Wait, am I recording? You are listening to Stuff About Things, an art history podcast. Alright, let's bango. Hello and welcome to Stuff About Things, an Art History Podcast. My name is Lindsay, and I have now been doing this podcast for over seven years. Long enough that I now have my PhD in art history. The episode that you are about to listen to is from the earlier years of The Pod. If you enjoy it, and I hope that you do, you will probably like every other episode in the podcast catalog. And if you don't, I do hope that you'll consider giving some of the newer ones a listen. But for right now, I'm really glad that you're here, ready to learn some stuff about some things. Past Lindsay, take it away. Hello and welcome to episode 3 of Stuff About Things, an art history podcast. My name is Lindsay, and I am very excited to be in your ear today to discuss the mystical beast that is art history. Thank you for being a curious little monkey and clicking on this episode. I really appreciate you being here. Today's episode is a follow-up to last week's episode, episode 2, in which I attempted to explain why art history is important. So if you haven't heard that episode yet, I would encourage you to pause this episode and go listen to that one first. Or, you know, go listen to it after. I am not in the business of telling people on the internet what to do, because we all know how that turns out, and it usually isn't well. Today's episode is also the final foundational episode before we jump into our more specific content-based material. And stick around because at the end of this episode, I will be revealing my topic for the next one, which I will post in about two weeks. Exciting! Exciting. Speaking of exciting, I have what I think is very exciting news. I found out this morning that the podcast is now live on iTunes. So you can go there and subscribe to it and have it with all of your other podcasts that you listen to. And you can, of course, continue to listen to the podcast on SoundCloud. The episodes will be on both platforms, waiting patiently for you to come and listen to them. If you would like, you can also go to iTunes and rate and review the podcast. I would really, really appreciate that. Opening myself up to criticism from strangers on the inner webs. I'm scared. For this episode of the podcast, I wanted to answer another question. A question that is as well known to me as my own face. So, what are you going to do with that? The question, what are you going to do with that, is one that a lot of students get, especially those students who decide to make themselves a martyr to the art-based humanities in the 21st century. Hello, that's me. Whether you study English, history, art history, Russian literature, you will inevitably face the question, what are you going to do with that? And that can be a hard question for some of us to answer. With the exception of the Russian literature people, I'm pretty sure that they are all training to be spies. I clearly chose the wrong career path. I could have been a spy. The reason that it's a hard question for some of us to answer is because the careers that we want aren't necessarily the ones that we will get straight out of university, whether you are an undergraduate student or even a PhD student. These careers involve years of climbing the ladder. And we don't want to tell people, oh yeah, I want to become this, but first I need to do this 12-step process. It's just a little complicated. Now the question, what are you going to do with that, is an interesting one. And that's because there are a number of meanings that could potentially be wrapped up into that little single packet of word vomit. It really all depends on how the question is posed. So for the sake of demonstration, here are the three most common ways that I have encountered the question. What are you going to do with that? The first is this.
SPEAKER_00Oh wow! Well what are you going to do with that? This version translates into I'm interested in what you're telling me, but I have no clue what you plan to do with that degree. Tell me more. Or, more often, I love you and I want to support your life choices, but please, dear God, tell me that art history has some kind of career options available.
SPEAKER_01Mom and Dad. And then there's number two.
SPEAKER_00Uh huh. Well, what are you going to do with that? This translates into Interesting. I doubt that you'll ever be able to turn this into something worthwhile, but I'm open to being convinced otherwise.
SPEAKER_01And then you have my favorite.
SPEAKER_00Oh, well, what are you gonna do with that?
SPEAKER_01To which I politely respond, geez, Aunt Carol, I don't ask you what you plan to do with your potato of a fourth husband. Interrogate your own life choices, Carol, not mine. Just kidding. I don't actually have an Aunt Carol. But I think we all know an Aunt Carol type. I certainly do. Jokes aside, 90% of the time the people who ask you, what are you going to do with an art history degree, are well-meaning, no matter how they might happen to phrase the question. And it is a fair question. Art history isn't exactly the most logical degree choice for anyone who wants to be a normal human in society, with luxuries like, I don't know, job security, consistent healthcare coverage, normal working hours. I mean, let's not get too picky. We chose a kind of weird degree, and people have questions, and that's okay. The question, what are you going to do with that, is phrased as such because people aren't necessarily asking what kind of career options that you'll have available to you, though that is certainly a potential aspect of the question. Other people want to know how you plan to be a productive member of society using a degree that you or someone else again paid tens of thousands of dollars for. Other people want to know how much money you are going to make because money to many people equates to success. And believe it or not, art history is not the field that people go to to get rich or die trying. It's more like never get rich and die trying. Lee, depressing. And what I want to do with the rest of this episode is to give you all an idea of the career choices open to someone like me who chose art history over spy training. Mistake. Maybe in the future you can even refer your family and friends to this episode when they inevitably ask you, so what are you going to do with that? Aunt Carol, this one's for you. There are actually still a lot of careers that you can pursue with a degree in art history. The problem is that in our field, just like in any other, we follow the rules of supply and demand. So even though there are a lot of jobs that we are qualified for, not many of those jobs are open. And there's simply too many art historians competing for a limited number of jobs. To have even a chance in hell at one of those jobs, most art historians need an advanced degree from a prestigious university or some seriously good insider contacts, usually a mix of both. It certainly doesn't help that most art historians with a job don't retire until they are about, I don't know, 107, which can stir up a little bit of resentment in a young cat like me, who just desperately wants a job. And while I might resent them for that, and they should not be offended, I resent most people, it's in my nature. I also don't blame anyone for holding on to their job for as long as possible. When you are willing to put yourself through the very special purgatory that is graduate school, you usually love what you do and you want to do it for a long time. You also probably didn't get a real, somewhat okay paying job until you were in your early 30s, meaning that you need to work longer in order to catch up on your retirement savings. All I can say is that if and when I finally get a job, the first thing I'm going to invest in is a skincare routine. Because I plan on looking like the cryptkeeper by the time anyone can pry that job out of my cold, dead hands. Now, I'm not trying to be a Debbie Downer about this. This is the career that I chose for myself voluntarily. I don't know why else you would choose an art history degree. No one is threatening you to do it. Become an art history major or walk the plank. Well, apparently he is. My goal is to simply be honest about the current state of the job market for art history people, which is, you know, challenging but not hopeless. Which, now that I think about it, could probably also be the motto for my personality. Oh. First, let's talk a little bit about what kind of careers are available to people like me who either have or will have an art history degree in the near future.
SPEAKER_00Well, maybe if you focused a little bit more on your so-called dissertation rather than this podcast, you could be on your way to one of them so-called jobs.
SPEAKER_01Shut up, Carol. In terms of career options, most art history graduate students, like myself, have two tracks in mind: academic work or museum work. And most people know which one they want to go into. Unless you're me. I'm just confused. In terms of museum work, many art historians want to become curators. Now, curators are very fancy people indeed. They're the people whose job it is to take the collection of art that a museum owns and display it in a way that is meaningful, a way that uses the space efficiently and just generally makes the works more understandable to visitors than it otherwise would be. Curators also do things like plan exhibitions, and they also work very closely with donors, aka rich people, to ensure that the museum has the artworks, but also more importantly, the money, that it needs to not just survive but thrive. In the curatorial department, there are also lesser beings, such as research assistants, who help curators with their work, and poisonal assistants, who manage the curator's schedule, or as a curator would say, a schedule. They're very fancy. Other museum positions might include working for the public engagement sector, which works with schools and other programs to arrange events for the community. They are also the lovely people who are responsible for coordinating the, shall we call them packs? The packs of screaming kindergartners that just run around with their sticky little hands and they just touch everything, you're just like go away. So maybe that's not a good job for me. But they also do really great things. Like, for example, at the St. Louis Art Museum, they hold regular tours in American Sign Language for hearing impaired guests who just want to enjoy and understand the art alongside everyone else. And I think that that is awesome. Another position within a museum is one in the registrar's office, which is the office responsible for overseeing and keeping track of the works of art the museum owns, where they are in the museum at any given moment, and dealing with the logistics of gallery changes, exhibition loans, and a bunch of other very cool stuff. There are also conservationists who maintain the physical aspects of a work of art. Now, conservationists usually have an advanced degree in both chemistry and art history, because they're the smart ones who thought that they would get a science degree right off the bat. I am fascinated by conservation. If you ever get the chance to go to a conservation lab, do it. It's such a cool gig. Just them, the art, and the chemical fumes. There are then, of course, some more minor but still extremely important positions within a museum environment, from working in visitor services to being a gallery guard, who are both the bane and butter of an art historian's existence. They keep the art safe from the public's grubby hands, while also, unfortunately, keeping it safe from us. Always trying to get up close to it, smudging it with our noses and breathing heavily upon it. I've gotten yelled at quite a few times, and I don't regret a thing. Seriously, though, just don't touch the art. Get as close as you can without getting arrested. In terms of academic work, art history graduate students usually aim to become what's called a tenured professor, which basically means that you are number one a good teacher, but number two, you have jumped through so many flaming hoops that the university cannot fire you unless you do something real, real bad. As a professor, you teach courses, duh, but you are also expected to do your own research, publish books, and partake in just the general bureaucracy of running a successful department. So you might take up a role on a dissertation committee or become an undergraduate advisor to the sweet little baby angels who have decided to become art history majors. Another academic job that someone with a fresh out-of-the-box PhD in art history will probably have at some point or another is referred to as a postdoctoral fellowship, which essentially means that you are a professor with training wheels. You have your PhD, you are fully capable of being a teacher, but you need to get in some work experience before you go after the holy grail that is the tenured track job. In the meantime, you attempt to survive on a barely better than a graduate student budget and work like crazy to turn your dissertation into a book. Because if you thought your dissertation was over, you thought wrong. It's never over. Then there is the slightly less appealing position as an adjunct professor, which is not to say that the job is unimportant. Believe me, I respect any and all teachers. I just mean that the adjunct professor is like a soul in purgatory. The university acknowledges that you are competent enough to teach on their campus, but they won't offer you a full-time position. For the record, I have had some amazing adjunct professors in my life, and quite frankly, I've had some pretty crappy tenured professors. Not at Wash U, of course. Which is my way of saying that you should judge a professor not by their title, but by their teaching. And that is all I will say about that. Finally, there are non-academic positions that some people pursue on university campuses. For example, one of our former PhD students now works as the coordinator for the LGBTQ students on campus. You might also be interested in positions as part of the administration, whether that's a career counselor or maybe even a dean. You see, I told you there were options. There are also jobs for art history people outside the traditional realm of the museum or the university, such as working in an auction house or as an editor for a publication. They might even work for a nonprofit organization that represents the local arts community, or another job, like my friend who consults with major corporations on the designs of their offices in order to keep their workers happy. Now, to me, that sounds like she spends her days hanging motivational posters on the wall with, you know, a kitten in a tree, and it says, hang in there, Satan. But I am confident that she does way more than that.
SPEAKER_00But Lindsay, who cares about any of these jobs if they aren't even open?
SPEAKER_01Thanks, Carol. That actually brings me to my next point, which is the bright spot in all of this. Many of the people that I know have been killing it in terms of getting jobs lately. I have friends and colleagues who work at major museums in New York, DC, and even Naples, Italy. I have a friend who is moving to Hong Kong to teach art history at an American Study Abroad program. I have a friend who is a tenure track professor in Baton Rouge. And these are all people who graduated from non-Ivy League schools. Really good non-Ivy League schools, but non-Ivy League schools nonetheless. They got jobs because they worked hard, networked their butts off, and got to know the right people in the right places. So, yes, it is really, really difficult to make a good living with an art history degree. But it isn't impossible. And that's all I need to know to pursue the career that I have wanted to do since I was 18 years old.
SPEAKER_00But Lindsay, isn't that a little naive?
SPEAKER_01I swear to God, Carol. I swear to God. Yes, maybe that is a little bit naive. But I am also a person who works really, really hard, and I love what I do. Why the heck else did you think that I started this damn podcast? At some point when you are an art history person, you just have to accept that you will never make bank. But you will make money doing what you love to do, and I don't know how many people can say that. And yes, I am privileged enough to be that idealistic, but I'm a cynic in most other things in my life, and I really don't want to add this to the list. As long as you temper your idealism with a little realism and what you dang butt off, I think you should be just fine. And I will be fine as well. So bite me, Carol. In the end, there is a ton that you can do with a graduate degree in art history. It won't be easy, but it is possible. In the meantime, if anyone asks me, so, what are you going to do with that? I will say that I plan to look at beautiful things, drink some $4 wine, and record an episode of my podcast. And I will be happy as a damn clam doing it. And that is all I have on this particular subject for the day. However, I would like to scoot us over to Gus Corner for the week. I have had reports that Gus is more of a diva than ever, and he is revolting against my mother's recent acquisition of new furniture, which has meant that Gus's throne, also known as his favorite armchair, got removed from the living room premises in order to make room for new chairs, on which Gus is absolutely positively not allowed to be on. Luckily, Gus is approximately the same color of the chairs and has called upon stealth camouflage to attempt a couple of sneaky snoozes on the chairs while mom isn't paying attention. Shh, don't tell her. Gussie is also enjoying the recent foot and a half of snow that got dumped on Wisconsin this weekend. He has to engage in four-paw drive on his morning walks, as my dad likes to say. As always, I encourage you to go to the podcast's website, stuff about things podcast.wordpress.com, to see the bonus Gus content of the week. This week, Gus has once again taken over four works of famous art. Johannes Vermeer's The Girl with a Pearl Earring, Rene McGreet's This Is Not a Pipe, James McNeil Whistler's Arrangement in Gray and Black Number One, also known as Whistler's Mother, and Titian's Man with a Blue Sleeve, the final two of which feature yours truly as well as the Furry Beast. Yours truly being me, Free Beast being Gus. As you'll see, we've got a little bit of gender bending going on this week, but it's fine. Great art doesn't need to be binary. Besides, I get called Sir quite a bit these days. I like to think it's because of the fine layer of peach fuzz on my upper lip, but one can never be too certain. In other news, I ate two tubs of frosting this week, which might be a new record. This concludes our third episode of Stuff About Things, which is exciting. Not only because I have now convinced my parents that it is indeed possible for me to eventually get a job, but also that means our next episode will be our first content based episode. As such, I have decided it is only fitting for me to discuss one of my favorite works of art ever, which is one that most people probably haven't heard of.