Commentary on "The Artist"

As someone who used to think I wanted to be an artist, the poem "The Artist" is particularly interesting to me. 

As short as the poem is, Ferlinghetti enables me to get a very distinct vision of this gallery opening. I've often thought about the charade of art and how subjective it all is. Sometimes I feel that it seems that to make a living off of art almost devalues the whole purpose of art as an expression of self. It almost seems like it denigrates the integrity of the artist as capitalism pervades into expression of the soul.

The alliteration of pairs of words such as "critics and crickets," "docents and donor classes," and "tide of tinkled voices" make this poem very appealing to me.

Ferlinghetti seems to be implying that the event of the gallery opening has overshadowed the value of the artist's work and simply provides for an opportunity for the upper class to have a party.

The ultimate phrase in the poem, when the artists asks "Is this what I am painting for?" evokes feelings of questioning, doubt, and regret. The artist at once looks at his surroundings and sees that his works are just one group in the series of gallery openings this gallery will hold. He's just one night's entertainment. After drinking all the wine and cheese, the people "sheathed in silk & Christian Dior" will just go on with their daily lives. He has not made a major impact and this forces him to question his life.

Ferlinghetti's ending lines to this poem are fatalistic in that he seems to be, if not sarcastically, insinuating or allowing for people to give up and give in to drinking the day away. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this, but I can relate to this feeling of being unsure of if what I'm doing in my day to day life matters at all. Am I even doing anything productive? Will I look back on my life with pride?