As an artist over the age of 60, I find myself grappling with the challenge of building a professional network and accessing opportunities in the art industry. The younger, well-connected crowd can be intimidating. Is it too late for me to find my place? Let’s dismiss the clichés: age is just a number! While aging does present certain challenges, such as adapting to new technologies, it doesn’t preclude us from thriving in our careers. Younger artists might get away with tech blunders as intentional quirks, but they can feel like missteps for older artists. This cultural bias can be frustrating.
Some artists embrace these differences as part of their identity. For instance, when I tried to contact Fran Lebowitz, her agent mentioned she neither uses email nor owns a cell phone, which only bolstered her image as someone who lives on her own terms. However, Lebowitz established her audience long before the digital age. Meanwhile, we’re building ours later in life, when energy for the social scene isn’t what it once was. Fortunately, art openings aren’t the sole avenue for networking. In major cities, viewing art during the quieter afternoons provides a chance for meaningful conversations with dealers and curators, without the pressure of large events.
Consider attending smaller gatherings like artist talks and panel discussions, perhaps with a friend, to ease the networking process. Approach technology collaboratively with fellow artists to make it an enjoyable experiment instead of a daunting hurdle. Accept that it’s natural to feel apprehensive when stepping out of your comfort zone. This fear often indicates you’re on the right track. But if you’re still feeling overwhelmed, let’s explore what might truly be unsettling you about this ‘ultra-connected’ world.
In some cases, ‘ultra-connected’ refers to individuals genuinely integrated into the art scene over years, while in others it signifies wealth and privilege. Despite the myth of the art world as a meritocracy, class barriers persist, creating tension. Many artists feel out of place at art fairs designed for the affluent. A personal experience 15 years ago taught me to navigate such disparities. Invited to a trunk sale by a wealthy artist, I found myself in a luxurious setting, feeling out of place. My partner advised, ‘It’s just money,’ which helped me shift my perspective and alleviate discomfort.
Releasing that anxiety improved my outlook, allowing me to focus on building meaningful relationships based on more than wealth and status. This mindset can be transformative, though it doesn’t erase all discomfort. Much like in our 20s, when we worried about attractiveness and experience, similar anxieties about relevance and energy emerge as we age. These fears reflect a deeper concern that our inherent value doesn’t align with societal expectations. Ageism and sexism exist, but belonging involves recognizing your strengths so that external judgments hold less power. You’re not young, but that’s not what defines your worth.
