Learning from the Elephant Artists

Ruby, an elephant in Phoenix, Arizona, makes more than $100,000 a year selling her paintings. Inspired by her success, elephants no longer able to get jobs in the logging industries of Asia are working as painters and musicians. In 1998, former Russian dissident artists Vitaly Komar and Alex Melamid opened the first elephant academy of art in Lamphang, Thailand, after working with an elephant in a zoo in Toledo, Ohio.

The Asian Elephant Art and Conservation Project inspires me to create a support system for myself as a human artist in the early twenty-first century. My elephant colleagues teach me about preparation of materials, use of time, emotional support, and marketing.

Each elephant artist works with a trainer, who prepares the materials, hands the artist the brush, makes encouraging comments such as "Euughhaa, euughhaa" and "Well done!" and cleans up after the session. Discarding the manic notion of hiring my own cheerleader/cleaner (who, I thought, would be costly and difficult to train), I opted instead to fill both artist and trainer roles. For painting, get the canvas out on the workspace. Make sure the paints are easy to reach, the brushes clean and ready. For writing, make it simple to start the word processing software. For video work, know where the camera is and have tapes and batteries ready to go. When I shop for my four-year-old daughter’s shoes, I look for “easy-on, easy off” Velcro fastenings. I’m making my art materials “easy-in, easy-out,” to remove any cues that might suggest to me that making art is too much trouble.

The elephants can paint every day. They don’t have to work other jobs, transport their kids, buy groceries, or get the laundry done. I like to think my varied responsibilities make it challenging for me to follow their lead, but I’m probably just whining. Elephants work quickly, finishing a painting in just ten minutes. I could paint for ten minutes each day. I could write for ten minutes each day. I might not be able to produce great art in those short sessions, but imagine the creative muscles I would be developing. Imagine the piles of raw material I would be generating that could later serve to inspire or be refined! Even if I can’t manage a daily discipline, some discipline is certainly in order: scheduled blocks of time reserved for creative effort can’t be a bad idea.

Elephant artists work as individuals in a group setting. For a while, I painted the same way; several painters shared studio space. We worked alone, but had painting companions. Often, we noticed the colors or subject matter of our colleagues’ work influencing our own. Now, working alone, I want to find ways to give myself some of the gifts inherent in shared spaces. I can talk with other artists about their work, their process, and their choices. I can visit museums, galleries and studios. I can take classes. I can do all this in person, which is certainly preferable. I can do it by reading, too, which is not as good, but will do in a pinch.

Visiting with other artists will also give me those encouraging noises the trainers provide for the elephants. It’s not easy to get family members to make such sounds; art is often too baffling a practice. Questions other artists ask me about my work inspire me to work more. Being challenged about my choices encourages me to improve my technique.

The marketing efforts supporting the elephant artists are breathtaking. Less than a dozen artists are supported by a multinational organization headed by a board with more than 20 members, including authors, artists, museum directors, critics, and business people. One of the board members, art historian Mia Fineman, has written profiles of each artist with positive critical remarks (useful for press releases) along the lines of “the brute physicality of his working class background informs much of his painting. Bird approaches a blank canvas with a potent combination of exhilaration and fury” As a group, the artists have a web site that includes profiles, work samples, and a link to their benefit auction, where minimum bids were $300.

I’ve recently redesigned and updated my web site. I’ve started an e-mail newsletter to inform people of my creative efforts. The idea that is jumping up and down, waving its hand to be recognized, is to create my own board. Finding and meeting people who are authors, artists, museum directors, critics and business people would be an education in itself. Getting to know them well enough to ask them to be on my board would be an astonishing exercise in courage. Defining my goals clearly enough to say to people: “here’s what I want to do; how can I do it?” would be unquestionably powerful.

Inspired by the success of their colleagues, elephant artists are (metaphorically speaking) spreading their wings: a CD of elephant musicians playing drums and harmonicas has sold more than 5,000 copies, quite respectable for a private label offering. Like the elephants, I want to move forward with enthusiasm and boldness.