The Starving Artist: Chapter 19: Award Season Blues

This time of year makes me happy slash sad. The awards season brings with it 75% of the movies nominated for all those shiny sought after statues. The Golden Globes, SAG Awards, Oscars and every other academy, union and industry related organization watching screeners submitted for your consideration. Actors push themselves to achieve those career altering heights. Screenwriters, directors, cinematographers, make up artists, production designers and all those technicians working for the acknowledgement from their peers and foreign press that their work is valuable. Finger crossing and breath holding for a nomination. Followed by the long lead up to the night of recognition. The sad part is that no matter how artistic, inspired and groundbreaking a project is; it’s all still politics.

When the nominations are announced it is never a surprise that the fore runners are big budget movies with brand name directors and actors who’ve been nominated before. The runnings seem tight until you break it down. Which distributor has the money to promote their films? Is the movie timely to the the world’s state? Is Daniel Day Lewis in it? These factors and so many more play into the popular vote. What I want to know is where is Leonardo Di’s nomination? I’ll tell you, it’s in a dark corner with Tarantino’s director nod, all snuggled up in a blanket with Emma Stone- the only cast member from The Help to be snubbed. And don’t even get me started on Steve Buscemi, Steve Martin and Gary Oldman. Or the King of all things connected in Hollywood: Kevin Bacon. It doesn’t seem logical that a man connected by 7 degrees or less to every Hollywood heavyweight, middle weight, fly weight and sumo wrestler has never won an Oscar. But that’s politics for ya.

Every diplomatic nominee says being nominated is an honour, but winning is well that’s grand. The empty illuminated glass cabinet in my living room doesn’t mean I am betting on being awarded best anything anytime soon but it keeps me motivated. The true artist says the awards are not important. Hubby is convinced that the work must speak for itself. Agreed. I am proud of myself and the personal and professional improvement I have made this year. That could be enough. On the other hand I am not ashamed to admit I like recognition. Enjoying people quoting my blog back to me. Lapping up the laughter. Do I do the work for the acclaim, No, but a nod that my work is worthy of being called the best, feels great. Striving to be the best in your field isn’t shameful in any non-artistic industry. Imagine a surgeon who was satisfied with just getting a job. In an industry where most people slug along making commercials only to be unrecognizable, even to family, its nice to know you’re doing something right. Who could argue that being named the performer of the year would be amazing. Art is not something I got into for the money, fame or infamy. Art is not something that you can gauge, quantify or measure. The amount of art you produce can be measured, but quantity is not equal to artistic quality. To be setting the standard and excelling expectations should be what every person, performer or otherwise strives for. Imagine the feeling of accomplishment a lifetime achievement carries. So, this awards season remember to recognize the people in your life who are the best. For now my glass trophy case stands empty, but I am sure Hubby can find a Man of Steel maquette to fill the void:)

The Starving Artist: Chapter 19: Award Season Blues

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