The Cost of Creativity

The wedding cake that Teresa made for Brad and I. 

It seems like such an oxymoron to be raised as a “banker’s daughter” and grow up to become an artist. Art and money are as separated as they can get, right? Artists make art “because we just feeeeeel it, maaaan!” While that may be true to a degree (perhaps for some more than others….after all, I don’t want to stereotype and generalize that all artists are the same breed) there is actually a lot of important factors that are put into play when considering the cost of creativity, and believe it or not, most artists and creators consider these factors when putting a price tag onto that art piece.

I can’t help but think of my sister, The Midnight Baker, who is constantly appraised for her work. After all, people are using the most important of the five senses when appreciating her work; taste. (Well, I think it’s the most important of the senses, because I’m Ukrainian and I like to eat.) Not only does her work have to be delicious, it has to be customized to suit the buyer’s demands, and it has to be aesthetically pleasing. By the way, she surpasses all of those criteria and then some. Yum!

 But there is always somebody in the crowd that wants the triple layered wedding cake for the price of a Twinkie. As Teresa puts it, “This isn’t a hobby. This is my livelihood. I am a one-person business.” Do you know how many cakes and cookies and tarts she has to make to pay to keep her kitchen up to code, pay for commercial insurance (which has to cover things such as slippage/accidents, breakdown of equipment, her delivery vehicle), pay for packaging supplies, pay for ingredients, pay for a portion of the heat, and hydro (can you imagine what her hydro bills are with a double stove running 24/7?!!!), paying for fees for accounting, licensing, food handlers certification, paying for advertising, office supplies, and so forth? All of that cost is put in a deliciously chocolaty bite sized morsel with buttercream frosting at a reasonable price. She truly is a sculptor with flour, sugar, and eggs and deserves to be paid well for it.

And I can completely relate to my sister, (and not just genetically…har, har, har!) because I too am asked questions like, “When are you going to turn that original painting into prints?”  And “Are you planning on having a sale any time?” Could you imagine going to a doctor and asking for a discount on their service? When have you ever had a vehicle repaired and asked if the mechanic could get paid less per hour? So I am going to spell out how I price out my work, so that it is understood why my price for my art is my price for my art. Just like my sister’s cake is her cake.

I use a combination of the classic “square inch” method and an hourly rate, whichever seems fairer. The square inch method is simple: multiply the length of an art piece by the width, and then multiply that by a dollar price. A beginner artist would charge about $1 per square inch. A very established artist would charge $6 per square inch. So a starting artist would get $80 for an 8x10 painting and an established artist would get $480 for that same size of painting. That, my friends, is why artists are called “starving artists”!  I charge on the low to medium level of that scale because I want my work to actually sell while still considering the same factors that my sister does such as the cost of supplies, my use of hydro, et al. I want to be fair to you, and I want to be fair to me.

If I sell my work in another business or gallery, then I have to consider a commission fee. I can’t just hang that artwork up on the wall for nothing! Some galleries generously only ask 10% where larger established galleries ask for 50% of the sale. Again, how would you like to go to a restaurant and only get half a sandwich but pay full price? Some days I feel like I’m eating half a sandwich when I’m working in my studio.

But I love what I do and am proud of what I do and I won’t feel shamed into lowing my price or standards because we live in a Walmart society. My philosophy is that you get what you pay for; an original, one of a kind, funky piece of creativity that can’t be compared to anything else. You’re paying for that one of a kind experience. You’re paying for those wacky, interesting thoughts that get projected onto cookies or a canvas. You’re paying for that professional judgment that ensures that you’re getting exactly what you asked for, and then some. You’re paying for that exorbitant amount of time that the artist spends with passion and zest. Food for thought. 

All photos are from The Midnight Baker's Facebook page, and all of these cakes were created by Teresa Faulconer, my sister. :)

This article was originally written for and posted in The Northern Sun on June 1lth, 2014.