Reframing Fear and Art (Part 1)

The Scream, Edvard Munch, 1893

“Courage,” Henri Matisse once said, “is essential to the artist, who has to look at everything as though he were seeing it for the first time.”

The concept of fear in art — and the necessity of courage and boldness in overcoming fear — is a recurring theme.

We are told that artists fear the blank canvas or the empty page. They fear they don’t know what they’re doing. They fear they aren’t good enough. They fear failure. They fear what others think.

Within this framework of fear, courage and boldness are touted as the solution. We are encouraged to think of ourselves as brave for following our passion for art or for the simple act of creating something authentic. And we are offered all sorts of advice, books, and classes on overcoming our fears and making courageous, fearless art.

There have been times when artists have truly had much to fear.  Shostakovitch, for example, lived in fear of imminent arrest for composing music that did not conform to the nationalist style of Stalinist Russia. Likewise, artists who continued to create art that did not conform to Hitler’s concept of good art — a conception based in classicism that excluded almost everything that was modern at the time — did so at their peril.

There are undoubtedly artists today who also experience genuine fear, either because of the circumstances in which they live and work or because of how they experience and react to the world.

But those cases aside, I think that the concepts of fear, courage, and bravery are overused in the art world. Is it really fear that must be overcome when breaking out of your usual color palette, being bold with your mark making, or trying something new that your audience might not like? Is posting something that might not be perfect on Instagram really an act of bravery?

For some people, this mindset of fear and the need to boldly gather courage to overcome it may help motivate them to get to work and to continue working and sharing in the face of doubt. But for many others, the omnipresent yet vague admonition to “be fearless” is less than helpful. It is time to rethink and reframe fear in the context of art.

The Problem With Labels

Fear is a strong primal emotion that arises when we feel threatened in some way. Fear can serve us well by steering us away from danger and triggering the release of hormones like adrenaline that can help us fight or flee. It can also paradoxically be debilitating by leaving us paralyzed or feeling helpless.

But some of the emotions that are labeled as fear are actually something else altogether.

When starting a new painting and staring at the blank canvas, I’m not afraid as much as uncertain or overwhelmed with possibility. When I think about pushing myself out of my comfort zone by agreeing to do an artist talk or by trying something that might fail, I’m not afraid as much as uncomfortable with not knowing what I’m doing. When I think about sharing my work I’m not afraid as much as worried that I will look stupid or that my work won’t be liked or accepted.

Does it really matter whether we label something as fear or discomfort or uncertainty or vulnerability?

Categorizing and labeling things tends to mentally lock them in place and this can have a huge impact on how you try to solve a problem. If you label your mental state as fear, this suggests certain solutions — courage, breathwork, cognitive behavioral therapy to name a few. But if you recognize and label your mental state not as fear, but as lack of clarity, feeling out of your depth, or uncertainly over how you will be perceived, a host of other solutions present themselves.

Reframing Fear

A “fear in art” mindset has a certain allure. It makes it seem like what we do as artists is so much harder than what most other people do and, for some people, that can be motivating. We can almost hear the background music spurring us toward courage and bravery and we can imagine an outsized satisfaction for facing our fear head on.

But a fear mindset isn’t particularly useful for artists beyond this possible boost.
In fact, lumping feelings like uncertainty, confusion, and vulnerability under the single category of fear limits the way we think about dealing with the problems these mental states can cause.

Reframing the fear mindset can help us identify a wider range of tools and techniques to help us when things aren’t going well — advice that will likely be more useful than “be courageous” and “stop caring about what other people think.”

If fear of the blank page is reframed as uncertainty about how to begin we can focus not on courage but on concrete ways to help us make a start and techniques to help keep us going.

If fear of not knowing what you’re doing is reframed as confusion or lack of knowledge or feeling out of your depth, it’s easier to identify ways to move ahead by reducing confusion or dealing with the discomfort that can result from having imperfect information.

If fear of what other people think about you or your art is reframed as feeling vulnerable, the solutions are more about finding ways to reduce vulnerability rather than simply trying to stop caring about what other people think.

These new framings might not be as catchy as fear, but their lack of drama is more than made up for by their usefulness.

Creativity is not the dominion of the brave. You don’t have to be fearless to be an artist.

Interested in Continuing the Discussion of Fear and Art?

My next three posts will look in more detail at ways to reframe fear in art and the tools and problem-solving strategies these new framings suggest.