Pros
– Access to painting supplies – Made lifelong friendships with some of the most talented, kind artists I’ve ever met. The coworkers were the best part of the job, and they're the reason I stayed as long as I did.
Cons
– Safety concerns are ignored—this was my biggest issue (!): From working in sauna-like conditions when the AC broke, to being expected to show up during severe snowstorms, to handling literal biohazard messes (yes, I personally had to clean poop off walls—something I should’ve never been responsible for). I also experienced fume inhalation poisoning symptoms twice from improperly handled oven cleanings, and nothing meaningful was done the first time beyond a generic memo. – Underpaid for the amount of physical, emotional, and creative labor required. The starting wage was even lowered during my time there, so new hires are being paid less to do more. – No breaks between sessions and chaotic split shifts that can take up your whole day. Depending on signups, you're often doing the work of two or three people. It’s common to lead a class and bartend for up to 15 people with only one cook—or worse, lead, bartend, and cook entirely solo—for the same pay. – Not allowed to lead or participate in other painting events, even independently, which limits creative freedom and supplemental income. – Applied internally for a different position and was met with unsolicited critique and passive retaliation, rather than encouragement or transparency. – The “gallery wall” for artist work is hidden away, overly controlled, and vulnerable to theft. It’s marketed as a benefit but functions more like a checkbox for recruitment. – Emotional labor is constant. Tip jars were removed. Staff are frequently overwhelmed, and back-room breakdowns are common. – Turnover is extremely high—and for good reason. - I was an employee who regularly advocated for myself and spoke up about unfair changes and valid concerns. I wholeheartedly believe this led Muse to keep me small, rather than support my growth. The list goes on to be honest, but Ill stop here and leave you with this last bit. During my time as a full-time employee (for over a year), we had a studio visit from the CEO and upper management. I raised concerns about ADA compliance and how overcrowded the private rooms felt to the CEO. I expressed that the seating arrangements were especially uncomfortable for larger-bodied individuals and didn’t feel accessible or considerate. In response, she physically sat in one of the tighter spots, hunched over, exaggerated her body language as if mimicking a plus-sized person, and said something along the lines of being fine in that position. It was a shocking moment—what was meant to be a discussion about accessibility turned into a dismissive performance that reduced a real concern to a strange demonstration. I also brought up issues for parents, like the lack of stroller space, and was told they could park strollers outside and carry babies in instead. Rather than addressing the safety implications of crammed rooms filled with alcohol, paint, and trip hazards, her responses centered on personal anecdotes and generalizations. Overall, the exchange felt unprofessional and tone-deaf.