That Community Feeling – How Connected are Artists in 2022, Really?

The artist Vincent Van Gogh was a fan of community. In 1888 he rented four rooms within the Yellow House in Arles, France, and worked for months to convert and furnish these rooms into a studio, aiming to build a space where fellow artists could live and work together.

The idea of a community is appealing, even to the weirdos and introverts amongst us. Although I refer to artists, it’s long been proven that people, no matter their hobbies, professions, beliefs or what-not, love feeling like they belong. We like sharing ideas and talking about our passions with like-minded peers. 

On Quora I joined a discussion on the importance of community for artists and this personal reflection by Teresina White resonated with me:

“While I studied art it was nice to work with others and think and talk about art all day, share frustrations, speak about ideas and concepts with people who understood. For me it is not the friendship component so much, as I am a true introvert and happy to be alone for days on end.”

The reason the idea of community is important to me is that as a European-based freelance filmmaker working on directing, producing and distributing my own films, mostly from my base in Zagreb, I often feel isolated. By isolated I mean that I don’t have a tribe here. This leads me to feeling out of touch with the industry and the indie film scene I claim to be a part of.

Don’t get me wrong; I know I am blessed to live in Europe, away from my birth place of Melbourne, Australia. And privileged. Working at Nexus Production Group, my own company that is self-sufficient and can shoot anywhere in the world (due to having our own gear and portable film methods) is something that makes me feel extremely grateful. 

However, for me personally, when I look out from my bubble and into the wider world of indie filmmaking I feel a slight disconnect. I don’t have a studio to go to where I can discuss my latest film idea, what I wrote today, or what films I watched that have impacted me and shaken my world view. 

Sure, we no longer live in a world like Van Gogh’s where the best form of long distance communication was handwritten letters. We have the internet!

But a majority of the filmmakers I interact with online within my social media film groups are based in the US. A significant amount reside in larger cities like New York or Los Angeles, and we all know that there is no shortage of opportunities to feel ‘connected’ in these film and TV obsessed cities. Passing a filmmaker, producer or an actor at the supermarket aisles in LA is as expected as finding bread in a bakery. 

That is not the case in my beautiful town of Zagreb. Neither was it the case when I lived in Malta for four years prior to the relocation. In fact Malta was trying, but they were still living in the past when it came to supporting indie filmmakers – there was no support. 

Right now I’m loving my life in Croatia, Zagreb, it’s very much a step up from my life as an filmmaker in Malta, which was very frustrating due to the traditional and undeveloped mindset most filmmakers and creatives have there. 

Zagreb is inspiring me in so many ways. I’m learning about the city's rich artistic history. I live in a 1930’s era building that was once the hub for craftspeople and is still the location of two fashion bespoke designers. My street is full of seamstresses and boutique shops and merchants. I’m even enjoying learning the language. 

When we were casting for our short film Goose and Gander here, applications came in from nearby countries, but we did have a couple of face to face auditions with actors. Ivan and I even had coffee with a British makeup artist who works here as a language teacher after she reached out and it was wonderful to talk about filmmaking. So finding more film people and film events in Zagreb is my mission.

Being born in Melbourne, Australia, a hub for creativity, which also has a small film industry that in my opinion (and in many others) suffers from ‘small poppy syndrome’, means I grew up with many artistic opportunities. I was part of the indie film community. I was blessed to help run a local film festival, which lasted eight consecutive years, and before the pandemic hit there was always a film event somewhere and loads of cinemas playing arthouse flicks. This is what I miss about Melbourne aside from my family – my filmmaking community and the buzz I got from being in a room filled with filmmakers.

Fast-forward to now, post Melbourne, post pandemic, I find myself feeling like I’m floating in the ether. It’s funny. I think I am producing some of my best work, due to greater knowledge and experience. I am doing what I want with my life. Plus I’m working through distribution steps for one of my films that I never knew were even possible only a year ago, and I am genuinely excited about the future of our work. But it is almost like I have nowhere and nobody to share my excitement with apart from social media groups and communities.   

And the internet is not the same as a friendly face live and in person.

One of the best feelings in the world is when you find your people, your tribe. When you are bouncing ideas off one another in a group setting and you get into the flow and you are feeling lifted and inspired. It’s almost like a super drug – you start feeling good about yourself and you have support. A room full of peers feeling things simultaneously with you. 

Does that make me old-fashioned in my approach to human connection and naive in my thinking? Perhaps I’m asking too much and I need a time machine to transport me back to the days of Vincent Van Gough and his Yellow House. 

Maybe I should be happy being in a position to make my films on my terms and just keep my head down, keep pushing forward? The world has moved online, people are busy and a Zoom chat with a potential partner or a film group to discuss how to progress your career is modern communication and mentorship now. So perhaps feeling like you are working in a bubble is simply modern creativity too?

Whatever the case, I am going to keep pushing to find my community in person. Like-minded peers sharing a drink together, talking film, bouncing ideas, supporting each other’s work and success. Hopefully, this community exists in Zagreb. If not, maybe I need to build my own Yellow House.

Written by Sarah Jayne.


References and further reading:

https://arcade.stanford.edu/blogs/vincent-van-gogh-and-community-function

https://artsengagecanada.ca/the-artist

https://bevycreative.com/blog/2019/10/15/why-community-is-important-for-creative-expression

https://www.quora.com/Is-a-community-important-for-an-artist-If-so-what-is-the-advantage-of-a-community

https://www.vogue.fr/fashion-culture/article/vincent-van-gogh-8-things-you-didnt-know-about-the-painter

https://evolveartist.medium.com/you-need-community-as-an-artist-heres-why-483707b37961