Many questions are filling your head right now. Who is this person? Where did she come from? How does she expect me to achieve this dream?  Do I believe this goal is even remotely possible? All valid questions. All of these questions will be answered. But first, let me ask you some questions. What do you want? Why do you want what you want? Who are you to want what you want? Are these not the most challenging questions to answer? I believe these are tough questions, not because you don’t know, but because they change. Change is the constant. The target moves, and the goal shifts. Not because you aren’t focused or disciplined, but because we are flying through space and time and no two moments are ever the same.  You are never the same. You are constantly evolving. So it makes sense that the “What + Why = Who” equation is non linear. Often times, self-discovery happens in a seemingly random order, as it did for me. 

I will start by telling you how I arrived at what I want: world domination for artists. Stop laughing. As I go through my history you will discover my “why”. This is incredibly important because my “why” is everything. It’s the key to unlocking the door, and behind that door is your future. 

I started out in business school at The University of Texas. Although I tried to push the eject button and transfer into the Art History department, I found myself pulled back in, not unlike some scene from The Godfather. I graduated with a business degree and an emphasis in tax accounting, and I was quickly hired to work at a Big 6 accounting firm. The work was as dry and boring as you could imagine, but it did get me to San Francisco. It was the height of the first dot com boom, and I was in charge of creating tax projection models for companies like The Gap and Starbucks. I was ready to stab my eyes out, but I developed a real knack for problem solving, systems development and financial modeling. Don’t judge; this nerd is on your side now. 

I was bored out of my mind and, as most of us in our early 20’s, I felt like I wanted to leave my mark but had absolutely no clue exactly how that was going to manifest itself. I did a lot of running, soul searching and tried to recall when I was happiest. In college, I had studied art history briefly and was constantly drawn back to the realm of art. Maybe that was my true calling. I desperately needed to find out for sure.

With an overactive mind, a restless spirit, an endless amount of energy and a hint of rebellion, I sought out an internship at a nearby art gallery. I pitched the gallery a trade: I would help them with budgets, cost projections and profit and loss analysis, and I would be able to get that Art History education I was denied in college. They agreed even though they admitted they had no idea what a budget or a cash flow analysis was or why it was important. 

I worked Monday through Friday at the accounting firm and worked Thursday nights and Saturdays at the gallery. I was working my tits off. I remember asking myself why am I working two jobs? It wasn’t for the money or the glory. I was clearly trying to figure something out. Why was I so hell bent on working in the art world? Yes, who doesn’t love walking around art in high heels, but what did I think I was going to accomplish exactly? I started to really consider my compulsion. 

Then I remembered the first time I experienced the enigma of contemporary art. It was in Houston, Texas. I think I may have glossed over the fact that I am a native Texan. Wait, don’t throw the book out yet. Full disclosure: I am an art nerd, a self-professed lover of Excel spreadsheets, also a foul-mouthed, ex-Texas cheerleader, a lover of science fiction and an Eastern philosophy nut. I hope something in there is going to connect with my reader, probably not the cheerleader part, but hell, who doesn’t need a cheerleader on their side some days?

Back to Houston. I was in the Rothko Chapel. Those ominous black paintings situated in a circle staring back at me, beckoning me. Nothing else in the world could do that, not even nature. I just wanted in. I wanted to see what was on the other side. Those doors of perception were the reason I had sought out another path for my life. I wanted desperately to peer into this art world, understand it, and figure it out.  I made up my mind to jump in head first. I quit my well-paying, cushy corporate accounting job and moved to New York, the center of the art world. 

I immediately landed a very prestigious position answering phones at David Zwirner. Obviously the job wasn’t incredibly taxing initially, so I preoccupied myself with other projects such as curating, studying, writing, volunteering and most importantly, building better mousetraps. My business mind had found purchase. My analytical tools were necessary. The gallery world was an absolute train wreck. No business reports, no budgeting, no understanding of cost projection, chaos abound and no one else wanted to do this tedious shit. I carved a niche for myself and set my sights on the path ahead to make things easier to understand. More streamlined, simpler, more focused, in essence: to create order out of the chaos. As I applied my knowledge and skills from the business world to the art world, I began to realize it was, and still is, my currency. 

“Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”  - Gustave Flaubert

Over the course of the next six years working at galleries, I developed relationships with artists, sold artwork, ran operations, built programs, designed websites, curated shows, wrote press releases, as well as analyzed and observed the power dynamics of the artist - gallery relationship. I began to realize a gallery’s limitations as it served artists. Galleries had their place, no doubt about it. They were the educators, the risk-takers, the connectors, the rainmakers, the tastemakers, and the doyens. I kept hearing this a lot from my artist friends, “I want to be represented by a good gallery. It’s the only way I’m going to be taken seriously as an artist. That’s just the way it works.” 

I knew what galleries did for artists and how essential they were within the art world. But there were two main issues that kept arising: one, there was an inherent conflict of interest between galleries and artists, which at times was both good and bad. A gallery’s primary goal is sales, and its secondary goal, even though it’s a close second, is representing and looking after their artist’s best interests. Sometimes the gallery’s goals are in direct opposition to the artist’s. Now, most of the time in a good relationship, these differences can be smoothed out. The power struggle can often times be healthy and advantageous as each partner pushes the other party towards their long-term goals. However, when the power dynamic is unequal between the gallery and the artist whom it is supposed to be serving, it can lead to abuse and exploitation. 

The second issue that I kept noticing was even more troubling. Over the years, I realized that the galleries were neither the problem nor the solution for artists. Galleries were a vital component for artist’s success, but the issues that plagued artists were deeper and more widespread. The market was speculative, capricious and ultimately hostile and dangerous to an artist’s career. It was unpredictable and cutthroat. Some say that’s a healthy situation, as it weeds out the “bad” artists. However, is it not history that is tasked with that role, rather than the current market?  Sometimes it takes decades for an artist’s true value to be revealed. The established system might not be the best gauge of artistic genius. 

“The trouble with being poor is that it takes up all your time.” - Willem de Kooning

If artists were to run the world with the gallery deemed the only portal against the backdrop of an erratic, turbulent market, then we would all be fucked.

A “Goldilocks” environment had yet to be discovered for artists to settle, prosper and thrive. As idealistic as I am, I have serious doubts that the altruistic world that spawned the New Deal and the WPA would ever exist again. So the ultimate question is, can an artist evolve and adapt in order to proliferate regardless of their environment? 

In order to find the answer, I had to go back to understanding the problem. The problem is figuring out how artists can get the things that they want and need in order to succeed within an inhospitable landscape. What do artists need? What do artists want? 

Artists, you want support. You want a family and a community. You want people to get “it”. You want to make money making your art. You want to be in prestigious collections. You want to exhibit in beautiful spaces. You want people to challenge you. You want relevancy. You want to make an impact. You want to have a legacy. 

Over the course of the past twenty years, I boiled these desires down into three distinct career goals towards which artists gravitate: Exposure, Context, and Money. 

You want Exposure. You want your work to be exhibited in museums, placed in collections, shown in galleries and shared on social media. In general, you want your art out in the world to be seen by as many people as possible. You also want to build relationships and connections with your audience, creating meaningful impact.

You want Context. You want your work to be positioned in a way that enhances its aesthetics and relevance. You want to create relationships with people who understand your work, can speak about your art thoughtfully and want to support and promote you and your vision.

You want Money. You want to support yourself through your work. You want to quit your day job. You want to make work that is fulfilling and allows you to afford a studio practice for the long-term. You want the world to see that your work has value. 

Once I understood the components of what artists wanted and needed, I noticed that often these desires were at odds with one another. They were each constrained by the other. There was a clear conflict; no wonder artists were fighting an uphill battle. Not only was the environment hostile, but the desires that drove them towards their success were, by their very nature, plagued with sacrifice and compromise. This felt familiar; where had I seen this dynamic before? It dawned on me that this was similar to the Triple Constraint from the business world. 

The Triple Constraint or The Iron Triangle states that with any given project, time, cost and quality are simultaneously the desires that lead to success, as well as the opposing forces constraining the scope. They are each interconnected, and one of the three must be compromised in order to gain the other two. And if one of the constraints changes, so must one of the other constraints. It’s a delicate balancing act. You can’t have it all. Something’s got to give. 

Have you ever gotten something that was cheap, fast and good quality? Not often, I bet. It’s a rarity. The term “good enough” comes to mind. Most of the time, if I want something that is good quality and fast, it’s going to cost me money. I gain quality and speed, but at a financial expense. Fast + Good = Expensive. An example of this would be the rush fees that are charged because your job has to jump ahead in line of other jobs. It costs money to take priority.

If my budget shrinks midway through the project, but I still need good quality, then I have to extend my deadline. Because money was compromised, and I still need to have good quality, then it’s going to take longer. Cheap + Good = Slow. An example of this would be that your job must go behind the people that are spending more money. Big spenders get priority.

If my timeline speeds up, and I still want to keep costs low then the quality is going to suffer. I gain speed and low cost, but it’s not going to be good quality. Cheap + Fast = Poor Quality. An example of this would be some mass-produced toy made in China that has to roll out just in time for Christmas. 

So the name of the game is compromise? How was I going to help artists by starting the conversation with, “Well guess what, you can’t have it all. Sorry.” It has such an inspiring ring to it. Then I realized, there are three components, and the artist is only sacrificing one of the three. So the artist is gaining more than they are compromising. The name of the game isn’t compromise. The name of the game is choice. 

Choice is a great gift. It’s your power; it’s freedom, dare I say, it’s fun. Having it all is a great goal to shoot for, but that’s not incredibly realistic, nor is it really that exciting. It’s easy to want it all. But it’s almost “unnatural” to not have some kind of compromise in the formula. There are plenty of examples of artists that “have it all”. But I truly believe this is not luck, nor a freak accident. I believe that if you delve into your heroes’ history, they were tasked with making all sorts of choices and sacrifices throughout their careers. Living with your choices, knowing what you’re compromising and making the most informed decision in that moment takes a tremendous amount of maturity and intelligence. And most importantly it shapes who you are, the art you make and the mark you leave. 

Almost ten years ago, I left New York for Los Angeles and opened a private financial consulting practice for artists and galleries. I began to adapt the Triple Constraint to formulate a methodology called The ArtSmart Method, a tool that artists could use every time they came up against a career decision. The goal was to develop a simple, independent guide that artists could reference outside of their representation or peer group. This method has proven itself to be a reliable resource for artists helping them navigate both the opportunities and pitfalls throughout their career path.  

As I mentioned before, there are three main components to having a successful career as an artist: exposure, context and money. Not only are these components essential, they are each imposing constraints on the other. These constraints are imbedded in each decision artists must make as they navigate their careers. The ArtSmart Method helps an artist make career-defining decisions by asking three fundamental questions: What can I gain? What can I compromise? What can I change? The ArtSmart Method is all about choice. It’s important to know what you are compromising with each decision you make and how these choices are interconnected with one another. The point is to try to expose and understand the compromise with full insight into all aspects and perspectives. Only by seeing the whole picture can you live, grow and achieve balance…and don’t forget, world domination.

When you are confronted with an issue, ask yourself, “Why am I contemplating this decision?” The answer is, “Because I will gain either exposure, context or money.” The next question is, “What am I compromising?” Seems extreme, right? Why would I say yes to something if I have to make a sacrifice? This is an important part of the process. You must understand exactly what you will not be getting out of this deal. The real magic happens with the third and final question, “What can I change?” As you dial in and go through the detailed aspects of each malleable component, you will discover how to make change happen. By applying the tools and understanding the scenarios that follow, you will learn how to take control and look at each problem as an opportunity. Once you have begun to master the method, you will see how it reshapes and redefines your future. 

Seems simple enough, but I’ve seen artists get mired in this unfortunate zone called perfection. Artists get stuck when they expect every decision, every chess move, to perfectly move them forward. They see themselves as yielding, but that’s not the case. All you’re doing is yielding one of the components of your success equation. The whole you doesn’t yield. You are ebbing and flowing through the mechanism of your decisions. You create your future and determine your career, and once you are back in a place of creation, you can truly be uncompromising. 

In the following chapters, you will learn the definition and components of each goal. I will walk you through several scenarios so you can see how to apply The ArtSmart Method and discover which elements you will gain, compromise and change. As I mentioned before, the magic happens when you focus on the component that you can change. I offer key tools that allow you to make that change happen. 

These real-life scenarios illustrate and reveal opportunities, as well as assist in avoiding hazards and exploitations. This process allows for a defense and offense simultaneously. It can be used in the microcosm to make small, incremental decisions that you might face everyday. It can also be used in the macrocosm to make bigger, more complex decisions that could impact a profound advancement in your artistic career.

Making these complex decisions is a chaotic process; you stand in the middle of the torrent trying to be logical and rational, clear-headed and focused. This methodology creates order out of chaos. It removes the obstacle of emotion. It clarifies the process, which allows you respond rather than react. It provides a training ground that allows you to trust yourself and really see the path ahead. 

The ArtSmart Method is beyond mere theory. It works like magic. Incredible as it may sound, this method and its application has the ability to change an artist’s way of thinking and navigating through the art world. It has the power to create that “Goldilocks” environment. That hospitable place is in your head. That soft landing is within you. World domination is not just probable; it’s inevitable. The revolution begins with you. And it begins now.