When I first set out to make Apple Pie, I thought I wanted to include an American-American in the series as a way of highlighting the fact that even the people who consider themselves “just plain American” are really hyphenated too. I envisioned the American-American subject as someone who was iconic in his own right--like Jimmy Carter, Steve Martin, or Richard Simmons--a famous white male who would let me put him in the role of another American icon.
I invited close to thirty celebrities to participate, using whatever addresses I could rustle up online.
I sent out letters in envelopes like this one, paint-and-canvas mock-ups of the ordinary Manila envelope.
I was asking each of the subjects for an hour--enough time to photograph and interview him.
For all my queries, I received just four responses: rejections, all of them. The assistants of Stephen King, Bill Gates, and Phil Knight informed me that their bosses were too busy at the moment. Bill Clinton’s people said the same thing, especially disappointing because I really wanted the chance to combine the former President with Huckleberry Finn!
In the end, I’m glad that I never found an American-American. If an iconic subject had participated in the series, Apple Pie would have become all about him, instead of the twenty real people who made the show possible. And, what’s more, if I’d painted a famous face, I’d be falling right into the same trap as all the portraitists who have some clout today.
After all, every recent portrait artist who is a household name either photographs or has photographed celebrities: Richard Avedon, Robert Mapplethorpe, Annie Lebowitz, and Jill Greenberg are the ones that come to mind without too much reflection.*
I don’t want to be known as “Gwenn Seemel, portrait painter to the stars.” I want to make work that’s recognized for ITS merit, not for the merits of the people it portrays.
And celebrity is a trap many times over in today’s world. Not only can it brand an artist if it becomes her-his subject, condemning her-him to play second fiddle to the “chosen ones” she-he portrays, but it’s not even a worthwhile goal anymore. It just isn’t the way to do things today.
The music industry has already proven the point: the top-down approach to culture-making (and culture-spreading) works about as well as the top-down approach to economics. In this punk society, where no one is more of an authority than anyone else, there are a lot more artists who can make a living without being a super mega star. It’s a function of new technologies but also of the audience wanting to actually know the people it’s admiring...of all of us wanting to be each other’s heros instead of always looking at the newest plastic idol which the media corporations have over-inflated with hot air.
As my sweetheart put it recently, one thousand fans is all an artist needs to make a good living.** That may seem like a lot, but it’s far fewer than the number of people who own the Beatles’ White Album.
The rules have changed: the only people who believe that gates exist anymore are the gatekeepers themselves. So, the question becomes: do you believe in them? Do you really want to be a gatekeeper when it isn’t just one or two people finding a way around you but an entire creative class?
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*And I specify photographer because there aren’t any truly well known portrait painters today. Chuck Close and Kehinde Wiley do not qualify.
**He’s come upon this theory a lot in his explorations of DIY culture. He can’t take credit for the genius of it!
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