Art Lessons From Meeting Shirley MacLaine
While working with a student on a current prompt called the “elevator pitch” for our DIVE DEEP PROGRAM, an interesting discussion unfolded…
Elevator Pitch - Imagine you’re in an elevator, and you have a 2-minute ride to explain what you do as an artist. You want to make a lasting impression—so what do you say? In the pitch, we aim to uncover the core of the 'why'.
First, I advised what not to do. “Don’t just say, I paint my personal experiences and make them universal, or I am an abstract painter working in oils.”
Instead, I urged, “Start with your core 'why.' Tell me about the passion that fuels your use of oil paint.”
As abstract painters, we often take refuge behind the veil of ambiguity, preferring to let the nature of form and shape speak for themselves. But truthfully, as a mentor, it’s my role to challenge you to dig deeper and say, “Tell me more.” It’s not about gimmicks; it's about genuine authenticity and vulnerability.
Then, I shared a personal story to illustrate why your pitch is so important…
Movie The Apartment 1960
As a young adult, I idolized the actress and writer Shirley MacLaine. Her storytelling, especially about her personal and spiritual journey, captivated me. At the time, few in mainstream media or Hollywood spoke openly about metaphysical experiences. Mostly though she was just a badass—the only woman among the Rat Pack entertainers of the '40s and '50s, which included Sammy Davis Jr., Dean Martin, and Frank Sinatra.
I always had this sixth sense that I would meet Ms. MacLaine someday. And I did—twice! Well, sort of…
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Fast forward to my late twenties. As I deboarded a plane from Los Angeles to Mexico City, there she was in the baggage claim—Shirley MacLaine. Instead of approaching her for an autograph like most star-struck fans might, I comically hid behind a pillar, stalking her from the shadows like a scene from an old movie. It was a cringe-worthy moment. Her friends arrived, and as they hurried her away, she kept pointing back at me—the mortifying stalker.
My second encounter was a slight improvement. In a doctor's office, I found myself face to face with Ms. MacLaine. We made small talk, and she even seemed a bit intrigued—until she asked, “So, what do you do?”
My moment had arrived to make an impression. But what did I do? I did the exact opposite of what I teach in my practice. I blundered, froze, and blew it.
All I managed to say was, “Ummmm… I’m an abstract painter.”
Silence ensued.
She gave me that signature Shirley MacLaine stare and dismissively said, “Oh yeah, you're an abstract painter? You and everybody else in Santa Fe, New Mexico.”
Those two minutes were my chance since she quickly announced her plans to head home, watch the Golden Globes alone, and drink a martini. True story.
Internally, I screamed, “Wait, I'll go with you! I have so much more to say.”
I can’t promise you won’t freeze when you meet one of your idols. But you can be prepared by practicing your two-minute elevator pitch. Eventually, practice saying to yourself, “Tell me more!”
Be brave, but more importantly, be kind to yourself during this process. Explore your words deeply, and allow your pitch to evolve and grow over time.