Written by Sylvain Chan
Artists at LSE are like a pearl in an oyster amongst the sea of suit-wearing, career-obsessed finance bros. While the imagery of the latter may be an exaggeration, it does raise questions about why the creatively inclined attend such an intense, specialist social science university. In conversation with four different artists at LSE, this spread aims to investigate whether and how they retain their creative passions amidst the tidal waves of academics.
Why did you end up going to LSE?
There was an undercurrent belief among the interviewees of security in academia versus instability in the arts. Serena echoes her father’s words: “only the top 1% of the art world actually succeed in life”, which renders art as an unsustainable long-term career. Though Luoyi comments that the ‘starving artist’ trope is a “misconception”, its dominance in mainstream narratives, coupled with cultural stigma and the current state of the art industry, does not exactly act in its favour.
Serena expands on her father’s statement, stating that despite her French mother’s encouragement (having attended fashion school), her father considered “education [as the] only tool for social mobility” – an anxiety grounded in having grown up in rural communist China, compounded only by what Oliver describes as the stubborn, uncontestable nature of “traditional Asian beliefs” surrounding academic prestige. Recognising the privilege in attending a private school that her parents worked hard to pay for, Serena further felt she should be striving for “a good return on investment” by taking advantage of the opportunities academia opens up. Oliver expresses a similar filial piety, saying that “I do want to provide for my parents because I really appreciate the stuff that they’ve done despite their nagging” with a more ‘traditionally academic’ degree like law, promising job security to achieve these goals.
Serena additionally reflects on the significance of employment security in an era of AI proliferation, which, in her opinion, has stunted artists as they “have to adapt to AI” irrespective of their ethical and economic concerns. For Jessica, she comments on the necessity of being an ‘all-rounder’ if you want to get into game design: that needing to know how to 3D rig, illustrate backgrounds, and beyond was “too intense”. This underscores how creatives are doubly pressured to conform to overwhelming expectations just to be devalued by AI.
Another fear all the interviewees conveyed was that attending art school would corrupt their passion. Alongside dejectedly feeling they would ”just be average” or “not good enough”, they also cite various ‘art school horror stories’ as deterrents. Though Serena often feels envious of her home friends who ended up going to art school, she sympathises with their cutthroat environment where art becomes a matter of “finishing assignments on time rather than expressing themselves creatively”. It can also become suffocating when “art is everywhere and defines your career and personality”, as Jessica puts it. Art is constantly scrutinised and arbitrarily judged by a curriculum, or cheapened in meaning upon being monetised. Recognising the “detrimental impact” art school would have on her self-esteem, Luoyi sees her decision to study psychology at LSE as a healthy “combination” of her interests and academics in getting to “understand people and the mechanisms behind creativity and sustainability”.
How do they continue to find ways to enjoy their passions – both within and outside of LSE?
As a certified “internet kid”, Jessica describes a thrill from participating in online fandom communities and drawing fanart for the “sheer love of the game”, despite no longer being interested in being a ‘big-name online artist’ as she once aspired towards. She roots this passion in self-fulfilment: striving for a sense of pride in “bringing something that I couldn’t have done before … into a tangible result”.
Serena, however, reflects on her wavering relationship with art. Having put art aside to focus on her conditional offer to LSE, art has since played a less prominent role in her life. Where Jessica is able to find time for art as a way to “relieve stress” during bouts of intense revision, Serena finds that what was once a way to “decompress” has since become obsolete upon entering university, having evolved into spending time with friends, going on walks, and playing games. Now equipped with a different support system, she did not find the need to “retreat back into art” as she once did. Moreover, Serena finds the absence of a constant like-minded community hard to motivate creativity.
Luoyi similarly struggled with adjusting to a predominantly non-artistic environment, missing how accessible the weekly studio sessions her high school had provided were – “the hard part is making time for it … because it’s no longer built into your curriculum”. As such, she turned to exploring London and extracurriculars as stimuli: from visiting art galleries, to attending a short course on life drawing at the University of Arts London, to taking on marketing roles within societies. Oliver expands on this by lamenting how his skillset essentially prepared him to become a valuable asset in university clubs, jokingly describing LSE’s social sciences environment as his “saving grace” as he may not have been able to compete as strongly in UCL with its more diverse artistic talent.
Now the LSESU Visual Arts Society’s president, Luoyi shares a sense of gratification in being able to meaningfully contribute to “creating … a creative atmosphere” at LSE, hoping to help those in the same boat as her.
Are you satisfied with your decision?
Quite conclusively, all the artists said they were satisfied with their decision to attend LSE. In their eyes, pursuing an academic degree did not inherently mean abandoning the passion they had grown up with. Instead, it was a welcome challenge in adaptation, building networks of support, and seeking creative outlets.
This reassuring ethos reminded Jessica of an interaction she had with a banker at a careers panel in sixth form, who shared he played in a band on the side, having “made enough money to live comfortably so [he] can do whatever [he] wants”. Oliver’s predicament appears as the dawn to the ‘rockstar’ banker’s sunrise: “even though the hours are long, and the readings are tough, … for the sake of [preserving my passion for] my hobbies and sanity, this is the most logical and long-term solution I could have found”. While Serena says she often thinks about the “what ifs”, she ultimately delineated that “art school is not a necessity”. However beneficial accessing industry connections or understanding fundamentals in a structured way may be, she argues it is always possible to enter the art realm regardless of one’s background, whereas attempting to branch out of the art realm is much more limiting. Taking a more realist approach, Luoyi believes that there “[isn’t] any point in regretting decisions [I’ve] already made”; finding happiness in pursuing interesting academic research while still having “the opportunity in time to do creative activities”.
To those whose heart and brain are in limbo, Serena recommends “[taking] the path that opens the most doors for you right now… [as you] can always pursue art down the road”.
