Why small artists are happy artists

Analyzing The Menu (2022) and why artists should find joy in their humbleness.

I recently watched The Menu (2022) directed by Mark Mylod starring Anya Taylor Joy and Nicholas Hoult, a comedy horror film that satirizes and critiques elitism in dining and the culinary arts. I would highly recommend watching it—the slow escalation in tension and stakes was masterfully done, the character archetypes were interesting, the jokes land, and it wasn’t too scary (which, if you’re a wimp like me, is a positive).

I won’t be summarizing the film because that’s not the point of this post, so I’ll go straight into my thoughts.

Overall, the film made me think about the societal expectation of “success” in any creative field and how it’s almost the opposite path to take if you want fulfillment. Consequently, it made me believe that small artists should take joy in their smallness. Success means fame and money. It means scaling your business up, making connections with people in high places, and eventually becoming a person in that high place.

In The Menu, Chef Slowik went from flipping burgers to having a lavish restaurant on a private island that caters to those who can afford to pay $1,000+ to dine there once. (There is an irony to this completely inaccessible price point, as food is a humble, basic necessity of life.) Despite his high status as a celebrity chef—or rather, because of it—he loses his joy of cooking completely and consequently only attracts those who do not value his food for what it is. His diners are pretentious food critics, wealthy people who see his food as nothing but a status symbol, and mindless sycophants who lap up anything and everything he does. There is a loss of authenticity, simplicity, and joy that food and cooking should bring on both ends. This shows itself in the courses served throughout the film—dishes that are cold, unapproachable, and so very…artistic that they hardly look edible.

Artistic Delusion Elitism

There was one course in the film called the “breadless bread plate” that made me snort a little because I see this phenomenon a lot in the fine art space. Slovik describes bread as peasant food because of its humble origins. Since his diners are the furthest thing from peasants, he serves them nothing but a dish of dipping sauces. Anya Taylor Joy’s character, Margot (a working-class woman who is in attendance by chance) refuses to eat it and calls out the ridiculousness of it all. However, some diners go along with it, thinking it very deep.

This level of artistic delusion is so high that when the sous chef shoots himself in the head, half the people in the restaurant convince themselves that it’s only performance art—all part of the menu.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not concerned with how “Art” with a capital A is defined, but occasionally I do cast a bombastic side eye to paintings or performance art that seem to me bloated with pretentious symbolism or are just plain baffling. (I heard a rumor in my art school that a couple had sex for their Fine Art final…like…I’m sure they had a very artsy, symbolic explanation for that…but respectfully what the heck LOL.) I’ve learned not to judge fine art based on looks because art in the modern era is not always going to be visually appealing. I do judge based on story and the artist’s intention—some visually unappealing pieces genuinely have significant meaning.

Along with that, however, are pieces that are just kinda dumb. Exhibit A: Fountain (Duchamp) 1917 which is literally just a urinal, and is supposed to explore the concept of “What if anything can be art just because the artist intends for it to be art???” Okay, wise guy, this could’ve been an essay instead of a urinal. (As I’m writing this I realize that exhibiting the urinal proves his point better than an essay could’ve, and now I’m thinking perhaps…it is art? And explains why I’ve learned to judge art based on an artist’s intention? *Gasp*. You see, Duchamp is the reason why I no longer care to define “Art” because it’s truly such a headache.)

I often wonder if the artists who make these kinds of pieces are 1. being genuine, 2. being deluded/enabled, or 3. if they’re just trolling and waiting for a wealthy patron to drop unholy amounts of cash for art that is more of a status symbol than functional or appealing.

There’s honestly no way to tell, and that’s my biggest gripe when this type of elitism worms its way into creative fields. Us normies can’t help but roll our eyes at these “concepts” and “symbols” while some insist on their value. Like the “breadless bread plate”. Is it deep and we’re just too dim-witted to understand it? Or is it just dumb and completely impractical?

And most importantly, do the people making this type of art find genuine fulfillment in doing so?

Art to Audience to Artist Feedback Loop

Certain types of art attract certain types of people. The audience an artist attracts can in turn affect their art, depending on how the art is being received. (I hope that makes sense lol.)

It explains why Chef Slovik lost his simple joy in cooking the more “successful” he got—the people who can afford to eat his food do not appreciate his food for what it is, while the folks who did appreciate his food can no longer afford it. Later in the film, Margot criticizes Slovik for cooking without love, without warmth, and that even though she ate multiple courses, she’s still hungry.

I think success puts a ridiculous amount of pressure on artists. The bigger you are, the more your art reaches people you didn’t intend to reach, and the more indebted you feel to those people.

I honestly can’t imagine what Rebecca Yarros was going through when writing the sequels to Fourth Wing when it blew up. Production of book 2 was rushed so publishers could milk as much cash out of the series while it’s still in high demand, leading to a variety of errors in print quality and writing. I wonder: Did Yarros make story choices that she otherwise wouldn’t have made if Fourth Wing was only mildly successful? Was she rushed while writing the books? Does she have any regrets?

The Tortured Artist

Chef Slovik is the personification of a burned-out, mad, jaded, tortured artist, and his success has singlehandedly driven him to this state. I don’t think there are many people who can handle fame and wealth with level-headedness and grace, much less preserve their mental health. I, for one, probably can’t survive a day of this kind of “success”.

Side note, the “tortured artist” is an archetype I almost hate as much as the “starving artist” archetype. I truly don’t believe one has to be in mental turmoil to create “good” art—in fact, it almost seems counterintuitive. I think art and creation should either be about expressing joy or processing grief. Art should share your burdens, give you moments of peace, and bring you back to yourself. Why would we want to torture ourselves while making it? That’s dumb. (That’s just my opinion, though.)

The Small Artist

Sometimes it sucks being a small artist because it seems like we’re throwing our creations into a void and maybe (occasionally) getting pennies thrown back at us. I’m not ignoring the difficulties of being unsuccessful, especially if you want to make a career out of your art. But I think there’s so much joy in being a small, humble artist. You can make what you like and share that with a small group of like-minded people. You can dance like no one’s watching.

Societal definitions of success that involve fame and money at an unmanageable scale bring a lot of external pressure that will likely throw a wrench in your creative practice and mental health. We shouldn’t wish for breakout hits like Fourth Wing. Logically, we shouldn’t want them at all.

I encourage other smaller artists and creators to come up with their own definitions of success since we’re always bombarded with flashy ideals that often come with a lot of baggage, and that don’t always align with what we truly want. Personally, I wish for a modest sort of success. Just enough money to make a living off my art and an audience that truly vibes with what I do. I’d rather not be famous lol.

Wishing you all a gentle, sustainable success <3 Let me know your thoughts on this.