WHY MILLENNIALS DON’T BUY OUR ART: The Hardest, Harshest Reason(s) of All

There are many ways for our work to become a part of someone else's story, someone else's world, and someone else's journey.
There are many ways for our work to become a part of someone else’s story, someone else’s world, and someone else’s journey.

WHY MILLENNIALS DON’T BUY OUR ART: The Hardest, Harshest Reason(s) of All

WHY MILLENNIALS DON’T BUY OUR ART: The Hardest, Harshest Reason(s) of All

(11 minute read)

The next-to-last article in this series about why millennials etc.

We’re on the home stretch!

In my articles, and in the comments section, we’ve shared many fact-based, data-driven evidence about the different world millennials grew up in. It is simply different than the one we grew up in. EVERY generation faces the same challenge: New conditions, new “rules”, new obstacles, new solutions. The bad parts aren’t necessarily our fault, and it’s usually not their fault.

I also shared these setbacks and obstacles with one hope: To soften, and encourage us to change our assumptions and opinions. Only when we open up to seeing life from the other’s person’s point of view can we connect, with compassion and respect.

I knew there could be tremendous pushback against these thoughts, and there was. That’s okay. I will say it again and I will keep on saying it:

My art is not for everyone.

And neither is my writing.

Which means your work is probably not for everyone, either.

I’ll be honest. It’s hard to hear the anger and criticism these articles have generated. Just as it for all of us when someone walks into our booth, and then declares in a loud voice that they don’t like our art, and then proceeds to list the reasons why.

We may be angry, threatened, threatening, sad, resentful. These are human responses, normal responses, when we encounter something that seems harsh, insulting, frightening, upsetting, or baffling. It’s called a flight-or-fight response. It’s almost impossible not to feel these reactions when we experience something that seems to upend everything we thought was true.

But one of my superpowers in life, a hard one to use, but one that’s served me well is this:

We can’t change how we FEEL. But we can choose how we ACT.

This has helped me change my opinion about quite a few big issues in my life. It’s expanded my world view, opened new territories, and inspired me to write so I can share these insights with others who are ready and/or willing to consider them.

Not everyone will. But again, it’s their choice.

So take a deep breath, because today we’ll talk about the most important reason millennials don’t buy our art:

1)    The don’t like your art; or

2)    They don’t like you; or

3)    Both.

Harsh, I know. But take a deep breath, settle your heart, and read on.

Because these are also the reasons why all our non-buyers don’t buy our art, too.

This is the harsh reality of all the endeavors we take up in the world.

There will always be someone who couldn’t care less. There will always be someone who is lukewarm about our work. There will always be someone who doesn’t like it, for all kinds of reasons, reasonable and unreasonable.

But there will also always be someone who loves it. Even if they can’t afford it, or have no room for it, or they aren’t at the point in their life when they can act on their love for it. It won’t matter how good you are, nor how bad we are.

So if someone tells you/lets you know they don’t care for your art, what is your reaction?

Some people get cold and huffy. Some act out on their feelings. There are groups on Facebook for creatives to vent their anger at ignorant, insulting, clueless, gross visitors at fairs and shows. It can be fun to read these stories, because it helps us see this is a pretty common phenomenon. We are NOT THE ONLY ONES who experience rejection, not just from galleries, or juried shows, or guilds/leagues, awards, etc.

But when the stories get toxic, it gets harder to read. Because artists also share their sharp retorts, their indignation, their snarky thoughts about those visitors.

It’s okay. I get it. I love to blort with the best of them.

But what happens is, this turns a potentially powerful human connection into a battleground.

It’s not necessary to get into that fight. In my blog series and eBook “How to Get People OUT of your booth”, I discuss how difficult people can be challenging. But there are diplomatic ways to circumvent their behaviors, ways that help get us to our happy place, so we can deal more effectively with the people who DO enjoy our work.

Because the worst thing that can happen when we “let loose” with anger and bile is this:


In encounters where someone has said something rude, mean, whatever, and I meet them with serenity (YES, the serenity is a facade, I’m seething underneath. I’M HUMAN, just like you) other people in my space come up to me after, and say something like, “I can’t believe how kind/patient/powerful you were with that person!”

They now know that even if THEIR question is “dumb” or unintentionally rude, they will still be treated with respect and kindness.

In other words, it is SAFE to interact with me.

When we eagerly jump on others who we believe are behaving badly, there’s a side effect: We contribute to the toxic environment ourselves.

I was lucky. Early on, I held back from “confronting” and “challenging” visitors who were less-than-enthused about my work, (and my writing.) I had the good fortune to live in the same region as Bruce Baker, a former nationally-acclaimed speaker about how to strengthen and improve our creative work on many levels: Booth display, jury slides, signage and customer relations. He drew from his own wisdom gained from doing shows and fairs, but also benefited from other like-mined, experienced artists who shared what had worked for them.

The trick is to anticipate the questions and comments that might trigger us (the flight-or-fight thing), and practice our best response to them.

Because if someone asks us what we consider a “dumb question”, or says something insulting (whether deliberate or unintentional), and we respond with our “fight” reflex, other people who DO like what they see, will think twice before asking their own questions.

Because once people have entered our booth, once they’ve had a chance to look at our work and decide they kinda like it, once they’re ready to talk, they do the thing that will determine where we both go from here:


Maybe they can’t afford it – yet. Maybe it won’t fit in their living room – yet. Maybe it creates yearning whispers of what it might be like to pursue their own work of the heart.

Yes, maybe they’re so clueless about “good booth behavior” that they bungle the question. We can get really good with that, if we are willing to change our own attitude, and meet them halfway. (Or 3/4 of the way!)

If we can do that, a door opens. There is an opportunity for a rich exchange of questions and insights, a chance to either a) inspire a sale, if they’re ready, or b) lay the groundwork for future sales. At the last show I did, the second one after a total flop the year before (5 attendees for the entire day, no sales), a customer approached me and declared, “I saw your work last year, and I COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.” They bought a special item and companion piece for themselves, and pricey gifts for two friends. I could hardly operate my Square, I was so excited!

If I’d harbored resentment about the lack of attendance, if I’d sat around complaining within hearing of guests about the lack of sales, I could have squished that connection forever.

Instead I have a new collector who has already shared their love of my work with their friends, who may also consider buying my work. And share it with THEIR friends.

It all starts with staying calm. Leaning in. Curbing toxic assumptions and impulses. Staying focused on our work, the work we love, the work we make room for every day (if we can) in our lives.

If millennials are not your audience, let it go. We’ve shown that they have perfectly good reasons, just like ANY OTHER people who aren’t.

But if you are committed to blame them (especially for the reasons that are beyond their control, and NOT THEIR FAULT), believe me, they will know.

To all the people who commented with compassion and empathy, to those artists who (mostly) contacted me privately (I’m guessing because they didn’t want to expose themselves to criticism) who ARE MILLENNIALS, THANK YOU! Your experience either confirmed my research, experience, and thoughts, OR you were willing to reconsider what is going on. I’m grateful.

To all the people who disagree, please, as always, do what works for YOU. My advice and words are free, and therefore worth every penny you paid for it. :^)

Next week, I’m going to ask people whose work DOES sell for millennials, what has worked for them. Is it their style? Their subject matter? Their price points? Their willingness to engage and connect? I’ll do my best to collect the people who have already shared, and put that in the article for your convenience (and theirs.)

But I do want to leave you with this last story, which isn’t mine.

It’s my daughter’s.

First, both my kids were the inspiration for me to step up to the plate with my art. When my daughter asked if she could work booth with me at fairs, I agreed. It was a powerful shift in our relationship as she entered one of the most difficult part of her life.

She began her art collection with purchases from my fellow exhibitors, and continues to this day. You may find some valuable insights into millennials and their buying habits this Fine Art Views column from last March.

And here is the “spoiler” from that column:

“My daughter still wants something of beauty that came from another person’s hands, and heart, especially when she started to make and sell her own work.

As she browsed for an urn for the ashes of her stillborn child (Sam died 8 months into her pregnancy), she became frustrated with the same ol’ same ol’ look of them. Nothing felt personal enough, or fit the emotion of the event. When I suggested that a good friend who works with wood might make something especially for her, she lit up. (She found a maker on Etsy who resonated with her.)

This box will be in their home forever, and every time they see it, it will bring a bit of solace amid the sorrow. They may not know, or care to know, the story of the maker. But it holds their own story of this time, and that’s what matters.

I just spoke with my daughter again, and she added more about her purchase.

She wanted something unique, related to cherry blossoms, because that’s around the time of his birthday, when the cherry trees bloom here in Washington, D.C. She wanted wood because it’s warmer. She wanted something personalized and not mass-produced.

She wanted “something that fit us”, her and her partner.

There is appreciation for the maker, as it fits her needs as the collector.

The maker may have no idea of what my daughter and her husband were (and still are) going through.

When I hear people my age disparaging this age group, it breaks my heart.

And when I hear people with their own thoughtful, kind, compassionate, positive, uplifting experiences, my heart is healed.

So when you go to your studio today, when you make that time to do the work that is important to you, know that someone, somewhere, someone will be lifted up.

When you are discouraged because you can’t figure out why your art doesn’t sell, focus first on the fact that it uplifts YOU.

When you put it out into the world, know that someone, somewhere, needed to see it, for reasons we cannot even imagine.

And when you are healed, and share it, someone else will be healed too.

Next week, I’ll compile and curate the ways some of us have found a way to gain millennial collectors. There are some strategies that will work for some of us, but maybe not all.

My only goal was to encourage your heart to open up to new understanding, and new possibilities. To expand our rock-hard definitions and assumptions that not might only hurt others, but might also hurt ourselves.

And to echo the last words of that column I wrote, “So let’s open our hearts, and our minds, to these changes which time will bring.

There are many ways for our work to become a part of someone else’s story, someone else’s world, and someone else’s journey.

Keep hope in your heart, and be open to new possibilities. And be patient with yourself, as we all navigate these new waters.

Art is part of us, no matter what it is, no matter where, or how, or when we find it. Online markets can be just as powerful as in-person encounters, if not more. (Many in this age group never even think about going to traditional art galleries. Yet.)

And I will hope ALL of our art, mine, and yours, will be “found”, someday, by the people who will love it and enjoy it for the rest of their lives.”

As always, if you enjoyed this article, please feel free to share it. And if someone sent you this article and you liked it, you can sign up for more articles at Fine Art Views or more from from my blog by subscribing (upper right hand corner of this page.)

Author: Luann Udell

I find it just as important to write about my art as to make it. I am fascinated by stories. You can tell when people are speaking their truth--their eyes light up, their voices become strong, their entire body posture becomes powerful and upright. I love it when people get to this place in their work, their relationships, their art. As I work from this powerful place in MY heart, I share this process with others--so they have a strong place to stand, too. Because the world needs our beautiful art. All of it we can make, as fast as we can! Whether it's a bowl, a painting, a song, a garden, a story, if it makes our world a better place, we need to do everything in our power to get it out there.

10 thoughts on “WHY MILLENNIALS DON’T BUY OUR ART: The Hardest, Harshest Reason(s) of All”

  1. Beautifully said. I am on the fringes…creating my art for myself pretty much, but following this series has given me much to think about. It isn’t only about the art, but it is about something spiritually deeper…connection. Just thinking about the few pieces I collected, and there is a reason behind why I got each of them, whether the art itself connected, or the artist did. Look forward to the next installment.
    Frankly, I haven’t been here reading all the comments on your posts, but it is truly difficult for me to imagine why they would be negative. Perhaps I will bury my head in the sand on that one…I don’t want to know! I have looked forward to each essay you write on this subject. Thank you for being you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Carla, thank you for reaching out and sharing your experience, much appreciated! I’m glad it’s encouraged you to “go deeper” with the “why” about your own work. Good on you, and thank you for letting me know. I can moderate any toxic comments that show up on my own blog, but on the public platform I also write for, I have to wait until my editor deletes them. And some of them were awful! But I’m not here for those people, I’m here for folks like YOU. I’m glad you were here today! 🙂


  2. Good article! One I have always used that dilutes the emotion is: It’s really none of my business what you think of me or my art, or, ect….”

    Love your articles and your art!!

    Deb Witt Seeing Owl Studio Phoenix AZ

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Very wise words, Luann. I’ve had a similar experience with our annual art show. At one of my first, I exhibited a photo I was proud of — our small village passenger ferry pulling out from the wharf in the late afternoon (‘the golden hour’) on a cloudy day just as a ray of light burst through the clouds and lit up the boat. When i took the photo a group of us were gathering to rehearse for a choir concert at a stately home on the beach. There was a clump of wild orange daisies on the edge of the lawn and I shot the boat while lying on my belly behind these flowers.
    In the exhibition, on the opening night, the hall was crowded and a friend of mine with a loud voice and strong opinions, a fellow chorister, pointed to my photo and said, ‘That’s got to be Photoshopped! There’s nowhere along that shoreline where those daisies grow!’
    A few admirers began to move away from my work, muttering.
    I said to my friend, ‘Of course three are! Or they wouldn’t be in the photo. Those daisies are on the edge of the lawn at the big house. When I took that photo, you were there too. Sometimes it’s in what we see that’s different to other people. i wish I could Photoshop that well.’ She was unconvinced.
    I am still friends with this woman, but she was a frequent visitor to the exhibition and for the whole weekend, whenever she thought I was out of earshot, she would tell people that my work was Photoshopped. I had no sales that weekend. Whenever people told me that she was saying this, I said, ‘i wish I was that good at Photoshop.’ I told them where I had taken the photo, which, because it is private property, is not a place people would readily recognise.
    I have since sold my work in subsequent years. People have forgotten her words. Other photographers there use Photoshop openly. It’s not a big deal.
    Those wild daisies are now gone. They died off in the drought. Sometimes what we capture is a moment, one we can never get back. The one who buys our art is the one who is touched by it in that moment, who values something about it.
    Sometimes people who cannot afford our work will publicly disparage it, a sort of sour grapes response. I usually respond with a smile and say, ‘That’s okay. You know where to find me when you win the lottery, after you’re back from your world trip.’ A cheeky grin and a laugh can defuse a lot. I also sometimes place my work on loan in various local restaurants, as do other artists. I know diners comment, often very frankly. It’s a small town, the wait staff tell us things… and ALL that feedback is valuable, because it’s uttered in the knowledge that the artist is not there and they can say what they like. It is often the most honest opinion.
    If you try to create your art to please everybody, you end up pleasing nobody.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Helen, I believe photography is one of the creative arts that gets the most push-back from people who don’t understand what goes into it. I remember one talented photographer who was in our state guild that had an annual fair every summer, sharing some of the comments he got from people that were hurtful. One thing he said I’ve always remembered: “You can’t make a mediocre photograph great with Photoshop.” It’s even worse now that we all have a digital camera with us all the time. What you told those people was true: A great photographer takes a lot of images, hoping to find that one that captures something most of us never see or notice. Or a great photographer patiently explores and searches for just the right moment when something amazing happens, and captures it. In fact, it can be harder to take a great photograph than paint a landscape. A talented artist friend shared once that painting a landscape often means “dropping a tree” or “removing a rock” that’s just detracting from the composition. Painters can do that. A photographer can’t. Everything has to be there (or not!) just when they click the shutter. Your insights, and your responses, show that you are truly doing the work of your heart, and that you know your own worth. No one can take that away from you! Thank you for sharing your story today, and your last line is further proof of your wisdom!


  4. Luann, I salute you for your unscripted acts of kindness when some broken person criticizes your work. Kindness is something you practice every day, so it is available to you in tense moments. I wish I could post a photo here, but let me tell you about the photo. Trump has just arrived at the White House before his inauguration. He blows up the steps leaving his wife behind. The Obamas, who we could imagine are having challenging feelings at that moment, step up to the plate. Each comes alongside Melania and each has a hand on her back, guiding her up the steps. How does Luann perform unscripted acts of kindness? How did the Obamas, without a moment of hesitation? Because that is who the three of them are: kind people with compassionate hearts. Kind people who daily practice kindness. Be like Luann. Be like the Obamas. Even in tense moments.

    Liked by 1 person

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