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all the questions we are taught to use when you first meet someone:
what do you do?
where do you live?
what are your hobbies?
are designed to help you quickly put them in a definable box.
what is your place in our economy?
what sort of consumption patterns so you participate in?
not looking at everything every person as a commodity
is a really hard thing in our society.
In the craft world at large, more than likely meeting folks will lead to the questions:
"do you sell?"
My "correct" answer is 'I dont." I say that, and alot of the time there is a pause. oh. ok. Its a weird pause, like if youre not selling it...well...? Then what?
Sometimes its an enthusiastic: "you SHOULD!"
Is the more correct answer: "oh no, I just buy stuff. My role is the consumer."
I do purchase yarn, support local artisans in the community by purchasing tools I need from from them. I try to purchase the raw fiber from local dye artists who are dyeing and processing fiber on a small scale on their own terms. I am also a maker too - just not participating in the commodity exchange at the end of my project.
Somehow that answer bothers me.
Despite 40+ hour dayjob, I still cant help but make things in every other moment of my life. Even if during the day I have to use my hands on a keyboard and not on a wheel or needle for work.
Is the validation for being a craftsman in that you make something to sell? Can it be for the enjoyment of the work, the learning, the expression?
As you know, this is all about process an learning for me. I do this for the preservation and the desire and impetus to learn more, to keep the knowledge alive a flowing. There are not a ton of people out there who find spinning yarn (for example, for which I am most passionate) particularly fascinating, and I feel like I am one of the lucky few who do. (If you go to a spinning conference, you will find many many others) and its an obligation to the craft to learn everything I can about it, caretake what knowledge I can absorb, perhaps add my own spin to it, but more importantly keep it alive.
The best answer I can come up with right now is to borrow from my friend Zoe: "No, but I am a major Enthusiast." (its not assertive enough somehow.)
Or perhaps I would like to assert a reclamation of the term "AMATEUR" as one who gives themselves fully and devotionally to a subject while otherwise financially employed in an entirely different venture.
So,
how do you talk about what you do?
does it matter to sell a thing?
where does the thing you make go to live its potential?
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When asked about the "professionalism" (read: commercial viability) of anything I do, my tendency would be as follows:
ReplyDeleteThem: "Do you sell?"
Me: "Why should I?" or, "Why? Do you buy?"
But that's because I'm a brat.
I always think a better question would be, "Do you teach?" or, "Will you teach me?" That's what I would ask, because that's what I am interested in.
It is refreshing to see people who are NOT selling the crafts they make, but who can revel in the fact that they are making them just to make stuff (not that I have a problem with selling obviously since I run a fiber business!)
ReplyDeleteI don't always like the question of "what do you do" either. Or the what do you do with all the X (sweaters in my case) that you make?
In the "professional" sense, I usually answer with something along the lines of "run a business" "am an artist" "natural dye studio" depending on who is asking and what is more relevant to what I think they are really asking- what box they want to put me in to, what convo they want to have.
While it can feel like people not selling are on the "outside"...you are not. You are our target market, not the other indie yarnies and such out there, as much as we try and sell like we are selling to other yarnies (which is a mistake, they already make yarn, so why we market like we are dealing with people who also make yarn etc for a living is beyond me). Anyways, not to put you in a "target market" demographic or anything!
Also, people who are "just" craftspeople also have some advantages- they can learn lots of techniques and not feel bad about changing what they are working on or where they get supplies from. They can have the time to learn more detailed and unusual techniques just for the sake of it (which is what I loved about art classes in college...art was not my major but in retrospect should have been)instead of needing to figure out how it then profits the bottom line. Plus you can work on whatever project you want without feeling like you are neglecting working on a business project (be it spinning, knitting, whatever).
Ill stop now, as the cat has decided to sit on the keyboard :)
When people ask me if I sell my work, I tell them that people can't afford to pay what it would be worth. Then I tell them that a pair of women's socks takes me about 10 hours, at $20/hour (I worked HARD for my skills, and would in this scenario intend to be paid commensurate with my experience!), that's a $200 pair of socks. They usually blanch a little and say, "well, that's not worth it..."
ReplyDeleteAnd I reply with, "it's also not worth it to be underpaid for hard work."
Craftspeople who underprice their labor and expertise devalue the entire craft. However, it's not entirely their fault; we've been living in an Industrial Age since the early 19th century and have gone through some truly awful "handmade" revolutions in those 200 years (macrame comes to mind...), so people who don't craft also don't understand the value of our work.
I really respect what you are doing. I wish we had the opportunity to chat at ACC this weekend. I am curious about your reaction to what I perceive as their divisions of craft. you can contact me at rubistudios.com
ReplyDeleteOh, nice topic.
ReplyDeleteI just tell the truth. I knit, I blog about knitting and I give my knitting to people. Other than that I grow food, I cook it then I eat it. Sometimes I make music, make art and make love. Mostly I just spend all of my time creating.
Then I ask: "What do you do?" and if they talk about their job, I say: "Nonono, like what do you DO?"
I'd rather know how they do it, but that only comes later after I get to know a person. It's not about the what, in actual fact, its about the how.
Glad I met you!
Blessings,
Lisa (MavenKnits)