I’m an artist over 60, and I’m struggling to build a network and get opportunities in the field. I’m intimidated by the young, sophisticated, and ultra-connected crowds. Is it too late for me to fit in?
Let’s get the clichés out of the way from the outset: You’re never too old! You’re only as old as you feel! You’re young at heart!
Take whatever positive platitude you want about aging, and it applies here.
All that said, building a career in the arts gets harder as you get older, doesn’t it? Learning new technology doesn’t come easy, and when you’re older, small tech mishaps on social media can make it seem like you’re out of touch. When you’re young, those same mistakes often read as deliberate choices. Thank you, cultural bias!
Some artists make it part of their charm. I once tried to contact Fran Lebowitz for an engagement, and her agent told me she didn’t use email or own a cell phone. All that did for me was reinforce her personality as someone who lives life as she sees fit.
But Lebowitz already had a loyal following built long before Instant Messaging existed. You're building yours now, at an age when you have less energy for the opening circuit than you did in your 20s.
The good news: Openings aren’t the only way to make connections. If you live in a major city center, seeing art in the afternoon makes networking really easy. Dealers and curators often have more time to talk when they aren’t hosting major events. If you view art during the afternoon, then you can go to fewer openings. It doesn’t mean you should omit them, but you can choose to go far less frequently.
Start with smaller, more intimate events like artist talks and panel discussions. Bring a friend. Connecting with others is easier when you have a partner!
Approach technology the same way — something to figure out with another artist. It’s fun to use social media when you start with the assumption that it’s an experiment rather than a dreaded necessity.
Finally, resign yourself to being scared about doing some of this stuff. It’s not easy to take on tasks outside of your comfort zone. That fear usually means you’re doing something right.
All these strategies help. But if you're still feeling intimidated, let's talk about what might really be making you uncomfortable, because “ultra-connected” can be interpreted in different ways. Sometimes it means people who are genuinely well-connected through years of engagement with art. But sometimes it's code for people with money and access.
And as much as we like to say that the art world offers unusual class mobility, I haven't seen it play out for many artists. Many harbor antagonistic feelings towards those with wealth, making the networking required for mobility difficult. And that cuts both ways — the sustained political and cultural attack on the poor and middle classes occurs because many of those with wealth don't believe we deserve what we have.
Extreme wealth disparities create discomfort. Most artists feel out of place at art fairs because they’re made for rich people, which most of us are not.
Some 15 years ago, I had an experience that taught me how to feel at ease, even when experiencing large class differences.
I received an invite to a trunk sale from a wealthy artist for whom I’d written a catalog essay. It turned out that the sale took place in the home of a wealthy diamond dealer whose wife had been a Bollywood star and model. I showed up smelling bad because I had been walking in 100-degree heat. Everyone else in the room was a former model.
Anyway, I took one look at the penthouse’s most defining feature, a building-sized window overlooking Sixth Avenue in Manhattan, and had to excuse myself. I was that uncomfortable.
Later, I told my boyfriend (now husband) what happened and asked him how he dealt with this. “Eventually, you realize it’s just money. Then you stop feeling so uncomfortable,” he told me.
There’s nothing profound about that insight, but I decided I needed to believe it to move my career forward. Removing that anxiety from my life changed it for the better, and I hope it will do the same for you.
There are a lot of meaningful relationships we can build in the world, and deciding who’s worthy of attention based on wealth and status alone prevents us from building a life of meaning and purpose.
That mindset shift helps, but I can’t pretend it erases discomfort. Think about common worries in your 20s: you’re not attractive enough, too inexperienced, and how any networking looks like gross social climbing. When you're older, those anxieties just shift: Now you’re intimidated by the fresh energy young people bring, or that they might see you as irrelevant. The specific worries change with age, but the core anxiety stays the same — that our intrinsic value doesn't align with our culture’s values.
People believe in a lot of toxic shit you don’t have to buy into. Yes, ageism is real, sexism is real, and they affect you in ways you see and ways you don’t. But belonging isn’t about eliminating all the objections others might have about who you are. Rather, it’s accurately assessing what you bring to the table, so those objections don’t matter. Because, yeah, you’re not young. But so what?
