KICKSTARTER AND PSYCHEDELIA 

Save psychedelia! If I had a car, I would print that out on a tye-dye sticker and slap it on my bumper. Aside from the carefree, fuzzy image conjured by the Summer of Love, it’s the era’s music and art that really does it for me. Hendrix, the Doors, Sly and the Family Stone, among others high on LSD and good vibes. Aside from tacky prints available in smoke shops and spiritual stores, it seems as though genuinely beautiful psychedelic Art Nouveau is fading away. 

Recently I was thrilled to find, on a casual search through the crowdfunding platform, Kickstarter, that there are aficionados of psychedelia like myself that are actually trying to keep this art alive! Niche. I stumbled upon a project by Thomas Negovan, founder of the Century Guild, a museum and gallery specializing in Art Nouveau and Cabaret from 1880-1920. Really niche.

The project page is for Negovan’s book JUGENDSTIL Vol 2 art book Psychedelic Art Nouveau from 1896. The art book features illustrations from nineteenth-century Europe in the jugendstil or “youth style” of the time. According to Negovan’s Kickstarter page, Art Nouveau “married mythologically-themed folk art and frenzied whiplashes of linework to make a previously unseen approach that is best described as psychedelic.” This is why this art style was so fondly adopted by gig promoters and psych bands of 1960s San Francisco. 

I like psychedelic art, and I like art books, so I will support JUGENDSTIL Vol 2 art book Psychedelic Art Nouveau from 1896. I donated $25 USD and should receive a paperback copy of the book assuming the project reaches its goal (it has surpassed its goal amount nearly 8x). I’m thinking, “This is great! I’ve got to clear a spot on my coffee table now…” But I’m excited, and it’s got me wondering, could crowdfunding be the future for niche art collectors like me?

An article by Ellen Loots et al. published in the Journal of Cultural Economics focuses on new forms of artistic finance in Web 2.0. The new digital economy has given rise to new ways of finance and funding. Loots and her team write, “The production and distribution of cultural content have dematerialized, the competition for consumers has intensified, and funding via platforms and crowd-sourcing mechanisms has increased.” Crowd-sourcing mechanisms like Kickstarter are new tools independent creative underdogs can use to back their projects without relying on big media outlets. 

According to the Journal, “Crowdfunding may be a superior method of financing the production of artistic goods and services that have public-good attributes (generally considered of less value by commercial investors) and to attract funders who are widely differentiated in terms of their willingness-to-pay.” I would have to agree, as I ready a place for my psychedelic paperback on my coffee table. But, it’s important to stay critical of this platform for crowdfunding.

Firstly, they are collecting data. And sure, most, if not all, online companies are anyway. But my biggest apprehension about this method of creative patronage is the question of commodity. At what point can art just be art for its own sake? 

This is to say that with crowdfunding like I did with Negovan’s book on Kickstarter, I made an economic decision. Sure, I love and greatly appreciate psychedelic art, but I made the financial decision to pledge $25 on the premise that I would be receiving a copy. A kind “if you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” decision. I must compare this to the artistic patronage of giving a donation after feeling emotionally rocked upon leaving an art museum. 

In which instance am I funding for the sake of the art? In the case of JUGENDSTIL Vol 2, I think it’s safe for me to say I viewed the artwork as a commodity. Something I should be able to pick up, adore, place on my coffee table, and pick up once in a blue moon if even ever again. That is when art becomes commodified. Could crowdfunding reshape art into something that needs to be a product rather than just… art?

I remember a trip I took to the Minneapolis Institute of Art one summer. It is a massive collection, absolutely free, and jaw-dropping in its diversity. I had a great time getting lost in its labyrinth. One of its displays, which I was immediately pulled to, was psychedelic rock posters from the 60s and 70s. I gawked for twenty minutes at the detail given to the, maybe, six posters in their collection. I remember that moment fondly. Those posters were not for sale, not even as reprints in the gift shop. I couldn’t take them with me to be hung up or placed on a coffee table. But I saw them, and they were beautiful for just being as they were.