The Why Art? Manifesto
I found this flyer tucked away in an old folder of sketches recently—a time capsule, reminding me of those early moments when creating was both exciting and daunting.
Let me begin by saying this post isn’t about throwing shade at whoever wrote the lovely document shown in the photo. The truth is, I have no idea who wrote it. What I do know is that I picked it up sometime during my undergrad years. Judging by the Italy sketches also in the folder, I’d say somewhere around 2013—but that’s beside the point. More importantly, if you, dear author, ever stumble upon this post, know that I kept this flyer with me all these years because it meant something. This isn’t a critique; it’s a reflection, with a few tweaks I'd propose today.
The Why Cheap Art? Manifesto was created to attract people—students, supporters—into a community college art department. I like to imagine it worked. I picture a studio filled with students of all ages, buzzing with excitement over the possibilities that come with creating. In fact, that’s not just imagination. It’s memory. I was one of those students. I remember lugging my materials into the classroom, searching for a safe space to create. I valued every minute back then, and now, in the busyness of everyday life, I value those moments even more.
But as a working artist now, I wince at the word "cheap." It grates on me—not because I believe art should be expensive or exclusive, but because art, in its purest form, just is. It exists. It’s something I’ve poured years into, creating for the sheer joy of it. Yes, I dream of one day making a living from my work. And yes, I’m thrilled when my art finds a home.
However, the word “cheap” carries a negative weight. It implies that I, as an artist, must undervalue my time, my energy, my creativity, just for my work to be seen, appreciated, and maybe acquired by someone else. I’ve spent years grappling with how to price my art. Is the cost too high? Is the cost too low? Is it good enough? Am I good enough?
Do I think art should be overpriced, out of reach, only for the wealthy? Absolutely not! But calling it "cheap" diminishes it. It reduces something soulful to the bargain bin at a superstore.
When you buy a piece of art, you’re not just buying an object. You’re purchasing a part of the artist’s dreams, their soul.
So, with all respect to the original manifesto, here’s my revised version (with a few additions):
The “Why Art?” Manifesto
People think that ART is a privilege that only belongs to museums and the rich.
Art is NOT business!!
It doesn’t belong to banks or fancy investors.
Art is food for the soul, the eyes, the heart.
Art is LIFE—available to and part of everyone.
It needs to be everywhere because it’s the heartbeat of the world.
Art soothes pain!
Art awakens!
Art fights against war and ignorance!
Art sings Hallelujah! It’s the song that pulses all around.
Art belongs in kitchens! It’s good bread that comforts and warms!
Art is nature! It exists in the trees, the earth, and the sky!
Art isn’t just a commodity—it’s a lifeblood that connects us all
ART IS LIFE!!