The Art of Managing Commissions: Balancing Client Expectations with Artistic Vision

There’s something oddly tricky about commissions. On paper, they sound great. You’re being asked or sometimes even sought out to make art, and you’re going to be paid for it. You might even get some freedom in the process. And yet... they don’t always feel great while you’re in the middle of them. Some go smooth as can be. Others turn into a slow unraveling of your artistic gut instinct. If you’ve ever taken on a commission that started off exciting and slowly became something you dreaded, you’re not alone. I’ve been there more than once.

I learned this the hard way, early on, back when I was just trying to get some traction with my studio work and extra money was extra needed. I said yes to a portrait project. I don’t do portraits anymore. I can do them, but they don’t feel like me. At the time, I thought, “I’ll bend just a little for this one...it’s fine.” I told myself I’d bring my own style into it and make it my own. Except the client kept sending me photo after photo of what they really wanted. None of which looked like my work. We never explicitly said this would be done in my style...but we also never said it wouldn’t. And that little detail (the not-saying) it snowballed.

I ended up finishing the piece and getting paid, but it didn’t feel good. The client seemed happy enough, but I remember thinking, “This doesn’t feel like my work.” It felt like a filtered version of what I do, held up against someone else’s expectations. And if I’m being honest, I let that happen by not setting clear terms or boundaries right up front. Since then, I’ve gotten better…clearer, more confident, and a lot more intentional. And if you’re in that place where you’re trying to balance your artistic voice with what a client wants...you’re in good company.

Here’s what I’ve figured out over the years: managing commissions is really about managing the relationship. It’s not just about the art. It’s about conversations, tone, timing, expectations, flexibility, and clarity. A lot of artists I know struggle with this because we’re used to making work from the inside out. Commissions flip that. Suddenly someone else has a say. Sometimes they have a lot to say. And if you don’t set the tone from the start, things can get muddy fast.

Before you even agree to a project, you need to know if the request lines up with the kind of work you want to make. Not just what you can make...what actually feels aligned. It might be tempting to take every opportunity, especially in slow months or when you're just starting to build momentum. But over time, you’ll start to see that not every opportunity is worth the creative compromise. I’ve had to learn how to pause and ask myself: Will this commission help me grow? Will I enjoy making it? Will it sit well in my portfolio later? Will I feel like I still have a say in the outcome?

If I can’t say yes to at least two of those, it’s probably a no. Or at least a not-right-now.

One of the best things I’ve done is build a small intake system. Nothing complicated. Just a short set of questions I send to anyone who inquires. Things like: What kind of work are you imagining? Is there a deadline? Do you want me to work from reference photos or create something more interpretive? Have you seen examples of my work that feel close to what you’re picturing? It’s a small thing, but it saves so much time and awkwardness. It also sets a tone that I’m a professional who values process.

I used to worry that this kind of structure would scare people off, but it’s actually had the opposite effect. The clients who take the time to answer those questions usually end up being the best fit. They respect the process, they trust my decisions, and they come into it knowing that we’re working together, not just me for them.

Once you agree to move forward, setting up clear terms is key. I do everything in writing. Email is fine, but I also like to send a short agreement that outlines what we’ve discussed like timeline, payment terms, revisions, what’s included, and what’s not. It doesn’t have to be a legal document (unless it’s a big job), but it needs to be clear. Even if you’re working with someone you know or trust, write it down. Your future self will thank you.

And let’s talk about revisions. This is where a lot of artists lose time and energy. I always include how many rounds of revisions are built into the fee. One? Two? Make that clear. Anything beyond that is billed separately. This is where the boundaries come in. Without them, some clients will revise a piece to death, not because they’re difficult, but because they can. You have to be the one to protect your time and your creative stamina.

You also don’t have to take every single piece of feedback and implement it. Sometimes a client will ask for something that doesn’t work. You’re allowed to say that. You’re allowed to push back gently and explain your reasoning. In fact, that’s part of what makes you the artist not just the maker. I’ve had moments where I’ve said, “I hear what you’re going for, but I don’t think that’s going to create the effect you want...what if we try this instead?” Nine times out of ten, they appreciate that input.

The trick is doing it with kindness and professionalism. Be open to input, but stay rooted in your own vision. It’s a balance. And honestly, it’s one that gets easier the more you do it.

I’ve found it helpful to build in small checkpoints throughout the process. A rough sketch review. A midway progress shot. A final approval step before delivery. These little pauses give your client a sense of involvement without handing over the reins. It keeps surprises to a minimum and helps avoid the dreaded “This isn’t what I expected” email at the end.

You can also choose how collaborative you want to be. Some artists love the back and forth. Others prefer a hands-off approach once things are agreed upon. There’s no one right way here, but you need to be clear about your way. If you want total creative freedom, say that. If you’re okay with input, let them know what kind. The clearer you are, the smoother the process will go.

The thing that doesn’t get talked about enough is how much emotional labor commissions can take. You’re not just making something. You’re also holding space for someone else’s vision, memories, or ideas. That can get heavy. And if you don’t have good boundaries in place, it’s easy to burn out. I’ve had to learn when to say no, when to reschedule, and when to step back entirely. You’re not a bad artist for turning something down. You’re not selfish for protecting your time. You’re just being honest about what you need to do good work.

Let’s talk about pricing. This is the part that makes most artists squirm, but it matters. A lot. If your pricing is vague or too low, everything else gets harder. You start to resent the work. You second-guess your time. You hesitate to push back on scope. The first thing to figure out is what you actually want to be paid per hour. Then build your pricing backward from there. Include material costs, time for communication and admin, shipping or delivery, and revision rounds. If you’re not sure, track your time on the next few commissions. You might be shocked at how much work you’re giving away for free.

You can also offer tiered options. Maybe a simple version for a lower price, and a more complex option with more features. This gives clients a way to choose what works for them, and it gives you control over what you’re committing to. You don’t have to say yes to everything just because someone has money. You get to decide what makes sense for your practice.

Now let’s say you’ve done a few commissions, and you actually enjoyed the process. That’s a good place to be. It means you’re probably working with the right clients. And if you want to keep that momentum going, make it easy for them to come back. Send a thank you note. Follow up after delivery. Ask if they want to be added to your newsletter. Good client relationships are like good friendships, they take time and trust. But they can be incredibly fulfilling.

And finally, you get to decide how commissions fit into your art life. Some artists thrive on them. Others prefer to do just a few a year. There’s no rule that says you have to do them forever. I go through phases. Some years I take on several. Some years I say no to almost all of them. It depends on where I’m at in my own practice. That’s the thing I want to leave you with…you can change your mind. You can shift how you work. You can make commissions work for you, not just feel like something you have to do to stay afloat.

So if you’re in the thick of managing a commission and it feels like a lot, give yourself a moment. Step back. Re-ground. Ask yourself what you need to make the process feel better. A pause? A boundary? A more direct conversation? That part’s up to you. You get to be both the artist and the guide. That’s the real art of commissions.