Art, Fame, and the One-Sided Deal: How to Protect Your Art from Celebrity Entitlement

Events & ExperiencesIndie Creativity & Business

Jun 16

A celebrity walks up to your booth. They smile, tell you they love your work, and strike up a friendly conversation. You’re flattered, and maybe even a little starstruck. Then it happens: the faux praise and the subtle hints. You start to get the vibe that they want your art for free.

No mention of payment. No offer to promote. Just this vague, entitled sense that their fame is currency enough. And you know what? They actually believe that, because we’ve let them believe it. You’re supposed to feel honored to give them your work.

But here’s the real question: what do you, the artist, get out of it?

Let me tell you a few real stories from my own experience.

Years back, I was a guest at Wizard World Las Vegas. I was placed next to a former Marvel character. We didn’t talk much. He was focused on fans, which I understood. But I did talk to someone from his camp—his daughter, I think. I told her how Marvel Man had inspired me to become a special effects artist.

After sharing my story, I asked if I could get a photo with him. “Sure!” She replied. This is a common perk when you're part of celebrity row. Everyone on the line is snapping shots with one another. There is never a charge. It’s a fun little courtesy among guests.

The process was fast—too fast. Before I could process what was happening, the daughter asked for my credit card. I was stunned. Like I said, no one had ever charged me before. That’s not how this goes. But I went along with it, too embarrassed to just walk away. So, I paid the $100. Got the cell phone snap shot and walked away feeling pretty unhappy. There was no connection, no acknowledgment—just a transaction, and here is your phone—hope it’s in focus.

The next day, Marvel Man wandered over to my booth. He admired a few of my pieces and said something like, “That would look great in my home.” Somehow, I thought he wandered over for an apology for the mix up. Nope. Just a visit to add insult to injury.

I had just paid him $100 for a photo. So, without missing a beat, I said, “It can go home with you for $500.”

He hemmed and hawed, then wandered back to his side of the curtain.

Had I not been charged for the photo; I might have given him the piece. But to expect a $500 piece of artwork for free—after charging me for a lackluster photo? That was outrageous.

That’s how it goes, though. It’s one-sided. It’s always one-sided.

Years ago, before I appeared on that Syfy reality show, someone suggested I send one of my handcrafted werewolf masks to a late-night host. It was the first of my werewolf designs—Werewolf 1.0. It was big, elaborate, time-consuming, and could rip a mofo’s head off.

Thinking it could be a great opportunity, I finished the piece, contacted the host’s reps, got an address, and shipped the mask. Shipped at significant personal expense, I might add. The notification from the certified mail letting me know it arrived was the only word I ever received.

There was no thank-you email, not even a form letter. Certainly, no mention on the show. Absolutely nothing.

Realistically? It’s probably in a landfill.

Celebrities get free stuff all the time. Are they expected to keep everything? It’s not realistic to think that would be the case. But at conventions, I’ve watched firsthand as celebrities are gifted beautiful, heartfelt pieces people have invested themselves in... only to have the celebrity toss it in a trash or hand it off to an assistant with instructions to throw it out. Oh, they will fain excitement—they are actor after all. They do wait until the fan is go before, they huck it. So, there is that.

The Werewolf 1.0 mask? That was on me, though. I should’ve known better. I haven’t made that mistake since.

The celebrities that really piss me off are the ones who ask for free art and offer nothing in return. Like Marvel Man.

I’ve been approached by multiple celebrities at comic cons who walk up to my celebrity row table and pull the same shit. They want what I have, or what I can create, but they aren’t willing to pay for it or even promote it. Not even a tweet, a tag, or a shoutout.

If you’re quick, you might snap a photo of them holding the piece. But that’s all it is: a photo. You need more than a damn photo nowadays. Without context, people think the celebrity stopped by, smiled, and posed for a picture. Maybe you asked them for the photo. Or worse, they think the picture is fake. In this age of Photoshop and AI, it’s easy to assume the image was manipulated.

How about a video?

You must be joking.

Mr. '90s Teen Heartthrob is another prime example. He wanted my $3000 Werewolf 2.0 mask to scare his brother. This make was much more involved than its predecessor. He said he just wanted to borrow it. He only needed it for a few weeks. He'd mail it back me afterward.

Right. Sure you will. And do I want it back after you “borrowed” it?

So, I made a counteroffer: if he was willing to record a quick 2–3-minute video talking about the mask and what he planned to do with it, I’d let him keep it. The video would mean the world to me—and likely mean nothing to him.

But no. That 2–3 minutes of his time was somehow worth more than the 50+ hours of labor, expertise, and materials I’d put into the piece.

He wasn’t interested in a fair trade. He wanted the usual deal: one-sided.

Then there was Mrs. Alien. My admiration for her—hell, all of our admiration—made us soft targets for a volley of freebee to make her money. She never got it. Its free for her, but still costly for me. I still had to buy the materials.

The last thing I built for her was a robotic head for a cheesy music video. While I was working on two films and a commercial that summer, which were actual paying gigs, she wanted me to build this prop. I tried fitting her project into the cracks of my free time. Apparently, I wasn’t working fast enough.

She had someone else build it behind my back. Also, for free. She never told me either, which was really messed up. I only found out because her boyfriend slipped up in conversation. So not only did I go out of pocket, and sacrifice what little personal time I had to work on this thing, but I was now stuck with it. I couldn’t use it, and certainly didn’t want it. Hell, it’s still somewhere collecting dust on some studio rack.

From that point on, whenever she called, I quoted prices. The freebie train had been derailed.

Funny thing is, after five years of what I thought was friendship, the calls stopped the moment I stopped doing her favors.

Can’t say I’m surprised.

Artists gain nothing from giving away work to these moochers. I’ve watched celebrities at comic cons collect free pieces from struggling artists—only to drop them in a box and leave them behind at the end of the weekend.

If they truly valued your work, they’d take a moment to stand for a photo with you and the piece. They’d offer a quote, a tag, a sentence of support. Or, here’s a wild idea: they’d pay for it.

Even if you offered to give it to them, a decent person would recognize the gesture and insist on compensating you. Because they can.

Now, I of all people know that fame and fortune are not the same thing. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say Mr. Marvel, Mr. Heartthrob, and Mrs. Alien all make more money than I do.

And yet, they figured I should be thrilled they even showed interest.

Sorry. No.

Stand your ground. Your artwork has value. Don’t give it away to people who could clearly don’t deserve it, appreciate it, or who can obviously compensate you—but just choose not to. You’re worth more than that.