From the November 2026 issue of Apollo.
How to live as an artist? I ask this not as a question of lifestyle but of survival. How to structure an existence in which it is possible to make art, but also feed, clothe and house yourself? After five months touring the UK talking to thousands of artists in studios, print workshops, arts centres and rooms above pubs, this question has emerged as foundational.
Over the last quarter century, London’s gallery scene has flourished and the ‘art world’ has become synonymous with the ‘art market’. It is imagined to be normal for an artist to have commercial representation and a life sustained by sales. This is the model young graduates look to. In truth, only a small proportion of artists have commercial gallery representation and those that do may still be unable to support themselves. (Just because work is shown does not mean that it will sell, no matter how grand the gallery.) Which returns us to the question: how to live as an artist?
While it is seldom discussed or acknowledged, most artists in the UK have salaried jobs, which they balance with their art practice. To make more time and space for art, they apply for grant funding, usually from one of the four national arts councils. The funds are oversubscribed (one veteran estimated her chance of success as one in ten; others regarded this as optimistic). The application process is lengthy, complex and laced with jargon. Many artists take weeks to complete the forms and might pay for assistance in doing so to improve their odds. The decision-making process is slow – currently between two and four months for Arts Council England project grants – and the period covered by individual grants short.
Few artists relish filling out application forms. For the less bureaucratically inclined, the process saps time and spirit: much work for no reward. Those artists possessed of the requisite bureaucratic ninjutsu have a far higher chance of success and of repeating that success in subsequent applications. In the ChatGPT era, many turn to AI for support, be that in generating a full first draft, ensuring criteria are met or checking grammar and punctuation. I don’t know whether arts council employees use AI in turn to assist with the enormous workload of sorting and sifting applications, but I worry that we might reach a situation where applications written by AI are being processed by AI, all in the name of supporting human creativity.
The current system has created a population of artists alienated from the structures and institutions that are supposed to support them. Scarcity of resources – and the competition to access them – pitches artists against one another rather than fostering the sense of community necessary to catalyse interesting grassroots projects. The short duration of grants and project funding and the long process of application and decision-making, condemns even those successful to an unsettling cycle of fluctuating and unpredictable income.
Things don’t have to be this way. Towards the end of my tour, I spent time with artists in Ireland and Norway. Earlier this year the Republic of Ireland reported the outcome of its Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) pilot scheme, under which 2,000 artists (randomly selected from a pool of eligible applicants) were allotted €325 per week for a three-year period. Crucially, BIA could be spent in any way – for living as well as art-making – and, unlike benefits payments, did not need to be repaid if an artist made money. While results of the cost-benefit analysis have been well-publicised – a €1.39 return for every €1 invested – the scheme also transformed artists’ quality of life. Naturally, there was more time to focus on creative work, but artists also had stability, which in turn had a positive effect on mental health and on life decisions ranging from investing in a warm coat to starting a family. BIA is one answer to the question of how to live as an artist. The programme is now permanent, operating on three-year cycles, with no artist able to apply for two rounds of BIA back-to-back.
In Norway, artists and their projects are supported by schemes including government grants for artists that offer modest financial support for periods of up to five years for early career artists, and up to ten years for those more established. There are other delights, including subsidised local studios and an obligation to invest in art as part of public building projects.
Neither of these schemes is perfect. In Norway, artists from migrant backgrounds complain of how the funding system favours members of specific professional associations. In Ireland, the randomised selection process can lead to disgruntlement and jealousy. Economically and socially, Ireland and Norway are very different from the UK, but I feel that the crucial difference is not one of population size, or of wealth, but of cultural attitudes toward art and artists. While commercial galleries operate in both Ireland and Norway, their numbers are small. Art is understood as an asset that is enriching to all, not only to those who acquire it as a commodity.
In September, Scotland committed to piloting its own BIA scheme by 2031. Here’s hoping the other nations of the UK follow. The status quo is weighed down by bureaucracy, wasting the time of artists and administrators alike and rewarding above all those well versed in navigating it. It does not serve the wider culture well.
From the November 2026 issue of Apollo.
