An
Artist's Life
by S. Masar and A.Y. Chilton
S.M.: Athan Chilton earns her living
as a department secretary for Dance at the University
of Illinois. But to say that this is what she 'does'
would be to reduce to a single dimension what is in
fact a multidimensional life and a unique artistic
quest.
A.C.: Writing about my 'artist's life'
is no simpler, I find, than living it. This is not
to say that there haven't been many satisfactions.
There have, or I'd have given up long ago. Let's just
say that I am no stranger to compromise and frustration.
I have been involved with the arts,
in one way or another, all of my life. As a child
I drew incessantly. In high school, my paintings won
nominations for Hallmark Awards. I considered a career
in the fine arts. But alienated by art school and
by the 'high art vs. low art' controversy prevalent
in the late 1960s, I dropped out of school and made
a kind of career (a lot of hard work for comparatively
little remuneration) as a professional musician, writing
and performing my own music. I did not seriously reconnect
with my other artistic abilities until after I left
the music business in my mid-30s.
I had been fascinated by jewelry and
beadwork for as long as I could remember. An interest
in collecting and carving amber and setting amber
pieces into jewelry led me to explore beadwork: to
learn new and old techniques of off-loom beadweaving
and construction, and to develop unique combinations
of materials. I've immersed myself in the sense and
significance of jewelry from around the world, and
I've expressed myself in varied styles that have grown
out of my technical and design studies and my love
of cultural diversity and periods of history as reflected
in ethnic jewelry.
In tandem with my jewelry work, I have
been active for some years in the Society for Creative
Anachronism, and have also studied Egyptian classical
dance. These activities have put me in touch with
varied groups of people who have suggested to me ideas
for further directions in art.
I have had some professional success
with 'Firefly Jewels', and have taken part in art
shows whose juries accepted my work, in situations
where the shows were held close enough to home that
I could travel to them without the need to take much
time off from work. Success has been slow, but I feel
that I am growing as an artist.
"So where," you may ask, "does
the compromise come in? The frustration?"
Simple. No matter what I do, some part of my life
suffers. If I take time off work, I have to face the
unhappiness of my employers. If I neglect the jewelry
business, I suffer. I have to balance the requirements
of a 'steady' job, with its retirement plan and medical
benefits, against the needs and rewards of the 'artist's
life.'
I have reduced the conflict between
these twolives, both of which seem essential to me
(until that happy day when an unknown benefactor leaves
me a few cool millions!), by choosing work that I
can do, given my temperament and my inclinations,
without completely compromising the energy and time
I need to develop my art. This has not been easy,
and it is not a perfect solution. After a long day
in an academic office spent coping with the myriad
problems of faculty, staff, and students, I sometimes
find it hard to discipline myself to go directly to
my basement, where my flameworking torch and kiln
reside. I sometimes have trouble picking up the restringing/redesign/repair
work I have done for many years for Calico Jewelry
in Lincoln Square, or even the personal beading project
that awaits an inventive solution to make it a special,
one-of-a-kind piece. Then
there is the literature crying to be examined: a new
book on flameworking glass, the latest Ornament or
Lapidary Journal magazines, e-mail from a fellow glass
beadmaker in Indianapolis. When was thelast time I
sat down to read fiction without feeling a twinge
of guilt about the work I wasn't doing? I can't recall.
On the other hand, when I'm hard at
work and a new design is revealing itself to me, the
compromise seems worthwhile. I still want more than
ever to find a way to make my art business grow to
the point whereit can start to pay my bills instead
of just paying for itself. I would love to give up
my 'steady' job and simply do art. This is the goal
of most artists, but it doesn't come easily. I will
keep workingand studying; learning and creating, in
the hope that I will be able to find a wider audience
for my work, and in time will be able to retire from
my job and attend full time to the call of the bead!