Redefining Success in Art

Video essay version — for the more visual among you.

Success in art should be an internal measure, not an external one.

Too often, societal norms and industry expectations impose external metrics such as fame, money, or recognition as the hallmarks of success.

But is that what art is truly about? For those of us who create, isn’t the act of creation itself the ultimate reward?

The goal in art should not be about “winning.” In fact, there’s no game to win or lose when it comes to creativity. Instead, the focus should be on longevity—continuing to make art for as long as you live.

This perspective reframes success as a lifelong commitment to the process of creation. You make art because you need to, because the act itself brings you joy, clarity, or a sense of purpose.

But let’s be honest: the lines between internal fulfilment and external validation often blur. It’s easy to get caught up in the chase for acclaim or financial security, especially in a world that celebrates visible achievements.

This conflation of artistic success with external markers has shifted the focus away from the personal, internal satisfaction that art provides.

Artists Who Lived for Their Craft

Some of history’s greatest artists embody the ethos of creating for the sake of creation.

Pablo Picasso, for example, famously worked until the very end of his life. On the night before he passed away at the age of 91, he reportedly held a dinner party where he declared, “Drink to me, drink to my health, you know I can’t drink anymore.”

This phrase inspired Paul McCartney to write the song “Picasso’s Last Words (Drink to Me),” released by Wings in 1973.

That evening, he sketched his final works. Picasso’s insatiable need to create underscores a life dedicated to artistic expression—a life where the act of making art was an end in itself.

Similarly, Japanese artist Hokusai (best known for The Great Wave off Kanagawa) worked prolifically until his death at 89.

Although it is often used in tsunami literature, there is no reason to suspect that Hokusai intended it to be interpreted in that way. The waves in this work are sometimes mistakenly referred to as tsunami (津波), but they are more accurately called okinami (沖波), great off-shore waves.

In his later years, he humbly stated:

“If only Heaven will give me just another ten years… Just another five more years, then I could become a real painter.”

Even after decades of artistic achievement, he saw room for growth and evolution, emphasizing his devotion to the craft over any external measure of success.

Ludwig van Beethoven, despite profound personal challenges, exemplified the same relentless dedication to his craft. Losing his hearing in his 30s might have been a devastating setback, but for Beethoven, it became a new frontier.

He went on to compose some of the most celebrated works in classical music history, including his Ninth Symphony, completed when he was completely deaf.

Beethoven’s devotion to music, even in silence, reveals an artist who lived to create, pushing the boundaries of his medium until the very end.

Toni Morrison, the Nobel Prize-winning author of Beloved and other masterpieces, also lived by this principle.

Writing well into her late 80s, she once stated:

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

For Morrison, the act of writing was one of freedom and necessity—a means of fulfilling a creative and cultural need. Her relentless storytelling reminds us that success in art often lies in the act of contributing something meaningful to the world.

Leonard Cohen, poet, songwriter, and performer, embodied this ethos in his final years.

Despite declining health, he continued to create until the very end, releasing the haunting album You Want It Darker just weeks before his death in 2016.

His final works grappled with mortality and meaning, proving that for him, artistic creation was not merely a career—it was a way of making sense of life itself.

French-American artist Louise Bourgeois also created art well into her later years.

Known for her sculptures and installations, she remained active in her studio until her death at age 98 (ninety-eight!!!).

Bourgeois painting in 2009. To me, this is one of the clearest images of success I’ve ever seen.
Photo: Alex Van Gelder.

Bourgeois once said:

“Art is a guarantee of sanity.”

Highlighting how deeply intertwined the act of creation was with her identity and well-being.

I often tell my girlfriend Marta that art is my personal form of therapy, it literally keeps me sane.

These artists’ lives remind me that success in art is less about reaching a destination and more about the journey.

Their days (weeks… months… years…) were marked by a relentless pursuit of artistic growth and personal fulfilment, not by the accolades they received—though those came, too, as an inevitable by-product of their dedication.

The Reframe

Redefining success in art means rejecting the societal pressure to achieve external validation and instead embracing a more personal metric.

It’s about staying in the game, about making art because you have to, because it’s who you are.

The only true measure of success is your ability to keep creating—to remain engaged, curious, and committed to the process for as long as you live.

Look at the examples of Picasso, Hokusai, and Bourgeois. The greatest triumph in art is not a moment of fame or fortune, but a lifetime of meaningful creation.

So, that’s my definition of success in art—to keep playing the game, day after day, until the very end.