rauschenberg began doing displays for a variety of venues, including such highbrow operations as Tiffany’s and Bonwit’s department store. Rauschenberg even managed to reel his friend Jasper Johns into what became a regular operation, and a quite lucrative one at that. Before long, thanks in part to Rauschenberg’s innovative approach to making art and Johns’ meticulousness for detail, the duo was pulling in work from a variety of avenues. The artists’ approach was simple: they took on only enough jobs to sustain their finances, and managed to save up most of their time for pursuing their personal artwork. Eventually, the two branded their partnership as Matson Jones, using this name to keep their commercial projects separate from their painting.

The duo’s work as window dressers is an interesting case study about the outpourings of an artist’s vocation. It is particularly interesting when considering how someone with a penchant for painting – or for that matter any art form – might work out his or her craft.

Matson Jones provided a way for Rauschenberg and Johns to continue making their art, even if they were not getting paid enough to live on – and in Rauschenberg’s case, it encouraged the use of new and different materials. Rauschenberg began using concepts gleaned from his window dressing work in his artwork, incorporating new materials such as aluminum and gold leaf. As a result, a commercial occupation often regarded in disdain by some artists ended up expanding Rauschenberg’s artistic palette. Go figure.

It is no mistake that these two later-famed painters were successful with their window displays. Their commercial success was most certainly tied to their experience envisioning and creating artwork, not just some ability to conjure up moneymaking schemes. Window work is, in many ways, a natural fit for painters who are accustomed to turning ideas into images and producing bodies of work that build upon a theme.

With this odd partnership sketched out, there are certainly some lessons that can be gleaned. But, rather than trying to provide the answers, I would like to pose a few questions. How might Rauschenberg and Johns’ model for making money while continuing to make art apply to and inform artists today? For instance, what non-traditional ways might an artist consider for honing his or her craft? And further, how might an artist transform his or her view of “work” to incorporate new outpourings that might result in an income?

While the answers to these questions are not black and white, they remind us that neither is the vocation of an artist. Talent does not always equate with financial viability nor does the sheer quality of one’s artwork. This is what is clear: when the way forward seems impassable, a painter should not give up painting, a writer should not give up writing, and a musician should not give up music making. Instead, as the Matson Jones model suggests, sometimes a bit of creativity is necessary to make things work. With enough outside-the-box thinking, the result may just be (perhaps even to the artist’s surprise) a mutually beneficial collaboration.

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