Mothers, Fathers and Artists
If you want to really hurt your parents . . . the least you can do is go into the arts . . . The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. Kurt Vonnegut
I've noticed a pattern in the biographies of male artists: their fathers often expect them to enter a "serious, manly" profession like law, medicine or business, and are dead set against their sons pursuing a life of “fooling around” with paint on canvas.
Claude Monet, Paul Cezanne, Edward Manet, Paul Gauguin, and Henri Matisse are just a few in a long list of men who defied their fathers and became painters. The stakes were high for these artists, and they threw everything they had into succeeding.
If they failed at their work, they would be nothing in the eyes of society--or perhaps worse, in the eyes of their fathers.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the gender spectrum, the mothers of these fledgling artists often exhibited the exact opposite behavior--they supported their sons’ artistic interests. These moms may have worried that their wayward children would starve in a garret, but they didn’t stand in the way of their young devoting themselves to an uncertain profession.
Some of these mothers were amateur painters, and gave their sons their first lessons in drawing. They offered them their first praise, early patronage, and lasting support.
I was lucky to have both a father and a mother who encouraged me to follow my love of painting, and never said I should pursue a more "practical" profession. Their belief in me meant one less self-doubt to struggle with.
A supportive parent is a gift for a young artist—but not a necessary gift. Artists can, and do, persevere with their training and their work in the face of parental disapproval. They often find the strength to forge ahead without any family support, because they have no other choice. They know this is the only employment they’re suited for, come hell or high water.
Like young law clerk Matisse and stockbroker Gauguin, whose misery in their “respectable” jobs were impossible options, a foolhardy few turn their backs on parental expectations to take the plunge into a life of creative work.
These budding artists need to be stubbornly single-minded in their focus, and to pursue their obsession alone, sometimes into difficult places.
Over time those who have made their way without the support of their mother or father may be lucky enough to find new families created from like-minded friends or an encouraging partner, and within that framework build a life centered on a deep commitment to their art.
This isn’t an easy journey. If your childhood self heard, "No you can't" from your parents, rather than, "Go ahead and see if you can," it may take many years to quiet that disapproving parental voice in your head.
I’ve had many students, mostly women, who wanted to study art and were told by parents that wasn’t an option, that they needed more than anything the ability to make a living. So they made careers in other fields, and when nearing retirement renewed their interest in painting. Their self doubt may still be there, but so is their passion, and the opportunity to pick up a brush again feels like a gift.
When we’re finally in our studio alone, hearing not mother’s or father’s but our own voice, we have the chance to really begin. Now the challenge is to forge an accepting and compassionate relationship to our artist self, and become the nurturing parent to our creative work.