Fire the Customer

Last year a jewellery colleague and I were speaking about custom work.

I suspect that most of us have encountered the problem of being asked to produce an item that we have agreed to make and then find ourselves completely without inspiration or ability to meet the request. “What to do?” becomes the question.

You will recognize that you have fallen victim to this when you know that it will fail to meet the client’s expectations as well as your own.

This conundrum occurs most often when have already produced impressive work and receive numerous compliments from the client. They will go on at length about how wonderful the pieces are, how talented you are and how much they think that you are the answer to solving their problem of producing the work that they have in mind. Inevitably, this ego boost from their praise will lull us into a belief that we really can do what they want. Reality hits later back in the studio and we begin to procrastinate on the project.

First, we are unable to come up with a design in our own head, let alone produce a basic drawing of the proposed design, based on the notes and quick sketches made during conversation with them. Secondly, as the deadline looms we start to panic and wonder why we are not able to do this. Thirdly, we start to look for a reason to escape the work; we start to defer it in favor of other projects, even the mundane of domesticity.

This should give you a clue that you are attempting to make something that is beyond your ability.

There is nothing wrong with knowing your limits. Perhaps the request involves a skill set that you have not mastered to your own satisfaction or perhaps not even tried yet. The issue becomes trying to do this new thing with a lack of confidence in your own ability. Do you really want the custom work to be your first foray into the new?

Probably not. So the reasonable solution may well be to fire the customer instead of staying stuck in the problem. Staying stuck in the problem is self-defeating, your other work is not being done, nor are you building your own confidence and ability at this time. It is wasting your creative effort.

Firing the customer is only difficult because of the guilt that you may feel because you have “let the customer down” but your honesty may well win you some respect too.

Explain to the client the efforts that you did take to complete the work, let them know that you do not have the skills necessary to undertake the work at this time. If you plain to master the skills later, let them know when you think you will have done that. Suggest another colleague that you know can complete the job and allow the client the option to pursue the work elsewhere in the near future, or come back to you later when you have learned more.

There is no shame in indicating that you need to learn more and intend to do just that.

The ultimate reward of firing the customer is that you will have restored your own equilibrium and relieved yourself of a job that has been holding you back from pursuing other tasks that will reward you. The sense of relief is palpable for most of us.

My colleague fired her customer after we talked about this block. She felt a lot better after the firing and indicated that it was a real relief to her to not have this ‘scary’ project pending. She did indicate that her other work had suffered as a result of procrastinating on the custom work too.

I had to fire a customer early last year because the praise went to my head too. It was not easy to do, and it felt like a failing at the time, but it was a relief to me too, and the customer was glad to have her stones back and a reference to another jeweler in the region. I still have not taken the time to learn a very particular skill in creating soldered sterling brooches and I am not sure that I ever will, since it still does not interest me, but at least I know my limits in this regard now.

Moral: Know your limits and respect them but do not let that stop from trying new work when you are ready and willing to encounter the issues that relate to the learning curve; and sometimes we have to make decisions that we don’t like.

Starving Artist… redundant phrase?

The vision in my head last night was one of crossing the border and proceeding through customs with my passport, which simply lists my occupation as “Artist”. It is a straightforward word, which can be embellished upon with the words painter, photographer, sculptor, metalworker, lapidary…. The joke that occurred to me was that of being asked to explain what kind of artist, and instead of stating my art interests, I replied with “starving, what other kind is there?” Of course, my humour was well received in my little imagining; perhaps it would not go over so well in real life.

This personal humour combined with some articles that I have read and watched lately on “successful” artists, i.e. those that aren’t starving for money, lead me to the following musings:

1) We are all starving artists, regardless of the monetary success. We are all still hungry for something.

2) To insert the word “starving” in front of the word “artist” is redundancy at its finest.

I think that the issue for so many artists is that we have come to accept the definition of success as one of monetary means. If we make money, lots of money, the works sell, has representation in galleries, and orders keep pouring in, then success has been achieved. Add to this that the perception of the public is that the artist is no longer starving and voila, an artistic genius at work, but are we missing something when this is the only measurement we use?

The genius might be hard at work, filling the orders, creating the pieces that replicate the ones that the gallery sold. The genius is staying so busy in the studio that they have neither time to recharge, visit old friends, nor work on developing their own artistic voice and vision any further than where it was at the moment they were “discovered” and became “successful”. This is still a starving artist, one that hungers for quiet, vision, a moment of peace and a recovery of a sense of self.

The undiscovered artist makes do with whatever is at hand to work with, with whatever inspires and excites. Has time to develop new work based on old, and moves forward in style and technique based on their artistic vision. They never seem stuck, or rushed, but the money is always tight. They are starving for representation, hungry for a cash flow that would allow for better or more consistent supply of materials. They are starving for elusive financial success.

Both artists need to create, that is the nature of the artist, but both artists are still starving.

When the success of the artist is narrowly defined by money, the former is successful and unhappy, and the latter poor but inspired. Hardly seems to be a winning combination in any case.

Artist is not a narrow word, there are multitudes of types and styles of artist, so too then artistic success should be defined as broadly. If the artist would no more limit themselves to one type of paper or brush or pen or stone or figure, then why should success be limited to one definition?

As an artist, who dislikes redundancy in a statement, there needs to be a better way to define artistic success, like having enough money to get by comfortably, but enough time and control over the work to remain in forward motion, which also means a willingness to try new ideas, risk rejection and occasionally fire the “too demanding client”. I know one thing for sure, that defining my success as an artist beyond the standard measure of money, makes me a much happier person, and that’s a success too.