By virtue of mass production: Artists, fame and fortune
Entertainers used to operate locally. In medieval times and before, showmen and showwomen travelled from town to town, or from patron to patron, in order to perform their arts. They themselves rarely accumulated fame. Sometimes their plays, songs and dances did. On the social ladder they were below the level of town folk and nobility. Perhaps one step up from a lowly farmer.
In the renaissance opera singers and writers, painters and composers gained some level of fame as their art was shown not just locally, but internationally. Music, plays and paintings could be transported and copied more easily. The printing press, new modes of transport and more intense international relations were instrumental.
In the modern age religion, kings and queens dissapeared. However since the avent of mass production a single performance from one artist can reach the multitudes. The creative efforts and personality of a single person can now fill all of our hearts with awe, wonder, lust, jealousy and worship.
Does this make the artist special, more than before?
Do they really posses the virtues we instill them with?
Perhaps.
Some are perhaps great; intelligent, creative, nourishing, enlightening. Others are just average. Industry does one thing for the arts: selection. In medieval times there were many small bands of entertainers travelling the countryside, much like the many rock bands of today. Like those very best selected to perform for the king, industry selects the artist that is the best for your television screen. However, where selection presented to the king was based on merit, the selection for us today is based on economics. How much money can the star produce?
In the early days of rock, artists led the way, and producers followed. Those with the most grass roots appeal became the most produced. The entertainment industry was build on their labor. This however changed. The true industry was born. Factories now make artists. The modern artist is a product, or perhaps more accurately, part of a product. Based on the target audience, industry crafts specific products. These are tailored to our likes and wants, much like ikea furniture, apple iphones, and gucci handbags. The part that is formed by the artist can vary from large to small. Some artist might be merely a face, or a look, a style, with everything around them produced. For more discerning audiences, perhaps a measure of 'the real thing' is required to make a buck.
Artists today display the same range from great to average as in medieval times. However the industrial selection process makes it very hard to determine if a specific artist is 'great' or simply part of a great product.
Do modern artists deserve their fortune?
Medieval performers could only hope to collect from small crowds at a time. For some, their efforts were sufficient to make a living, others had to supplement by working as day laborers.
The performances of modern artists can be copied. This is the essential difference. The same amount of labor results not in one product, but in as many as can be sold. They do not have to go from town to town, their products can simply be shipped out in a box or streamed online. Ofcourse, concerts are still very popular, but industry makes its money from copying.
Modern artists do not deserve their fortune based on the amount of work they put in. The work of a plumber can not be copied. It would be ridiculous to suppose that simply because your labor can be copied, you deserve riches. Perhaps an ordinary salary would be more fair, just like any other industrial employée.
However you could argue that it's more like winning the lottery with a good deal of effort put in to improve your chances. Artists do work hard to get noticed, to be talented enough, or profitable enough to be picked up by the industry. In that sense, the riches are perhaps 'deserved' or better said: won.
In conclusion
Our modern gods are so by no virtue of themselves. Their fame and riches are simply a consequence of mass production. Their art is always at least one thing: a product.
