For a long time, I resisted writing an artist statement. Not because I didn’t have ideas about my work, but because every time I tried to put those ideas into words, it felt suffocating.
I worried that naming what I was doing or wanted to do would somehow eliminate every other possibility. I like to do so many different things and I’m interested in so much! Wouldn’t an artist statement stifle all that?!
I’m going to tell you what it took me years to understand: an artist statement doesn’t have to be permanent to be powerful. It can simply clarify who you are right now! That notion changed everything for me. Maybe it will for you too?
Artist Statement as Mission Statement NOT Marketing Tool
Most artists are introduced to the artist statement as a professional requirement. It’s something you write for a website, a grant application, or a gallery submission. It’s a marketing tool. So, if you’re not a professional artist, you may think you don’t need one. But let me change your mind.
Try thinking of your artist statement as functioning like a mission statement. It’s a practical TOOL every artist should have and use.
In this video, I use a non-profit organization as a metaphor. Watch the video for more:
A Mission Statement Helps You Focus
As I mention in the video, if you look at organizations you admire, their mission statements aren’t decorative. They help them make decisions. They define who they serve and how they serve them. They clarify what belongs and what does not. A strong mission narrows your focus in a helpful way. An artist statement can do the same thing for an art practice! If you know what you want to make art about you can quickly and easily:
- make decisions about what to research, sketch, or pay attention to
- know what you should draw or what skills you should practice
- figure out whether to do X or Y based on what your mission statement is telling you
Without that kind of clarity, everything feels equally viable. Every idea is tempting. Every new material seems worth exploring. At first that openness is exhilarating. Eventually it becomes exhausting. You can spend years circling your interests without ever deepening them.
Go Deeper Than a Label
A lot of people start with a broad label, such as, “I make work about nature.” But that statement isn’t particularly unique, interesting, or revealing. You need to think about YOU. What is your relationship to nature? Your position on how nature should be regarded? You’ve got to bring yourself to it.
In the video I shared above, I give an example from my own work: “I use overgrown nature as a metaphor for motherhood and the beautiful, layered, uncontrollable chaos of that experience.” And I break down how each part of that statement helps me. For instance, “overgrown nature” means that I’m not just looking at trees. Instead, I’m paying attention to wildness. I’m noticing density, tangles, fecundity.
Specificity is not the enemy of freedom. In an art practice, it is often the condition that makes depth possible.
Artist Statement as Guide
In the studio, even that simple sentence can become a quiet guide. When choosing colors, I could ask whether they heightened the sense of layered abundance I was after. When building compositions, I could notice if a piece felt too orderly, too sparse, too polite. If I felt stuck, I could return to my artist statement and ask, “What would make this more honest? More true to the experience I’m trying to translate?”
An artist statement does not tell me what to make. It helps me understand how to evaluate what I have made. It gives me something to push against. Trial and error only becomes meaningful when you know what you are testing. Otherwise, you are just experimenting in a vacuum.
It’s Only for Now
I think many artists avoid writing an artist statement because they fear permanence. But the truth is that our interests shift whether we articulate them or not. An artist statement can evolve as we do. In fact, it should. Revisiting it every six months to a year is not an admission of inconsistency. Rather, it is an acknowledgment of growth!
On the left is one of the first large paintings I ever made. It’s from 2012. On the right is a painting I finished in 2024.
I’m still the same artist in both paintings. But my skills and my interests (and my ability to spell) changed over time. And so too did my artist statement!
Just remember: an artist statement is not a cage. It is a scaffold. It is something you stand on while you build.
Final Thoughts
If your work has been feeling scattered or directionless, it may not be a problem of skill or discipline. It may simply be that you have not yet clarified what you are actually chasing. A thoughtfully written artist statement can bring that clarity. Once you have it, your decisions become less frantic. Your research becomes more focused. Your experiments become more meaningful.
If you want help figuring out that artist statement, we are currently working on that over at My Art Practice. The March of Artist Books class also has a lesson dedicated to helping you to narrow down your focus.
Thanks for stopping by!
Related Links:
