Like clockwork, every couple of weeks or more, I see artists lamenting the need to promote themselves in the current fractured media environment, mostly complaining about how much time it takes. I get it (and I’ve written about it on this blog before). Let’s reframe that perspective—both by reminding ourselves of what really existed when a few media outlets held more power over the arts, and by pushing back against the learned helplessness I see all around us when it comes to connecting with audiences.
Composer Gabriel Kahane recently wrote a piece in The Atlantic remembering a golden era when poetic arts listings and a few well-placed reviews did all the work of connecting art and audiences. He is “resentful” that he needs to be on social media to promote himself. He doesn’t like the short form content style; it seems like he liked it better when others explained his work to audiences, but now he needs to do it himself. “Cultural journalism once created that context” that he now needs to provide on his own.
I read Kahane’s piece with some nostalgia of my own. In the late 1990s and early 2000s as a college student and young theater professional in New York City, I’d just open the Village Voice and pick performances and exhibitions to attend nearly every day. I’d trek all across the city and see whatever I had picked out. I saw great shows and terrible shows. I saw things I didn’t understand, but loved anyway. It shaped my taste, sharpened my eye, fueled my conversations with peers, and filled my 20s with unforgettable experiences.
But here’s the problem: that “golden era” where media did all the work for artists never really existed.
Artists have always had to promote themselves. The forms have changed. It used to be mingling at parties, dropping off headshots at casting offices, mailing manuscripts, asking friends for introductions that opened opportunities. Now it’s emails, social media, and message boards, but the work was always there. (Party-going and networking still play a big role.) Artists have always complained about it, but the successful ones did it anyway. The really successful ones found a way to enjoy it and use it to gain control and curate their own careers.
The past wasn’t so rosy
A less fractured media landscape once made it easier for certain artists to reach audiences because the business model of newspapers, magazines, and broadcast media worked in their favor. But it was a double-edged sword. Those same critics who “discovered” you could just as easily shut you down with a bad review. Misinterpretation and frustration were baked into the system. The history of the performing and visual arts are filled with examples of shows that closed shortly after opening because of a bad review – many from The New York Times in particular.
Kahane praises Steve Smith, the music editor of Time Out New York during the time that Kahane was coming up in the New York music scene. Smith understood Kahane and gave him a boost through including him in the listings and capturing the essence of Kahane’s work in just a few words.
That’s great—but it also reveals the fragility of relying on gatekeepers. Artists like critics when critics like them. Would Kahane be longing for listings if Smith hadn’t been on his wavelength?
Social Media Isn’t the Enemy
Kahane says he dropped off social media for a year and a half until his manager begged him to get back on Instagram because “the phone has stopped ringing”. And Kahane says he now only does it reluctantly because he feels it doesn’t show the depth of his work. I respectfully reject the inevitable shallowness that Kahane sees in social media.
With social media, artists can present themselves on their own terms. You choose the images, the words, and the framing. You can create short, compelling pieces for TikTok or Instagram that point audiences to a deeper experience on your website, newsletter, or curated playlist. You can explain your work at any length you want.
Is it perfect? No. People will still interpret you however they want. But isn’t that better than having one New York Times review make or break your show? Isn’t that a connection with your audience?
I don’t buy the argument that promoting your work means you have to dumb it down or compromise your values. If you truly want people to experience your work, you have to help them find it. The real question isn’t whether you can market yourself without losing your soul. The question is: do you actually want to share your work with people—or do you just want to make it and keep it in your studio?
The Purposes of a Review—Then and Now
When I think about the value of reviews or curated listings for audiences—not artists or academics—there are five main purposes I see:
- Discovery – Introducing something new to audiences.
- Advice – Helping them decide whether to see it.
- Shaping taste/interpretation – Offering a lens for understanding.
- Providing context – Situating the work in a broader social, historic and artistic conversation.
- Archive – Documenting that it happened.
Social media does at least the first one brilliantly. Discovery is baked into TikTok’s For You page, Instagram’s explore feed, and YouTube’s recommendations. If you want to reach more people, buy a sponsored ad. There are no gatekeepers.
That said, as much as I am a booster for using social media, I recognize that the algorithm is its own double-edged sword. If you only ever engage with what the algorithm feeds you, your taste starts to mirror itself, narrowing instead of expanding. Audiences still need to be curious—willing to click past what they already know and like—to find something surprising.
But here’s the thing: Time Out New York listings were an algorithm too. They were filtered through an editor’s taste, biases, and limitations. At least now you can influence the feed yourself—and artists can reach people far beyond a single city.
Be your own critic
I’d like to see artists reframe their marketing and promotion from a chore to something that they see as part of their practice. Instead of letting a reviewer define you, define yourself. Those five purposes of a review? You can do them yourself—on your own terms, in your own voice. If you don’t care about being seen, fine – stay off social media. But if you want people to engage with your work, you have to put in the effort.
If you want poetic arts listings like the old Time Out New York, make and share them yourself on a website and social media. That is what Smith is still doing with his Substack. Now he doesn’t need a publisher or editor or advertisers. If your intention is to help artists get discovered and connect audiences with work outside the mainstream, there is literally nothing stopping you from doing that. There are no gatekeepers here.
The golden era of getting art out to people and returning value and connection back to artists isn’t behind us. It’s right here—if we’re willing to use it.
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