I concede that in life, and especially in America, we are asked all the time to pick winners and losers, even if the process for doing so is deeply flawed.
Capitalism, for instance, is a vicious win-lose system that creates ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots.’ (So long, Horatio Alger.)
Athletes sometimes court death in pursuit of winning. (Football and ice hockey come to mind.)
Wars are waged on the premise that only one side deserves to win (often at all costs).
Women compete (still!) to be crowned as the superior specimen of their gender.
Politics offer a wretched system for picking winners, which we seem unable to improve. (!!!)
And: game shows. All of them. (Aqueducts for 500, Alex.)
Where art is concerned, however, I’m especially, well, concerned about all this picking.
Every year, Hollywood produces a series of loud, pomp-filled gladiatorial ceremonies ostensibly to celebrate the “industry” while stage-managing a parade of winners and publicly humiliated losers. (Behold the rehearsed rigor-mortis smiles pasted on their faces for the cameras.)
Millions tune into these shows because the schadenfreude is too delicious to pass up. Who doesn’t love watching people win or lose in real time with absolutely no personal skin in the game?
That’s as good as knowing in advance that you can get stinko-drunk and still avoid a hangover the next morning.
But the win-lose paradigm is so binary, it shuts out all the glorious ambiguities that make life (and especially art) interesting.
The fact is, winners win at someone else’s expense.
And I have to ask: Is that really necessary? What about the losers who never fully recover from rejection, who go on to under-perform the rest of their lives? What do we gain from that?
(Or do you prefer a world that’s only fit for winners?)
Do you really believe that the young starlet in her shimmering gown with perfect hair and money in the bank is not, deep down, quaking with vulnerability?
Fancy dress is armor, and nobody shows up for combat without protective gear.
Art, in all its forms, is arguably the most subjective human endeavor of all. How do we—and why should we—squeeze any of that down into little boxes marked “winner” or “loser” or even the dreaded “runner-up?”
If Hollywood-style awards ceremonies are so great, why don’t we organize them for every art form? Why not televise real-time awards for, say, performance artists, glassblowers, sculptors, painters, quilters?
I’ll tell you why.
First, because it’s no fun to bear witness when total strangers lose. You probably can’t name a great quilter or glassblower but you are familiar with a film actor or three. Those are the people worth watching to get their just desserts—or get robbed in the process. It’s a venal spectator sport hiding beneath a civilized veneer celebrating “excellence.”
Second: money. Art follows commerce. Winners sell better than losers, but that’s a sad commentary on how art is placed within our culture and our economy. Glassblowers aren’t living in mansions.
Oh, sure, money is tight these days (even in Hollywood) and nobody can fund every project or every artist, so we need to make choices and that’s why we have winners and losers.
That’s not really an explanation, though. More like an excuse. (Funding is a matter of choices, not laws of nature.)
The third key reason we’re not running around ranking all the art that’s made is that art resists neat categories. Every piece of art comes with its own intentions, is imprinted with the artist’s inimitable psyche, and defies meaningful comparisons with other works of art.
I wish we could just let art be…be itself.
What if the Oscars and such were only about celebrating the art forms associated with filmmaking—where everyone’s a winner and nobody leaves with a statue?
Would you watch?
Hmm, I thought not.
I understand that within any clubby industry, professionals are happy to honor peers and even competitors. Not everyone is riven with jealousy or discouraged from competing even when they lose.
But as an artist who supports other artists, I don’t want to fan the flames of self-doubt or even shame. The win-lose mentality pits us against one another, when art communities need all the support they can get.
Perhaps all I’m saying is, I wish we lived in a world where artists were all treated as winners simply because they’re artists.
Until then, I hope all the losers, everywhere, learn to see themselves as winners too.
I watched Lily Gladstone’s face when she did NOT take home the first Oscar for a Native American Best Actress. Her smile felt warm and genuine. She oozes depth of feeling. I sensed her appreciation for the larger picture, the privilege of being honored there. Still, she’s an actress. Emotion is her art.
Did the ancestor cry? To celebrate her great achievements, beyond the Zero sum game.
Well said Amy. I tell writers to never pay contest fees. Or pay anywhere to submit, for that matter. That's not how it works. They pay you.