Stop Waiting to Be Picked: Australia’s Art Prize Obsession and the Death of Creative Independence

Australia has a problem; an addiction, really. An addiction to art prizes. Every year, artists line up for judgment like contestants in a talent show, submitting their work to the same narrow gatekeepers, hoping this time they’ll be picked. The Archibald, the Wynne, the Ramsay - glittering symbols of validation that promise prestige but often deliver something else entirely: dependency.

It’s pick me culture dressed up as cultural celebration. A system that whispers to artists: you’ll matter when someone important says you do. And that message seeps deep. It erodes confidence, reshapes ambition, and teaches a dangerous lesson - that art is only legitimate if it’s sanctioned.

But when did artists stop being rebels? When did the creative class become so well-behaved, waiting politely to be noticed instead of kicking down the door and building something of their own?

Art prizes can be intoxicating. The glamour, the coverage, the cash - all real, all seductive. Yet they also create a quiet hierarchy that warps what success looks like. Suddenly, the worth of your work is determined not by its impact, honesty, or innovation, but by its proximity to the winner’s circle. You start making art that might win, not art that matters.

The tragedy is that this passivity seeps into the broader culture of Australian art. Instead of fostering entrepreneurship, it breeds inertia. Artists stop experimenting, stop taking risks, stop thinking like creators of their own destiny. They wait… for representation, for inclusion, for permission.

But history tells a different story. The Australian modernists didn’t wait to be picked; they formed collectives, hired halls, and made their own exhibitions. Street artists took over walls long before councils commissioned them. The best art movements were built by those who ignored the system entirely.

It’s time to reclaim that spirit. To return to entrepreneurship in the arts. Not the sterile business kind, but the raw, generative kind. The kind that says: I’ll build my own platform. I’ll create my own audience. I’ll find new ways to bring art into the world. Because the future doesn’t belong to those who wait to be chosen. It belongs to those who choose themselves.

We live in an age where artists can sell directly, collaborate globally, and reach collectors without middlemen. The tools are there. The only thing missing is the mindset. Entrepreneurship isn’t selling out; it’s sovereignty. It’s an act of rebellion against the notion that your worth depends on being selected.

Art should be about liberation, not approval. About carving out your own territory in a world that loves to box you in. The real prize isn’t a cheque or a headline, it’s the freedom to define your own path.

So stop waiting to be picked. Start picking yourself.