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There’s an old joke that if you want to capture the attention of a server in New York City you should call out “Actor!” Beneath the humor lies an inescapable truth; anyone wanting a career in the visual or performing arts had better plan on doing something else to make ends meet.
“Day Jobs,” the current exhibition at the Cantor Arts Center, addresses this subject in such a thorough and expansive way you might wonder why no one has done it before. Viewing the incredibly varied work of the 39 artists represented makes for a compelling and thought-provoking experience — why is it the case that artists can rarely support themselves doing what they love?
Veronica Roberts, curator of the exhibition and director of the museum, was inspired to tackle the subject after years of working directly with artists both in New York City and at her previous position at the Blanton Museum of Art in Houston.
“Every artist I knew had to work,” she said, “and I was struck by how we didn’t talk about what they did.” She explained that there is almost a certain stigma attached to having a “real job” and what that meant for the working artist.

“The thinking that you had to focus on art full time to be a serious artist is not a fair way of looking at the world,” she said. The opposite extreme, the stereotype of the impoverished artist toiling away in a studio, isolated and alone, is also not realistic, she noted.
“The artists I know are juggling a million things — not living in a separate sphere,” she said.
It is this ability to find value, worth and meaning in alternative occupations, while pursuing their artistic passions, that Roberts celebrates in the exhibition. Indeed, she asserts that artists have found not only financial support but also a sense of structure by working full or part time. It is fascinating to see how the necessary labor of the day (or night) has seeped into the artistic practice of these artists, in some cases impacting their choice of medium, in others their subject matter.
It’s a big topic in a big show that occupies galleries on two floors of the museum (the show was expanded from its original iteration in Texas to include more California artists). Roberts and curatorial assistant Jorge Sibaja wisely chose to organize the show into occupation-based sections: Media and Advertising, Service Industry, Art World, Design and Fashion, Caregivers, and Finance, Tech and Law. There are some well-known artists in this exhibition: Andy Warhol, James Rosenquist, Larry Bell and Sol LeWitt. The latter two artists can be found in the Art World section with some of their signature work.

LeWitt found fame with his highly conceptual wall drawings, but did you know he supported himself by working as a receptionist at New York’s Museum of Modern Art? As Roberts points out in her very informative catalog essay, LeWitt told her that rubbing shoulders with established artists at the museum was “more of an education than I ever got in art school.”
Similarly, for Larry Bell, working in a frame shop provided the quixotic experience of noticing a sheet of broken glass (there is a small, framed version in the show). This led to a very successful career investigating the effects of light and reflection on glass boxes like “Untitled Coated SS.”
Another familiar name, Andy Warhol, is represented in the Media/Advertising Section with an example of a very early illustration he created for a McCall’s Magazine feature about holiday hats. When he was eventually able to quit his illustration work, he rose to art-world stardom by making large-scale silkscreen prints, a medium nobody thought was sophisticated enough to use. His bold, colorful representations seen here, of a Chanel perfume bottle, a green Volkswagen Beetle and Ronald Reagan in an ad for Van Heusen shirts proved them wrong.
The above-mentioned are artists who, through luck and hard work, found success and the ability to focus on full-time creating. As the exhibition points out, there are many, many contemporary artists still working toward that goal.

Narsiso Martinez looked no further than the summer jobs he had, harvesting food in the fields of California, for inspiration. His “Legal Tender” is a powerful, panoramic view of the physical labor required to bring food to the nation’s tables. Constructed from discarded food cartons, it is a meditation on class and wealth distribution. For Julia Scher, the bright pink uniform she wore as a security guard has become an art object in itself.
It’s not a big stretch to find that working in fashion and design would be conducive to creativity and inspiration. Richard Artschwager was a cabinet maker before using his skills to make objects like the ones in the show: wooden tables and frames that are aesthetically pleasing but not functional. Genesis Belanger was a prop stylist assistant for magazines and her “Folly” is a delightful trompe l’oeil picnic of stoneware objects (blanket, food and utensils) that is fun and amusing in its pastel brightness.
Mark Bradford graduated from art school but supported himself by working at his mother’s Los Angeles hair salon. There, he was inspired by the transparent end papers used in doing perms. They became a signature medium in his work, layered on canvas and painted upon repeatedly to create his own take on abstraction, as in “20 minutes from any bus stop.”
Caregiving would seem a predictable choice of work for an artist, finding time to create when the kids go to bed. Perhaps one of the most compelling stories from this section of the show is that of Vivian Maier, who worked as a nanny for most of her life while somehow amassing a huge trove of photographs she took during her working hours. As “Finding Vivian Maier,” the Oscar-winning documentary about her life portrayed, Maier was not a trained photographer nor did she ever seek attention for her work. When she died, her belongings included over 100,000 never-seen images that were eventually printed. The nine images in the show reflect her careful attention to the most quotidian aspects of life: a shoe, a mailbox, as well as several candid self-portraits.
In a similar vein, Jay Lynn Gomez worked as a nanny in Beverly Hills. Her clever mixed-media works insert the unseen workers (cleaners, security guards), who are often immigrants, into tableaus in luxurious homes, museums and fashion houses.

In the last section of the exhibition, artist Ahree Lee graphically portrays the challenge of being an artist and a mother. Formerly a user-experience designer in Silicon Valley, Lee opted to stay home after her child’s birth. Knowing that early designs for computers were based on jacquard weaving looms, she used the medium to create a striking wall hanging that reflects the many and varied demands of her day. “Timesheet Nov. 4-10, 2018 2019” is beautiful to look at, but take the time to discern how each color represents time spent on necessary chores. It certainly reinforces the notion that a woman’s work is never done.
The exhibition could easily have been a diatribe on the toils and troubles of the unfortunate artist, but Roberts has taken a much more positive, respectful stance, acknowledging that, yes, life is hard for most artists but their determination and resilience is an asset.
“They have to do it out of a sense of passion, a calling, the sense that ‘there is nothing else I want to do’,” she said.
She hopes that by focusing on the potential creativity and inspiration gained — directly or indirectly — from a day job, the exhibition serves to encourage and support up-and-coming artists, and to enlighten anyone who thinks their course is an easy one.
“I want artists to see the show and know that they can become great artists and still work a day job.”
“Day Jobs” is on view through July 21 at the Cantor Arts Center, 328 Lomita Drive, Stanford. The museum offers curator talks on April 24 and 25, 12:30 p.m.; May 8, noon; May 29, 12:30 p.m.; May 30, 12:30 p.m.; and June 27, noon. Also, May 28, 6 p.m., the museum hosts “Beyond ‘Day Jobs:’ Alternative Economies for Artists,” a panel discussion that explores different models of supporting artists. Programs and museum admission is free. For more information, visit museum.stanford.edu.



