How to Market Your Art Online

A friend of mine asked if I taught luddite artists how to market your art online. He isn’t really anti-technology but is frustrated. I don’t blame him. The reality is that selling and promoting art online is frustrating because there are so many options from social media to websites to emails. Even more annoying: the technology behind those options is constantly changing.

Social Media & Art Sales

When it comes to marketing your art online, social media seems like the obvious choice. It’s free and can be a fun way to check out what your fellow artists are up to. But it’s a love-hate thing. Social media is a time suck and, more often than not, doesn’t result in sales. And yet, we all–myself included–keep posting.

Here’s the thing, as annoying as it is, I would never tell you to stop posting on social media. Far from it. In fact, you should definitely keep up with it (maybe set a timer so you get off at a reasonable hour) but keep at it because it is helping. It’s just not helping market your art online like you think it should.

Why Social Media Isn't Your Best Selling Tool

I know some art does sell through social media posts, but I’ve never heard of anyone selling there exclusively and consistently. If you are, I’d love to hear from you!

So, why doesn’t social media work? It’s pretty simply, really.

People who randomly give your post a “like” as they infinitely scroll aren’t engaged enough with your work to make a buying decision.

How Do You Turn Browsers into Buyers?

You see, there’s a missing link between scrolling and buying.

So, you may be wondering, how do you turn “likes” into sales?

Excellent question.

Answer: get scrollers to visit your website and sign up for your newsletter or emails.

Research shows that if a visitor to your website gives you their email, the chances of them becoming a buying client jump dramatically.

In a March 2023, Snov.io. com, reported that email marketing acquired 40 times more customers than Facebook and Twitter combined with the average click through rates for each channel:

– email marketing (3.57%)
– Facebook (0.07%)
– Twitter (0.03%)

How to Grow Your Email List

The majority of professional marketers believe email is more than twice as effective at generating leads than paid social media. Twice!

In order to effectively market your art online, you need to grow an email list of clients. There are some really important ways to do this.

Have a sign up form on your website’s footer and contact page.
Ask people to sign up at strategic places throughout your website.
Give visitors to your website a compelling reason to sign up.

Compelling Reason #1: Send Awesome Newsletters

People who give you their email address actually are interested in you and your work. They want to hear from you and may already be contemplating buying something from you. They are your perfect clients and your target audience.

When it comes to marketing your art online and making sales, your email list holds the greatest opportunity.

This is why I want you to create effective newsletters (and compelling blogs–I’ll explain next).

How to Create Awesome Newsletters

Newsletters I receive from artists tend to be focused on sales and promoting the latest painting or awards, workshop schedules, etc. This seems like the obvious reason for a newsletter, right? It is a “news” letter, after all.

But you’re missing your greatest opportunity to really engage your audience and bring them into your world.

If you get anything out of this blog, it should be this:

Follow the 80/20 rule: give, give, give away insights and knowledge 80% of the time; ask for something only 20%.

The Secret to Email Success: Change the Conversation

Here’s a simple fix for newsletters that are always asking for something or sound like bragging. Turn the announcement of a new painting into a conversation about what inspired that painting or, as the case may be, series of paintings (photos, sculptures, etc.).

EXAMPLE

STANDARD EMAIL: “Hey, I just finished a new painting in my zen series. Here’s a link.”

CONVERT TO: “I’ve been searching for ways to find peace in my life. As many of you know, I have recently gone through challenging times. This new work started to flow after I took time off to hike and camp out in the desert where I could be in total quiet and calm, away from distractions (no internet service!) that had kept me from facing the difficulties I’ve been working through.”

WHY THIS WORKS

You’re still announcing new work, but now you’re giving insights and personal reflections that will resonate with your reader. If your reader is interested in your work, they will now have a deeper understanding, which is something collectors are always yearning for.

In other words, you’re giving people the story behind the art.

And, not only are you giving people a glimpse into your practice, but you are being real and showing them that you–like them–face similar challenges. It’s all about helping.

Ultimately, your clients will feel a connection to you because you are being authentic. They will further feel connected to your work because they too have had to deal with difficulties.

Of course, it doesn’t have to be difficult times. It can be joyful times, too, like the birth of a child or the addition of a new furry friend.

The thing is, you’re an artist but you’re a human being, too, who is dealing with the same basic needs as every other non-artist. Find connection through the human stuff; use your art as the catalyst for the conversation.

Compelling Reason #2: Blogs

Blogs on your website are akin to having a personal magazine. A blog allows you to do what Social Media won’t: spread out and tell your story.

Newsletters are the vehicle to drive people back to your website. Blogs are the destination. Newsletter are timely; blogs are usually evergreen.

Newsletters go out in e-blasts that land in your clients’ inboxes then go away. Blogs stay on your website for years where they remain searchable. Searchable content on your website means it’s constantly working to reach collectors long after you hit publish. Newsletter, on the other hand, are a one-and-done deal.

5 Reasons Why You Should Blog

Drive people back to your website. The ENTIRE reason to send a newsletter is to bring people back to your website. If you’re not sending them to your website, you are missing a golden opportunity.
Build SEO. SEO (search engine optimization) is the great, organic stuff you do on your website to get discovered. Having a blog that talks about topics that people looking for work like yours are searching for is better than buying ads or boosting social media posts that are only randomly found.
Content lives on your site, working long after you hit publish. This content, when done right, keeps working because people from around the world who are looking for answers can find you through your blog content.
Establishes you as an authority. This space is all yours, and you are an authority on your work, your genre, your materials, your studio, etc. So get out there and talk about it.
It’s shareable. People who read your blog can repost it on their social media or email to their friends. Suddenly you have a sales force out there sharing your insights and driving more people to your website.

Compelling Reason #3: Use Your Images

You’re an artist. You have images of your work. You don’t have to be a stellar writer to make really great blogs. In fact, you can work magic marketing your art online and create a loyal following by using your images. Here’s how:

Gather together images that have a cohesive theme.
Simmer that theme down to one clear topic that answers a question your audience has.
Make the topic something that people would look up when searching for you. Example: you’re a watercolorist. Collectors of watercolors frequently search “how to display watercolors.” Focus on this searchable topic.
Optimize images for the web (your website will have recommended dimensions and files sizes–check out these standards and convert images appropriately).
Write short paragraphs or longish captions that explain the images and how they help answer the question of how to display watercolors.”
Link out to any and all terms that are appropriate. Using our Watercolor example, you may refer to certain types of glass. Link out to manufacturers of that glass.
Link internally. Every image on your blog should be linked to the image where it lives on your art page.
Use your key phrase throughout your blog, i.e. repeat your key phrase/established topic.
End your blog with a call to action (CTA). This might be asking them to subscribe to know when your next blog is published or maybe to email with other questions about displaying watercolors (you are the authority, after all).
Before you hit publish, ask a friend to read for content and typos. If you’re like me, you can find other writer’s typos but not your own.
PUBLISH!
Send a newsletter.
Post your blog on all your social media.

Want Some Help?

Join me for a Blogging with Pictures workshop. I run them monthly. (Yep, that’s a Call To Action, my friend! You’ll learn about those in my workshop, too.)

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Talking to Women with Power Tools

How to Succeed as an Artist

Let’s face it, the art business is tough. And the gage of “success” is a moving target. Is it money? Accolades? Galleries and collectors? Museum shows?

Or…maybe true success is found by looking inward. Maybe success comes when you reach the point where your creative vision and expression unite as an authentic work of art?

Inspiration

If successful artists are those who have found the freedom to create and have learned to actualize their vision, then I believe the sculptors in a show I curated for the PACE Center are tremendously successful.

“Women with Power Tools,” May 16-July 6, 2023, turned a spotlight on four sculptors who probably don’t spend too much time worry about the definition of success; they simply are successful.

A Note About This Exhibit & Blog

A few years ago, sculptor Autumn T. Thomas told me a story about buying a table saw she needed to create a new series of work.

She researched the one she wanted and found it at a hardware store. When she finally flagged down a salesman to help her load it onto a cart, he looked at her and said, “You don’t need that.”

And then he walked away.

I was dumbfounded by this story, though I shouldn’t have been.

Autumn isn’t the first female artist to run up against such chauvinism and won’t be the last. But it got me thinking about the tough-as-nails women sculptors I know who have created important and monumental works, chauvinists be damned.

“Women with Power Tools” isn’t about “women” artists, not really, anyway. It’s about great art. Ingenious art. It’s also about perseverance and determination and the drive to press on past every obstacle, not the least, your body’s physical limitations.

Because the show is comprised of 3D works, I interviewed each artist for didactic wall materials. This blog is an edited version of those interviews and focuses on the qualities I believe make each artist a success.

A shout out to my dear friend Todd Pierson who photographed the sculptors in their studios, which, for me, was frosting on the cake!

Madeline Wiener, stone sculptor

My mother saw me as a nice, little housewife.

“I remember, in my mid-20s, I was running a brush through my hair when my mother walked by and noticed the definition in my arms. She was appalled. She said, “Women are not supposed to have muscles.” I thought, how ridiculous was that? Welcome to the 20^th century, Mom.

“I was studying painting at the New York School of Visual Arts. I wanted my paintings to pop off the canvas; I wanted my work to look as dimensional as possible. And I was always sketching sculpture and people. One of my teachers said, “Have you ever thought of carving?”

“For the first seven years I carved in soft stone with a hammer and chisel. I love that sound. The stones were 35-40 pounds—whatever I could carry up two flights of stairs to my studio in New York City.

“Now I’m working in tonnage. I use a folk lift, grinders, diamond cutting tools. I’m 75 years old, so my assistant of the last 40 years does my chainsaw work. I’ve carved more than 60 private and municipal sculptures and learned early on to accept help.

“I had to learn by myself because my stone carving teacher was a bronze sculptor. He didn’t have the knowledge I needed.

The book “Contemporary Stone Sculpture” by Dona Meilach—a woman—taught me everything I needed to know. I still use that book today when teaching new artists.

“The other person who taught me about power tools was Frank Swanson who put a grinder in my hand and walked away. That grinder started arcing the second I turned it on, and I threw it across the studio floor. When I brought it back to him, he said, “You broke it, you fix it.” It was his mean way of making me become self-sufficient. He did me a favor that I didn’t understand at the time.”

To learn more about Madeline Wiener, visit www.MadelineWiener.com.

Autumn T. Thomas, wood and mixed media sculptor

“I’ve become attuned. If I’m cutting wood and it has tension or a knot, I can feel that through the vibration of the tool, so I know if I should slow down.

There’s a different language that you learn when working with bandsaws and table saws. Blades sing or vibrate differently.

“There are nuances with power tools. You have to trust the tool’s power and respect it. Once you do that, you can sort of wield its power to your advantage.

“My pieces are fragile. When I started out, it was devastating when something would break. But now I think it’s the nature of art. There are no mistakes. There are no rules. I’m making something that doesn’t exist. I’m making something that no one asked for. If I make a cut too far, I accept it and embrace it. This understanding has allowed me to be freer.

“I’m a spontaneous sculptor. When I’m at the point of cutting the wood, that’s also the point in which I’m developing the idea. When I’m taking away from the wood, this is where I’m embedding my ideas and feelings into the piece. I have to be in tune and focused to be safe. All these ideas and feelings combine with me and the power tool to go into the wood. Once I’m finished cutting, the wood is imbued with emotional power. The final step is to take it from a beautiful piece of wood into a beautiful piece of art.”

To learn more about Autumn T. Thomas, please visit https://atthomas.com.

Pati Stajcar, bronze, wood, and stone sculptor

“I’d always been the wild child. Definitely not a girly-girl. Using power tools was just a means to an end. I never thought I was doing anything different than anyone else.

I’ve got more diamonds than any woman I know. And they’re all industrial strength.

“When I was learning to carve wood, I only used hand tools. It’s a really good way to learn; you get the feel of the wood. When I got more confident and started using power tools, I had to learn to go slow and work in stages.

“The first thing you have to master is confidence, that you’re not afraid of your tool. That confidence comes with the comfort of the tool in your hand.

“I love mistakes. I have almost never made a piece that came out the way I envisioned it first off. Every time I’ve had an accident—might not even be my mistake, it might be in the material I’m working with, a rotten piece in the middle of the wood—once it’s exposed, I learn how to get around it. If I go in with an open mind and let the wood or marble take me on its journey, it becomes a better piece than I envisioned.”

To learn more about Pati Stajcar, please visit https://stajcar.com.

Alex Branch, interdisciplinary

“In college, I had a drawing instructor who made us keep a sketchbook. I started sewing objects onto the pages of mine and attached different materials that made the books become three-dimensional. At one point my teacher told me that was a strength, my use of materials.

I’ve always liked to take things apart and put them back together.

“I spent a lot of time on a decommissioned lighthouse boat that’s docked on the Hudson River. In the hull, I noticed how the sound from outside resonated like the body of a cello or guitar. And the boat’s rigging lines made it look like an instrument. I thought, what if I intentionally made a hybrid of the two?

“When I was living in New York City, I didn’t have a space to make a boat so, I got a residency in New Mexico, which is ironic because there’s not a lot of water there. I had to make a boat in six weeks. I used an old form of boat building called “stitch and glue,” which is a descendant of the sewn boat building technique.

“I play guitar but I’m not a musician. I think there’s a difference between someone who plays and someone whose medium is music. I can play my boats but something different happens when a musician plays them.

“It’s mysterious where ideas come from. You get an idea, and you go after it. You catch the scent of it and go after it and you don’t know what will happen along the way.”

To learn more about Alex Branch, please visit https://alexbranch.com.

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How to Get Into an Art Gallery

With so many online opportunities to sell your art, a lot of artists are wondering if getting into galleries is worth pursuing. This month I’m exploring the pros and cons of working with a gallery as well as offering professional insights on how to get into a gallery, should you decide to go that route.

I asked dealers I know to give me their thoughts and best advice. Special thanks to Doug Kacena, K Contemporary, in Denver, Maria Hajic with Gerald Peters, in Santa Fe, and Nikki Todd of Visions West Contemporary, Bozeman, Livingston and Denver, for sharing their thoughts.

Readers, if there’s something I didn’t cover, please leave a comment below so I can answer it for everyone!

where do you find new artists?

The answer to where dealers find new talent was unanimous:

1. Art fairs (prime territory to consume a lot of art in person, says Nikki);

2. Instagram;

3. Through trusted artists.

Maria Hajic cites museum shows, independent curators and fellow dealers as other great resources.

Where dealers are NOT finding new artists?

From people who drop in and make cold calls.

“People do wander in off the streets wanting to show me their portfolio,” Doug Kacena tells me, but warns, “it’s not a good idea.”

He says the worst possible time to hit up a dealer is during an opening, which happens surprisingly often. “When artists do this,” Doug says, “I usually ask them to imagine this was their opening. How would they feel if my staff and I were off in a corner looking at someone else’s website instead of tending to your work? They usually get it then.”

What About Emails?

Doug put it this way: “Have I brought on an artist from a random email? Yes, but I get more artists through recommendations from artists I currently work with.”

The Big Takeaway

1. Put yourself out there where people in the biz can find you.

2. Keep your Instagram account populated with strong visual content.

3. Getting seen at an air fair requires a dealer to take you, which may sound like a catch-22, if you don’t have a gallery that attends art fairs. An alternative is to applying to Calls for Entry to shows that dealers working in your genre attend. (Subscribe to my site for my e-Book, “Upping Your Game” for help with this process.)

4. Ask artists you know about their galleries and if they would put in a good word for you.

How Important Is Your Online Presence?

Social media is definitely a factor these days. And though posting can feel like shouting into the void, there are things you can do to increase your visibility, such as having a business account and using hashtags wisely.

You should expect that when a dealer does reach out, chances are good that they’ll ask what kind of following you have.

Beyond social media, make sure you have an up-to-date website. If you don’t have a website or are frustrated with you current site, check out FASO sites. You can be up and running in an hour.

Other online opportunities include having your work listed on Artsy.

“Artsy is gallery driven; you have to be in a gallery to get on Artsy,” Doug says, “which means you’re in important galleries, because Artsy is not cheap, but it’s important. If your gallery puts you on their Artsy account, that means you have a following and an audience of people interested in purchasing your work.”

Keeping up: Tips for Managing Social Media

Concentrate on just one or two social media outlets.

Convert those outlets to business accounts and keep your posts professional.

Be positive and spread the love by commenting on other artist’s work and successes.

Share great posts you see, especially if they’re coming from a gallery you’re interested in joining.

Set a timer to remind yourself to get off the infinite scroll.

Look into time saving apps such as Later or LinkTr.ee that will help you broadcast to various platforms.

Canva is an invaluable tool for creating exceptional creative materials and they have a feature for scheduling releases over several weeks.

Qualities of a successful Artist-Dealer Relationship

“I look at this as a business partnership,” Doug says. “We do a lot of development strategy with our artists, mainly, how do we get them in front of collectors and in museums? So, for me, I want to know: is the artist all in? Is this their job? Is this how they’re making a living?”

“Professionalism,” Maria says, citing that this is her favorite trait in an artist because it encompasses things like time management, attention to details and deadlines, and indicates that an artist is a clear communicator, and responsible.

And she adds, “Honesty, clear boundaries, willingness to collaborate, flexibility, and a sense of humor always help during a rough patch.”

The artists become like family. We are lucky to count several of our artists as close friends. I think when artists really listen to our advice and know that we are striving to advance their careers as much as just selling the art and putting money in their pockets, that's when I feel like we have reached a successful place in the partnership.

Nikki Todd Tweet

Doug adds, “When I sit down with an artist, I am always asking, what’s the next goal, what are we trying to achieve? Each artist is different, and each has a different path, but they are serious; this their career.”

Interestingly, he says having multiple galleries is a good thing. “I don’t think it’s the same for all galleries but I think it’s better to have multiple galleries supporting them. It’s in everyone’s interest.”

How to Approach Galleries: What Not to Do

#1 response: Do NOT show up unannounced.

“I would advise never just popping in and asking for the work to be looked at on the spot.,” Nikki advises. “We get that so much and it just shows lack of respect for the business and for the artists that are hanging on the walls.”

“Respect our time,” Maria says, and adds, “No cold calls, please. I prefer an email approach as I can give the artist’s submission my full attention when I am free.”

According to Doug, the biggest issue he sees is that many artists are not self-aware. “You have to be honest with yourself about where you really are in your career and ability,” he says. “And if you can visit a gallery in person, do so before reaching out. Get a feel for the price points of the artists that gallery represents.”

So, though it feels like a catch-22, if your prices aren’t there, hold off on applying until you’ve built your career up to that point where you’re pricing is commensurate with the others in the gallery.

Another major faux pas is submitting your work to a gallery online when it’s clear you don’t know anything about the gallery, the kind of work they carry, their goals, and mission.

“I will tell you that 99% of the submissions that come in are from artists who haven’t done their homework. It feels like artists send out blanket submissions–copy and paste–without researching the gallery.”

Fun Fact About Most Dealers

“Even though, on the website, it says we’re not looking at new artists,” Doug says, “I do love looking at art.” He says he used to respond to everyone who emailed but now he doesn’t have time. So, whether you get a response or not, know that Doug, as well as most other dealers, are looking at every single solicitation they get via email.

Tips for Submitting Your Work

Don’t send materials through the mail. No one wants to deal with returning them to you.

Do send via email:

Multiple jpgs of current images

Resume/CV

Artist statement

Cover letter

Do you need help creating cover letters, artist statement, CV and bio? Schedule some time with me to get this done. Click Here and scroll to Calendly to book time.

Is the Process Worth It?

“Galleries are the king and queen makers,” says Nikki. “I don’t think that will ever change. Galleries will take artists to fairs and give exposure that is impossible to achieve from Instagram or a website presence: a brick and mortar place to exhibit; dedicated staff whose sole job is to promote, sell, organize your work and career; and networking with important clients, institutions and museums.”

“If you want to sell online, you have to continually feed that beast,” says Maria,” which takes precious time. Most, though not all, artists would rather concentrate on their art. Cultivating relationships with clients and viewing artwork in person is very different than viewing it online. Of course, a gallery must do both in this digital age. Does an artist have time for all that?”

Doug agrees and adds, “You can’t go to an art fair without a gallery, and every curator in the country shows up to fairs. I know some artists who have gotten big enough that they don’t need a gallery and can do it on their own. But how do you think they got there? Other people were doing the work for them.”

Ultimately, dealers are taking care of you while you’re concentrating on your work. They’re motivated to make sales for you because it keeps their doors open and the lights on. They’ll handle the negotiating with collectors and make sure your work is put in front of the right audience. They speak for you when you’re not around.

Final Thoughts: Playing the Long Game

Only you can decide whether it’s worth the effort to get into galleries, but consider the vast benefits that come when you do find the perfect fit.

Understand that this is a process. You will get rejection letters–or simply not hear back–don’t let that stop you from trying. It’s a business, so keep searching for galleries and dealers who are excited about your work; they’re the ones who will become the kind of partner, promoter, and confidant you most need.

Check out my blog The Artist Curator Relationship for a deeper understanding of the nuances of working with professional dealers and curators.

Do you need help putting together your presentation pitch to galleries: cover letter, artists statement, CV, etc.? I can tackle this for you. Schedule some time with me to discuss.

Duesberry How to become a good artist blog image

How to Become A Good Artist: Joellyn Duesberry

If you lined up a hundred successful artists and asked for their best advice on “how to become a good artist,” you’d undoubtedly receive dozens of different answers.

This question, however, is essential, albeit it, elusive. And it comes in many forms: “how do I get into galleries?” or “how do I get noticed as an artist?” and, of course, “how do I make a living as an artist?”

For the next few blogs, I’m going to look at what it means to become a good artist, by turning a spotlight on the practices of artists who have achieved major milestones in their careers and how they did it.

First up, Joellyn Duesberry (1944-2016), an artist I met in the early 90s when I worked for Carol Siple at her Denver gallery, and got to know Joly quite well when I published her book, Elevated Perspectives, the Paintings of Joellyn Duesberry. Now, working for her family as a consultant helping to catalogue her work, place some things in museums, and sell others privately to collectors, I am learning even more about what she did to constantly propel herself and her art forward.

Competing against yourself

Primarily an oil painter, Joly focused on landscape. She was a “plein air” painter before it had a cool name and she had some great stories about being so immersed in her work that. One of my favorites was the time a bull walked up behind her and started breathing on her back. Annoyed by the interruption and then startled by the reality that a bull could sneak up on her, she carefully backed away, ceding the meadow to the massive beast.

Joly was intense and would have probably been considered ADHD, had that been a diagnosis at the time. Over the years, I think Joly could be her own worst enemy, and yet she was easily one of the hardest working and most driven artist I have ever known.

Check out Joly’s curriculum vitae to see what I mean: Joellyn Duesberry CV.

Suffice it to say, she was a force of nature. She’d fought off cancer three times before finally succumbing at the age of 72. I believe Joly was keenly aware of the ticking clock and simply refused to stop running, cancer be damned.

But that’s not what I want to tell you about Joly or why I think she was successful. She became a good artist because she never stopped challenging herself. The work she was creating at the end of her life was bold and clearly taking her in a deeper level of discovery. Yes, Joly was still pressing herself forward, still exploring, still looking for a new language in painting even as cancer was winning.

The race was always against herself and time. She didn’t resent others for their success; she simply tried harder.

She could have been resentful; she had to work harder than, for example, her male contemporaries. That’s just the honest truth. All women did and still do.

How You See Yourself

Joellyn always called herself an autodidact, a self-taught artist. She was referring to the fact that she began painting when she was five years old and taught herself without the influence of teachers until she went to college. She earned a BA from Dartmouth and a MA from Smith, and went on to study at the Art Students League of New York, the National Academy of Design, and the New York Academy.

I only bring this up because it always struck me as odd that she called herself an autodidact. Looking back, I believe she did this out of fear.

Staying In Front of Fear

I’m speculating and could be wrong about this, but I think Joly suffered from nearly debilitating self-doubt. She told me once that her mother had been terribly abusive. I don’t know that Joly ever fully swept those memories out of her psyche. And I wonder if calling herself an autodidact was a shield she held up to protect herself from the fear of what people would say if she called herself an artist, pure and simple.

Maybe too, this fear was the wellspring of her determination and drive that pushed her through exhaustion and pain.

I want to be careful here, though, to make this distinction: determination isn’t enough to get your work into museum collections; museums don’t reward the squeaky wheel. Determination might get you noticed, but the quality of your work gets you in.

Joly did not pursue art for accolades. She worked to become a good artist and then an even better artist. She pursued this goal her whole life, right to the very end.

Listen to Your Mentors

In 1986, Joellyn took a workshop with Richard Diebenkorn (1922-1993). She notes in her book, Elevated Perspectives, that Diebenkorn instilled three important concepts.

The abstract and the real are indistinguishable in painting.
Her paintings were landscapes that masqueraded as abstracts–or maybe were abstracts that masqueraded as landscape–and that this was her unique expression.
That her pursuit of landscapes as abstract and vise-versa most likely came out of childhood bliss and terror.

And then Diebenkorn suggested she try printmaking, in particular, monotypes, to help her loosen up and better see shapes and patterns.

Explore the Unknown

For nearly 30 years after Diebenkorn’s suggestion, Joellyn booked printmaking sessions with master printer Mark Lunning, at his studio, Open Press, in Denver. According to Mark, Joellyn’s original intent was to use the printmaking process to help resolve her paintings. Over the years, she embraced printmaking for the way it shifted her perception and helped her to see painting and the world differently.

She was a colorist more than any artist I’ve ever met. She’d book three- to four-day sessions. We’d spend the first day mixing inks and we’d make the most amazing colors. That was one of the things I loved about Joly, her dedication to her work and the process.”

Don't Get Too Comfortable

Dan Sprick told me that when he would paint with Joly she sometimes brought old canvases with paintings she didn’t like and painted over them. This isn’t unusual, reusing an old canvas, but Joly would turn the canvas sideways or upside down, or would just start painting right onto the canvas as it was.

When Dan asked her why she did that–didn’t it make her crazy looking at all those old marks?–she said, “It throws me off.”

To which Dan replied, “Painting is hard enough already.”

This was, Dan thinks, Joly’s attempt at deskilling, a 20th-century notion that confronted art as a skilled labor and sought to break from skill in order to build a new set of skills. Think Marcel Duchamp’s ready mades.

Ultimately, Dan suggested, this might have been her way to place one foot in abstraction while the other remained squarely in realism.

Experiment

Monotypes–the printmaking form Diebenkorn suggested Joly try–are essentially paintings done on a surface such as Plexiglass that are transferred onto another surface, usually paper. The artist works with inks and tools called brayers–rollers of various sizes–and other tools that allow them to achieve the right composition, look, and feel. Here’s an article in ARTnews that explains the tools and processes common to this form of printmaking.

Spontaneity and abstraction are key aspect of monotypes because of the inks and how they dry, and the tools one usually uses in the process of creation.

Master printmaker Mark Lunning describe Joly’s process to me, in particular how she would bring a painting that was, say, 80% complete but was not working. She would then set to work creating monotypes that played with form, design and color to find solutions.

Work is Play / Play is Work

And so, in the print studio, Joly played. She played with color and inks and papers. She experimented with ghost prints–the second pulls off the plate or the pull of another lighter weight paper laid atop the first run that absorbs the excess ink. Sometimes, Mark said, she came to the studio with old monotypes from previous sessions that she didn’t think worked. She’d cut them up and reassemble them into new works.

I use the word “play” but it was work, of course, and a grand experiment. It was collaboration with another artist. And I think, when I look at Joly’s monotypes, it was joyful.

What does it take to be a good artist? In Joly’s case: fear, mistakes, experimentation, play, camaraderie, skill and the release from trying too hard.

Ultimately, it requires the greatest amount of faith.

As for Joly, she embodied all of this. Toward the end of our call, Mark told me how Joly loved the notion of abstraction and talked about it as an objective. And yet, he said, for all her talk she never quite let herself go there.

Maybe in her next life.

Visit JoellynDuesberry.com to see more of her work.

Want to learn more about Artists Marketing?

Visit my Let’s Work Together page to see how I work with artists.

If there’s an artist you’d love to learn more about, let me know in the comments below.

Thanks for reading!

The End of an Era

This month, March 2023, marks the end of an era. After 27 years building the Coors Western Art Exhibit & Sale, an exhibition under the auspices of the National Western Stock Show, several men on the Board of Directors at the Stock Show, none of whom collect art anymore (or ever did), have decided to eliminate my position as curator.

Yes, you read that right: the Coors Show will no longer be an independently curated event. A committee will decide.

The art, I have been told, will reflect them (white men) and their traditional values, whatever those are.

Is the hair on the back of your neck standing up? Art + committee + traditional values…. Yeah, it hurts my heart, too.

Uninspired

This is an old story. Art exhibition has great success; egotists take over after deciding they can do it better despite having no understanding of the art market; art show dies; no one cares.

It’s not just art shows either. Think of all those funky neighborhoods where artists lived and worked until someone thought it’d be really cool to buy up the shabby-chic (read: cheap) real estate and suddenly the neighborhood becomes a cookie-cutter version of every other formerly artsy outpost. Rents go through the roof and the artists can no longer afford to live and work there. Creativity grinds to a halt without artists and soon the cool neighborhood becomes another cliche.

The Big Backlash

When I told the Coors Show artists what was happening and that I wouldn’t be back, many reached out in texts and emails expressing their anger and incredulity.

One conversation in particular set me back on my heels. Melanie Yazzie, master print maker and a university professor said that this kind of thing was happening all over academia.

What we’re seeing across the country, she told me, is a backlash against the #MeToo movement. Out of fear, certain people are doing everything they can to maintain control. They’re deceitful, conniving, and ruthless.

As she talked, I flashed back on the years working in the National Western culture of good old boys and saw vividly the scene that decided my fate.

Minding My Manners

Last year, I and two other women filed a complaint against the CFO of the National Western for bullying, harassment and retaliation. The president of the National Western, which is the company I worked for as curator of the Coors Show, hired an outside firm to interview everyone and, well, cover their asses.

Well behaved women rarely make history.

Our intention in filing a complaint with the National Western was not to be litigious but to make the bully stop.

What happened, however, was jaw-dropping. The man with the outside firm who conducted the study came back with his findings: the women were not credible; the man was.

When my contract was up, I was offered a “constructive discharge,” i.e., a contract written to force me out. In the contract were two stipulations. One, that the National Western would select a committee to curate the show with me (that committee would then take over in a couple years, presumably, after I trained them), and two, because of my “problems” with the CFO, I was not allowed in the offices where he was–which are essential to doing my job.

The bully is protected. The bullied is shamed and fired.

Yes, this is still 2023. I just checked.

When Committees Tell Artists What to Make

There are numerous reasons why art by committee guarantees a weak, milquetoast exhibit and mediocre art.

First is the committee itself. Who joins a curatorial committee? Often it’s collectors with a limited palette. They have, thus, a dog in the fight; their goal is to substantiate their own collection and stoke their egos. They often know enough about art to be dangerous. They purchase what they like, not what is artistically important.

Next is the problem of casting off anything that offends anyone on the committee. When all the offensive work is removed, what’s left is safe, mediocre.

And then there’s the issue of censoring and silencing voices. Artists who need the show and rely on those sales will rein in any thoughts of pushing themes or style or subject matter. Safe gets you in; experimentation and expansion of ideas gets you kicked out.

When Politics Trump Art

Throughout history, politicians and religious figures have imposed their will upon artists, writers, and philosophers. In 1633, Galileo was found guilty of heresy for saying the earth rotated around the sun, not the other way around. He lived the rest of his life under house arrest. By the way, it took the Catholic Church more than 300 years to admit they were wrong and clear Galileo of heresy.

Oscar Wilde was convicted of gross indecency with men and jailed from 1895 to 1897.

And then there were the artists in Europe in the 30s and 40s who had the audacity to make work that pushed forward the ideas of what art is and its purpose. When Hitler came to power, part of his hatred was turned on modern art and the “degenerate” artists who made such things. The only art permissible was that of bucolic countrysides or heroic images of beautiful Germanic people.

Stalin, too, mandated that art could only depict the communist party and people in a positive light. Art created during his reign was used as propaganda to convince citizens to fight for the motherland and that the conditions under which they lived were really not so bad.

From where I’m standing, I see modernist structures, and the only hint of a classical building I can see is the top of the U.S. dome. That is not what our founders had in mind.

In 2020, then President Trump signed an executive order called, “Make Federal Buildings Beautiful Again.” This order, which has since been rescinded, put forth that all new federal buildings should be beautiful because the “modern” federal buildings, according to Trump, are “just plain ugly.”

Ah, hubris….

Forgetting we belong to each other

Western art is the ugly stepchild of the art world, with good reason. Traditional Western artists who strictly adhere to the genre are often white men who paint pictures of cowboys and Indians. These old tropes are not only derivative but reductive; they perpetuate prejudice and lies. As Dakota Hoska, the curator of Native American Art at the Denver Art Museum curator put it: “Why don’t they tell their own story?”

My goal as a curator of “Western” art was to exhibit art pertaining to the Western U.S. that was relevant and vital and alive. Because we are a strong community of artists, the vast majority of whom want to create work now, not work that looks backwards.

Curating the Coors Show for nearly three decades was more than a job to me. It was a community of people who brought fresh ideas to the table, each and every year. We made something that challenged the common perspective but did it in a way that invited conversation. The show was, ultimately, a place where artists could be seen and have a voice.

It’s bigger than a job. It’s bigger than sales. It’s about being part of this life. It’s being human and understanding the true meaning of what Mother Theresa diagnosed as the ills of this world when she said, “We have forgotten we belong to each other.”

Blessings in Disguise

Recently, over lunch, I told a dear friend what happened. After listening patiently, he sat back, took a breath and said, “Congratulations!”

He meant it. And though I wasn’t quite ready to look back and laugh, his comment did help me put things into perspective.

After nearly three decades working to build something, it was time to move on. I would not have left had I not been pushed.

And, so, what else is there to do but feel grateful, turn the page, and start anew.

UPDATE

Since posting this, I’ve been told that the people at National Western who did this–and signed the contract that fired me–are telling people my blog has “gross inaccuracies.” So, here’s what you need to decide for yourself….

1. Here’s the proposal I sent the CEO of the Stock Show: 2023 Curator Compensation Proposal.

2. Here’s a copy of the contract I was presented: NWSS Best and Final Curator Contract offer.

3. Check out the site Non Profit Light. They list earnings and salaries for the National Western Stock Show. Note that Paul Andrews is paid nearly half a million a year and that all but one of the directors are men.

4. And here’s the ethical standard for non profit pertaining to paying commissions, which they call, “not appropriate.”

Please feel free to leave comments below and, as always, thanks for reading!

The Death of Art Criticism

The loss of local newspapers has led to the decline in coverage of the arts and the near extinction of art criticism.

I get it. Papers have had to slim down, cut the fat, make their staff wear many hats. I also understand that reporting on the arts is not exactly hard-hitting journalism. But what really frustrates me is that papers have deputized any old staff writer as “Art Critic.” The result is that the deputized journalist is let loose to wander into the art world with a head full of hubris and a mind lacking true understanding.

A Tale of Two Meanings: Crit-ic (noun)

Definition one:

A person who judges the merits of literary, artistic, or musical works, especially one who does so professionally, as in, “A film critic.”

Similar: commentator, observer, pundit, expert, authority, arbiter, appraiser, analyst.

Definition two:

A person who expresses an unfavorable opinion of something.

Similar: detractor, censurer, attacker, backbiter, vilifier, denigrator, belittler, traducer.

What's in a Name

The biggest problem with the ersatz art critics of the world is that we have come to accept their writing as actual art criticism. It simply isn’t. It’s just one person’s negative opinion, i.e., too much backbiter and not nearly enough authority.

Because knowledge is power, I’m diving into art criticism and what makes this form of writing so valuable and what we’re missing when we don’t get real critics to do this work.

Wayne Thiebaud on Left-handed Compliments

In my 2009 interview with Wayne Thiebaud (1920-2021), I asked about Edward Hopper.

Thiebaud called Hopper a very good painter of whom the art world had done a disservice. He brought up Clement Greenberg–arguably one of the most influential art critics of the 20th century–as an example.

Greenberg says something like this, and it’s an art world kind of way of putting down someone but not too far because they are so well considered by so many people…Greenberg says,
“If Hopper were a better painter, he wouldn’t be such a great artist.”
You give that to a student and the student has to puzzle that out. If you are useful to the student, you make sure that he understands something like that because it’s a central question.

Tennis, Anyone?

Speaking of left-handed compliments, here’s one I recently endured courtesy of the Denver Post’s “art critic” Ray Rinaldi.

The annual Coors Western Art Exhibit has been going on for a good 30 years now and, like a lot of things at the National Western Stock Show, its value comes from the fact that it never really changes.

From here Rinaldi talks about how the show has expanded and diversified…so not stayed the same. Then he writes that the scenery is on repeat, which he follows with a comment stating that the show is staying current by raising issues in the West. It continues in this manner–a nauseating set of left-handed compliments–to the end.

To make matters worse, he sprinkles in his own experience at the exhibit, complete with misspellings and personal meanderings that reflect more about himself and almost nothing about the art.

At one point Rinaldi states that “walking into the show can be a lot like joining a family holiday.” But that’s the extent of his analogy; he never completes the thought beyond suggesting that artists in the show get on his nerves.

He does list the names of artists he’s familiar with–and with whom the art world greatly respects and so he can’t say anything too terrible about, as Thiebaud suggests. But he then goes on to belittle and dismiss everyone else. Sadly, he misinterprets one piece based on its title. This becomes a missed opportunity to delve into the artist and backstory. Not only does he glance over the sculpture but he misidentifies the work as a “hog,” not a coyote. Had Rinaldi looked just a little longer and dug just a little bit further he might have learned not only about art, but about animal behavior that so brilliantly sheds light on human behavior.

Most unfortunately, what we never get from Rinaldi’s writing is a true dialogue about the show, the subject matter, the artists, or the reason for the show.

In other words, his job of guiding us through an exhibit as an authority who is judging its merits never happens. The “review” comes off as petty. In fact, we learn more about Rinaldi’s temperament and inability to extricate himself from an experience than we do about the experience.

Ah, hubris.

Christopher Knight: the Unicorn

So what does good art criticism look like?

There’s a reason Christopher Knight won the Pulitzer Prize in 2020: he’s really good. He brings a depth of knowledge and intimate understanding of the LA art scene from museum to street level. He looks. He digests. He finds meaning. He does this by spending time with art in order to understand the work and make important connections, which actually help us interpret it and, thereby, our world.

Knight shines in his review, “Unicorns are just one of the wild rides in the Getty’s ‘Marvelous Book of Beasts,'” from July 23, 2019, LA Times.

In it, he draws on his vast knowledge of art, history, and Christianity. He kicks off the piece with a bit of insight into the life of Marco Polo who had thought he’d seen a unicorn on his travels, which he wrote about as, “‘Tis a passing ugly beast to look upon.” Of course, Polo hadn’t seen a unicorn, Knight points out, but probably glimpsed a rhino.

Here’s an excerpt:

Unicorns proliferate in the first room of “Book of Beasts: The Bestiary in the Medieval World,” a sumptuous exhibition at the J. Paul Getty Museum. An animal surrogate for Christ’s cleansing purity, unicorns turn up in pictures drawn and painted in the vellum pages of books, carved into the side of an ivory box and the seat of a parade saddle made of bone, woven into a wool and silk tapestry, stained into window glass, hammered into a brass dish, molded to form a ritual water vessel and embroidered into delicate linen cloth.

Knight proceeds to walk us through the exhibit as if we were asked to join him. He regales us with more insights and points out hidden gems along the way. He refers to the curator’s writing and didactic materials, and soon an exhibit that, upon first glance sounded like a stuffy theoretical walk through the Getty archives, has come alive.

But when he takes us to the final room in the exhibit, he offers this:

If only the exhibit had also ended there. Unfortunately, there’s one more room to go, and it misfires.

Wait! What?

I’m hooked on this show because Knight has, through his well-trained lens, offered me a deeper understanding of the exhibit and drawn insightful connections to the human condition. But why did the show misfire? My curiosity is piqued and so I read on.

Seventeen minor specimens of Modern and contemporary art…suddenly catapult us almost 300 years into the future. The exhibition’s closing narrative is disjunctive. What happened between the 17th and 20th centuries is anyone’s guess.

What We Learn

Personally, as a curator, I truly appreciate and am grateful for this section of the review. First and foremost, I want to get better at my work, so hearing why an exhibit misfires is instructional. But too, I know I’ve fallen into the trap of trying to do too much, thinking more is better (which would have been a legitimate critique of the Coors Show).

Knight gives us the reason why this final room of art does exactly the opposite.

Art museums now seem to feel that topical relevance is somehow served by appending recent art to exhibitions otherwise anchored in a historical epoch. Here, reducing the medieval bestiary to a contemporary footnote makes for a listless conclusion to an otherwise strong and compelling show.

I Think I Finally Understand

Rinaldi’s article showed up on one of my social media feeds along with his comment, “I think I finally understand the Coors Show.” If he did finally gain some understanding, he didn’t share it with us.

The late, great art critic, Peter Schjeldahl, in his farewell column to readers of the Village Voice, beautifully addresses the kind of ambivalence Rinaldi stumbles over:

I hazard that about 80 percent of my Voice writing was strongly affirmative in tone, with about 10 percent strongly negative and the same proportion sullenly mixed. Regrets? A few, mostly in the “mixed” category. Critics should shut up when they can’t decide how they feel, not that it’s always possible on a deadline.

Amen to that.

Check out these Critics to read more good writing about art...

Peter Schjeldahl (1942-2022) wrote for The New Yorker for many wonderful years. Here’s a link to “T.C. Cannon’s Blazing Promise,” the review of the 2019 retrospective of Cannon’s work at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian.

Cannon dealt directly with being at once Native and American and, while he was at it, a citizen of the world. He did so in the name of a higher, though difficult and lonely, allegiance. He wrote in a letter from Vietnam, “How thoughtful of God to provide such a life-stream such as art.” -Peter Schjeldahl

Rebecca Solnit is an incredibly prolific writer. Here’s a quote from an article in Cosmo titled, “How I Became a Writer, Historian, and Activist”:

Counter-criticism… seeks to expand the work of art, by connecting it, opening up its meanings, inviting in the possibilities. A great work of criticism can liberate a work of art, to be seen fully, to remain alive, to engage in a conversation that will not ever end but will instead keep feeding the imagination. Not against interpretation, but against confinement, against the killing of the spirit. Such criticism is itself great art. -Rebecca Solnit

Roberta Smith is an art critic for the New York Times. Check out “Roberta Smith on Donald Judd’s ARTnews writings: ‘A Great Template for Art Criticism.’

Everything around you can be analyzed in terms of its visual presence…the great thing about art is that there’s more than you can ever know about, you can’t learn it all. And you’re lucky if you get to spend your lifetime trying to. –Roberta Smith

Michael Kimmelman, critic for the New York Times has several books out. One of my favorites is “Portraits: Talking with Artists at the Met, the Modern, the Louvre, and Elsewhere.” I’m including him here because he’s not the usual critic. Here’s an excerpt from an interview about his book, “The Accidental Masterpiece”:

To keep your eyes open can be remarkably difficult. People typically go to museums and feel that unless they have been told where and how to look, they won’t know what they’re seeing. So they don’t trust themselves to look. No wonder they’re resentful and feel left out. I know the feeling. It took me a while to learn how to open my eyes. Talking with artists helped. I once wrote a book about going around museums with artists and I saw how they looked at the same art differently, through their own perspectives, which proved that there is no single, correct way to look at art. That’s the essence of art—good art—that it refuses to be reducible to one message or idea, so the more you look, the more you can find. It’s a metaphor for life, I think. –Michael Kimmelman

For more insight into the history and genre of art criticism, check out “16 Art Critics Who Changed the Way We Look at Art,” in Artsy.

Want to read that entire Wayne Thiebaud interview? Here ya go! Enjoy.

Wayne Thiebaud, part one

May 25, 2020 No Comments

I interviewed Wayne Thiebaud on March 16, 2009, at the LaBaron’s Fine Art Gallery, in Sacramento, California. It was a drizzly morning but the gallery’s

Wayne Thiebaud, Part Two

May 25, 2020 No Comments

I interviewed Wayne Thiebaud on March 16, 2009, at the LaBaron’s Fine Art Gallery, in Sacramento, California. It was a drizzly morning but the gallery’s

Wayne Theibaud, Part Three

May 25, 2020 No Comments

I interviewed Wayne Thiebaud on March 16, 2009, at the LaBaron’s Fine Art Gallery, in Sacramento, California. It was a drizzly morning but the gallery’s

The Memory of Things

Here’s something I’ve been wondering. Is it possible to feel an artist’s intention through a work of art? In other words, does art hold the memory of the hands that made it?

Stop Making Sense

Yes, I know I’ve been missing in action for a couple months (no, not ready to go there yet) and now I’m hitting you up with this bit of metaphysical silliness. But the idea that things carry the memory of their creator has been on my mind for some time now.

Maybe it’s this time of year, my favorite time of year: short, cold days and long quiet nights that beg for stories to be conjured.

And so, here are a few winter stories, just for you…

One: The Art of Sushi

Years ago, my friend Quang Ho and I were eating at a sushi place we love. We sat at the bar, in front the owner, Toshi, who was making the most beautiful plates of food, each morsel a tiny mouth-watering sculpture.

Needless to say, we ate until bursting and then ate some more. Quang and Toshi, who had known each other for years, caught up on family and friends and the art world. But Toshi was visibly irritated throughout the course of our meal.

Suddenly, he nodded toward a chef at the other end of the bar and said he would never eat that man’s food. We were puzzled. The offending chef was gregarious and had the couples in front of him in stitches. Toshi shook his head, disgusted. He said that people in Japan will wait in line for hours to order sushi from their favorite chef because each chef puts his intention into the food. The gregarious chef, Toshi said, was not paying attention to his work; he was more interested in being the center of attention. Because of this, that chef’s food would surely induce indigestion.

Two: The Sound of the Ocean

I am 7 or 8 years old, standing on a beach washed in the guazy light of a summer sun, the sound of the waves lulling me into drowsy contentment.

Here, give me your hands, my father says. I reach up and he sets a conch shell on my open palms. The magnificent shell is sun-bleached on the outside but as I turn it over there, inside, it is smooth and pink and curves and spirals in on itself. What a beautiful puzzle.

Hold it to your ear, I am told. Shh. Do you hear it? That’s the sound of the ocean, the sound of the waves. The shell remembers the waves and sings when you hold it to your ear.

How sublime! And yet how sad to carry a memory as a song for anyone who picks you up to enjoy while you wait helplessly to be returned to your home.

I don’t know why I looked up this phenomenon of shells and the sound of waves, but according to an article in Live Science, Trevor Cox, a professor of acoustic engineering at the University of Salford in the United Kingdom explained it this way:

“The seashell is like a wind instrument. It has a set of resonant frequencies where the air inside the shell will vibrate more strongly. Hold the shell to your ear, and it is those frequencies in the ambient sound that get amplified. Because the sound changes, your brain pays attention to it.”

Yeah, whatever, Trevor…

Three: The Song of a Soul

Jump ahead for our next story. A tale from this summer past, remembered in the twilight moments before I drift off to sleep, my dog Buster lying next to me, his old, achy body curled up close to mine. He is warm and asleep in moments while I try to get comfortable without disturbing him. Finally, I lay a hand on his back and breathe with him, slow and deep.

In the morning, I wake carefully feeling him next to me. He doesn’t stir. This is new. He is always the first to wake but now he sleeps late and waits until the last possible moment before leaving the warmth of the bed.

He is here this week then back to stay with my ex, who doesn’t let him sleep in the bed. But even after he leaves, it’s like he’s here because I see him in the usual places and talk to him before I catch myself. Oh, right, I am talking to a memory.

How surreal, to feel his presence in his absence, in the middle of the night and throughout the day, to catch a glimpse of his ear twitching from where he normally sleeps on the couch with his paws resting over his nose.

Maybe it’s nothing more than my deep desire to have him back but the memory of him is so vivid that, for a few unhurried moments before reality comes sharply into focus, I know he is with me.

It was selfish, maybe, to keep him alive for so long. But what a burden to make a decision for a being who cannot express his own desire. His heart was giving out, the vet said. Yes, but he’s still eating and happy, I replied. My boys agreed and added, He’s happy and active, so why are you writing him off?

Looking back, I think Buster kept going because it was his job to watch over us. On the day he passed from this world, I held him and told him we would be ok, he could go. I didn’t believe a word of it.

It’s been months and here, in the heart of the winter, the physical sensation of his presence is still sentient. And no, I don’t believe in ghosts, not exactly. What I’m suggesting is that I think people, animals, and even certain objects carry a spirit–an echo, maybe–that we can feel and connect to whether the living, breathing body is there or not.

“Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love. They depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog, it merely expands the heart.” -Erica Jong

Four: The Here After

My friend Cathy came over a couple weeks ago. Late afternoon coffee turned into dinner followed by cups of tea. We curled up like cats on either end of the sofa and talked into the evening. At some point, I can’t remember why or how, the conversation turned to the afterlife.

Do you believe in reincarnation, I asked, sensing she was headed there but unsure of whether to broach the topic. I do, she said, yes, I do. In fact, she added, I’ve learned I had past lives.

I do like the idea of reincarnation, partly, because I was raised Catholic and never felt satisfied with the tight-laced answers the church offered. I am now more of a traveler through other mythologies and have come to believe that if there is a god and a divine order to life, that god would have to be, first and foremost, hysterically funny and second, way, way, waaayy smarter than all of humankind put together.

So, why not past lives and the recycling of souls? It’s a rather comforting notion, isn’t it? I’ve even read that, in the ranking of past lives from young souls to old souls, when you make it to the level of dog, you’ve reached your highest incarnation and can finally come to peace. I like this idea best of all.

Five: A Creation Myth

Let’s say we are surrounded by souls and that we are souls on our own private journey just trying to figure it all out–that the physical body is a vessel from which we will move on–could that also mean that we can impart our spirit (or the impression of our spirit) into the things we touch?

People bring their own baggage to every experience especially when looking at art. I talk about this in my blog, Defending the First Artist In. But I’m not sure that fully explains the abrupt sensation an onlooker has when standing in front of certain works of art. The same can be said about music, literature and poetry, though I think visual art, because it doesn’t move past you in the same way, allows viewers to tune in differently.

Six: What the Dickens?

Maybe it’s the Ebenezer Scrooge effect. You know how Scrooge denied the first ghost of his dead business partner by telling him he was a bit of bad porridge? It took three more ghosts before Scrooge could see the path he was blindly headed down and how he had missed the true joy of connection with others. But it’s never too late!

So, what about this? What if, in the process of creating art, an artist surrenders to a truth, which is the authentic voice of his or her soul? And what if, in doing so, observers throughout time who come with open hearts and minds can take part in the experience the artist had in the creation of this art? Is it possible then that looking at art might be akin to walking with spirits?

Yes, maybe art is simply a shell that, instead of echoing the sounds of the shifting winds blowing past, reflects the mind looking in.

I think, though, because it’s winter and because I like a good tale, that maybe the objects we make with our hands, the things that we pour our life’s knowledge, understanding, intentions, and love into, maybe those things carry a piece of our soul, which can be felt and heard without words by those souls who are open and ready to settle in for a long winter’s eve to hear a story.

Wishing you the happiest of holidays. And, as always, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comment section below.

Defending the First Artist In

Here’s something I don’t get. Why do people lose their minds over art they don’t personally like or understand? I’m talking, write-letters-angry. Call-your-congressman-angry. Bring-a-crowbar-to-the-exhibit-and-destroy-offending-art-angry?!

Why not just, I don’t know, leave?

I can’t speak for all curators, but many of us are trying to put shows together that have a reason for being, that do something more than lull people to sleep. We want people to see something new, to consider the world in a fresh way. And, whenever possible, we want people to feel something.

Maybe that’s the real question.

Why do people get so angry when art makes them feel an emotion?

This is nothing new, people getting their undies in a bunch over art, but in this day and age when zealots can arm themselves and destroy works of art (or attack people making that work) because it offends them, it seems like it’s time to talk about…

How to talk about art.

Years ago, while wandering through Dia Beacon, in New York, with a dear friend, we were confronted by Robert Smithson’s Map of Broken Glass (Atlantis). We were silent for a while until my friend leaned over and whispered, “That’s art?”

I’m going to admit a few things here. First, I didn’t connect the sprawling broken glass sculpture to the Robert Smithson of the Spiral Jetty fame, which is also owned and maintained by Dia.

This lack of knowledge brings me to my second admonition: Fear.

Fear of saying something stupid. Fear of sounding pretentious. Fear of not having the facts or correct terminology or even a good reason for defending something.

That day, standing in front of Smithson’s work with my kind and sophisticated friend who really didn’t get it, we had a great conversation about a pile of glass. (I know, a lot of you are dubious, but stay with me on this.)

I, like many of you, do not hold a degree in art history. My understanding is from years of research, conversations with curators and artists, and more than a few boozy evenings with arty friends discussing, arguing, complaining, and defending art.

And so, after 30 years and more than my share of tequila, I present to you a not-art-history-major’s best tips for understanding and enjoying art, whether you like it or not.

One: Understand Where Art Comes From

I don’t make art for the same reason most people don’t make art: I have nothing original to say in paint or print or clay or any other medium. It’s not my calling.

What I know for a fact after years of working with amazing artists is that it’s really hard to be original.

It’s so hard to be original that, when confronted with something stunningly original, we the viewers owe it to the world to stop and pay attention, whether it’s our cup of tea or not.

I’ll go one step further. Putting yourself in front of art, especially when it elicits an emotional reaction, is vital on a personal and societal level. Artists with truly original visions are the ones who speak the truth when others look away.

A lot of times, art (and theatre and music and film, poetry and writing) that makes us feel agitated is also making us see the world differently; it makes us reconsider our beliefs and values.

And those brave souls who created some of the most challenging works of art are people I call the “First Ones In.” These men and women made works of art born out of, as Mary Oliver called it, “the wild, silky part of ourselves.” The First Ones In did this work knowing the thing they were making would be criticized. In fact, they did it in spite of this awareness.

Two: Maybe your kid could do that BUT he didn't

Yes, there’s some crazy stuff out there that’s called “art.” I’m not part of the inner sanctum of museum curators and gallery directors who push forth sharks in glass cylinders or bananas duct-taped to walls, but I do pay attention when I feel uncomfortable, curious, or agitated by a work of art. Something important is happening here and I need to figure out what that is.

NOTE: The banana thing, in my mind, is derivative of Macel Duchamp’s piece, “Fountain.” Duchamp submitted a urinal to be displayed as a sculpture in the first Society of Independent Artists exhibition held in New York, in 1915. Though he was one of the founders of the Society, “Fountain” was rejected from the exhibit, which caused quite an uproar in the artist community because, principally, the Society was formed to create a place where all art could be exhibited and not censored. According to writing on the Tate Modern website, “Fountain” has been seen as the quintessential example of what Duchamp called “readymade” art: an originally manufactured object designated by the artist as a work of art.

Here’s some text about “Fountain” that appeared in a 1917 article called “The Richard Mutt Case,” that was published in the Blind Man and accompanied by a photograph of the original work taken by Alfred Stieglitz:

Mr Mutt’s fountain is not immoral, that is absurd, no more than a bathtub is immoral. It is a fixture that you see every day in plumbers’ shop windows. Whether Mr Mutt with his own hands made the fountain has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an ordinary article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view – created a new thought for that object.”

In a nutshell...

You would have one hell of a brilliant kid if he or she created work like Pablo Picasso, Jackson Pollock, Joan Mitchell, or Frida Khalo without prior knowledge of these artists’ existence. But your kid didn’t. The kids who made those ground breaking works only existed for a brief, beautiful time; when their lives ended, that work was complete. Everyone who’s made similar work since then is inspired by or simply copying.

This isn’t a bad thing. In fact, so much of what we see in the art world was done by artists who, as Wayne Theibaud put it, stand on the shoulders of giants. In other words, most artists have been trained by someone and have been influenced by many, many others who came before.

In this light, you can consider “Fountain” as the springboard for all kinds of compelling and annoying art like much of what Andy Warhol did by making work that became a running commentary on consumerism.

Bottom line: not all art has aesthetics as its main or only purpose in the world; sometimes it’s a protest, a nudge or a shove into modernity. It is there to make us see our world and the issues we face in a new way.

Three: Make room for the intensity of ambition

In his 2013 critique of an exhibition held at the Museum of Modern Art in New York titled, “Inventing Abstraction, 1910-1925: How a Radical Idea Changed Modern Art,“ Peter Schjeldahl wrote about the Wassily Kandinsky painting, “Impression III (Concert)”:

There is something forced, a hysteria of will, about the work, as there is about the drive of Italian Futurists to represent motion, which stumbles on the fact that paintings hold dead still. But the intensity of ambition of the Futurists and Kandinsky batters misgivings.”

Shows like “Inventing Abstraction” illustrate the very best and most important thing art–especially art we don’t understand–can do for us: it let’s us peer into the world of other cultures, times, and lives. We can read history and memorize dates, but isn’t the history of mankind made more alive with color, shape, and texture as attested to by those who possess an “intensity of ambition that batters misgivings?”

In other words, artists are searching for meaning and new forms of expression. Their work doesn’t hinge on whether you like it or not. Your job is to simply let them do their job.

Four: pause

When art makes you react, even negatively, that’s exactly when you need to stop and pay attention. Then start asking questions.

I dropped in an Agnes Marin painting here to talk about taking a breath before dismissing something or getting angry.

White paintings seem to really piss people off. Below is a video that talks about white paintings and adds some very funny clips of people getting all verklempt.

Suffice it to say, white paintings were not created to piss you off; you really didn’t figure into the creation of them. So, take a breath and consider what the painting is doing inside of you.

Some highlights of this video that I love…

“With a white painting, you have to do a lot more work,” said Elisabeth Sherman, assistant curator at the Whitney Museum, NYC. “But it can be a lot more rewarding.”

“White paintings are a fabulous kind of Rorschach test because they offer viewers an ambiguous canvas upon which they can project their own interpretation, emotions, beliefs, and stories onto,” said Dean Peterson, producer of this video.

“It very easy to be dismissive of things we’re not immediately attracted to, so if you have a negative gut reaction of defensiveness or fear or anxiety or rejection, try to move past that to see what’s available afterwards,” explained Sherman and added,

It doesn’t have to change your mind but sometimes moving through the reaction is when you learn the most about the work but also about yourself.”

All this to say that when challenged by conceptual art, ask questions. You don’t have to like it or want to live with it. In fact, whether you like it or not is completely irrelevant when it comes to experiencing art. Consider these experiences as an opportunity to do a little self-reflection.

Five: If you can't say something nice...

I think disparaging art or anything or anyone you don’t understand is a kind of intolerance that leads us down a slippery slope toward censorship, hate speech and violence. Sorry if that sounds hyperbolic, but you don’t have to look too far into our past to see the ways people have caused tremendous destruction simply over an unwillingness to accept that others have differing opinions or ways of looking at the world.

And really, life is short. Why not let yourself feel your emotions as a way to understand not only art but our collective history?

If you can’t do that, please remember the words of Thumper’s mom–go ahead, say it with me:

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Making Sense of the Price of Art

What artists and collectors need to know about the valuation of art.

I am frequently asked about the price of art. Beginning artists want to know how to get started when they don’t have a track record and established artists wonder if their prices are where they should be. Conversely, collectors want to know how an artist came up with his or her prices and if those prices are appropriate. Thus, a blog to help you do the numbers. Lots to cover, so let’s jump in.

Check for a Pulse

If you are a living artist or a collector, presumably living, and you’re wondering how art is priced, this section is for you.

(Dead artists and deceased collectors, please feel free to skip ahead. You earned it.)

Artists, god love ya, but you can be all over the map with pricing and it’s making my head spin. It’s also causing collectors to wonder if what they’re buying is worth it.

Collectors are buying a product–yes, a work of art they have fallen in love with–but it’s a luxury, which is why they compare your prices to other things they also need or want. Once collectors start doing some mental math and making comparisons, you can bet they’re going to second guess you and themselves.

So, how do you keep collectors from second guessing themselves right out of a purchase?

Excellent question.

Do you need new friends?

I’m sounding like a broken record here, but the art world is famously opaque. Let’s face it, we like obfuscation. It’s, well, arty. And fun. Really fun. Which is why I love writing this blog. The art world provides an endless well of secrets from which to draw.

Artists, here’s the deal. Collectors are smart people. We know they’re smart because they like art. Their friends know they’re smart, too. Their friends are also smart, but not necessarily interested in art, which means they’re not as smart as collectors. Are you with me?

So, these non-collector friends try to hide the fact that they don’t care about art and would rather spend their money selfishly on themselves (kidding…kind of…actually, they’re not reading this so, not kidding). And, non-collectors who haven’t invested the time and energy into learning about art try to hide this lack of savvy by making fun of the art that their collector friends have chosen.

Not cool. But it happens all the time.

Apart from the obvious solution–get new friends–the collector needs access to more knowledge about you and what you’re up to as well as some solid intel when it comes to how you price your work.

Ground Rules

In a nutshell, please adhere to the following:

1. DON’T price by the amount of time it took you. Some pieces take a ridiculous amount of time, others just flow. That’s the life of an artist; you learn to take the victories with the struggles.

2. DON’T price by how much you love the thing you just created. You will create something you love even more. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but you will. Let it go and trust in the process.

3. DON’T price based on what other artists your same age or socio-economic or education level are pricing their work at. This isn’t a race. Wish them well and get back to work.

4. DO, for the love of Pete, price consistently by the square inch. (Dead artists, hang on, I haven’t gotten to you yet.)

Ugh! Math...

Yeah, I hear ya, you went to school for art not math. Don’t worry, we’re not getting fancy here.

Step 1. Figure out the square inch, which is height x width.

8 x 10 = 80 square inches

Easy peasy.

Step 2. Assign a dollar amount. (I’ll help you figure this out next.)

Here’s what happens when you pick one amount and stick with it for every size painting you create.

8 x 10 inches = 80 x $5/sq in = $400

16 x 20 inches = 320 x $5/sq in = $1,600

30 x 40 inches = 1200 x $5/sq in = $6,000

The small ones are a little low and the big ones are kind of high.

The Sliding Scale

When you adjust by assigning the smaller works a higher square inch price and reduce that amount as you get bigger, it starts to feel more equitable. And, for lots of artists, this gets a little closer to assigning an hourly wage to the work, since creating art takes time no matter what size you’re working on.

8 x 10 inches = 80 x $10/sq in = $800

16 x 20 inches = 320 x $7/sq in = $2,240

30 x 40 inches = 1200 x $5/sq in = $6,000

Where to Start When You're Starting

My very best advice for those of you who haven’t started selling your work (and no, sales to friends and family don’t count):

Price it low, sell it fast, and use the proceeds to buy more supplies.

Here’s why. When you over-value your early work–yes, it took you a long time and you’re proud of the breakthrough pieces–buyers don’t get why a novice’s work is so expensive relative to artists who’ve been in the market a lot longer.

The next thing you know, the collector is making comparisons. End result: no sale.

Same with dealers and curators. If you price your work too high, we evaluate your work based on what’s out there, but when we check out your accomplishments and don’t find any, we know you have an unrealistic and overinflated sense of your work, and will take great offense if we even brooch the topic of prices. So, we take a hard pass.

The other really, really important thing about selling work at affordable prices when you are just starting out is that you won’t have stacks of inventory piling up. This means you won’t be hanging on to that one amazing work that is your all time best ever. Because when you hang on to the best ever thing you’ve made, it will sit in your studio and taunt you. It will whisper: You’ll never do anything better. Give up. It’s useless to continue.

When to give yourself a raise

There are a number of factors to suss out before raising your prices.

1. Consider taking a 10% increase every 1-2 years. This is a small enough amount to not be readily noticed and scare people off, but big enough that collectors can see that their “investment” in you is going up.

2. Check the economic forecast. If we’re headed into a recession, maybe hold off another year.

3. Know your client base. If you’re clients are in the tech industry, for example, consider how things are going in their world. If everything is booming, no matter what the economy is doing, you might be ok with a price increase.

NOTE: If you never take a price increase, you could see your collector base become as stagnant as your prices. Keeping your prices at the same rate may feel safe, but in the long-run, that security blanket will drag you right into obscurity. The market wants to see a recognition of your growth and success in the form of a price increase, so take it.

Can I adjust for gallery commissions

That’s a big NO.

Think of your work and the prices you command like any other commodity. There is a price it trades for, that price is listed in shows, on wall tags and websites, which means it’s verifiable. And collectors WILL verify your prices. If they see prices are higher in one place and less elsewhere, two very bad things happen.

First, buyers will go around your galleries and exhibitions and call you directly. Dealers always hear about this and will kick you out of their world faster than you can say, “Oh, crap, Rose warned me about this!” On top of that, now you’re in the position of having to haggle and sell yourself when you really should be in the studio making art.

Second, you have devalued your work to the lowest number listed anywhere your work is for sale. Why would anyone pay more?

Remember, collectors don’t always know why something is priced as it’s priced, but they are smart enough to know when things look fishy. And there are simply too many terrific artists who are being consistent with their prices; collectors don’t need to go through the hassle of figuring out a pricing system that doesn’t make sense.

Framing and other considerations

Instead of adjusting your prices to the frame, select frames that are roughly 10-15% of your retail price for that work. For example, a $1,000 painting should have a frame that cost you $100-$150.

Shipping…yeah, that’s a tough one. And now most shows won’t pay for work coming to them or going back to you. Consider investing in air float crates. They are pricy, but you can reuse them many times. Plus they weigh less than wooden crates, which are unwieldily and cost ridiculous amounts of money to send. (And often arrive damaged because delivery people drop them or run fork lifts through them….)

Buying from the dearly departed

COLLECTORS, if you’ve dipped a toe into the deceased art market, you know all bets are off when figuring out pricing.

I covered some of this in my last blog, Collect Like a Pro, which gave you all tips and tricks for navigating the market. Basically, when art hits the secondary market, the prices are determined by a few factors:

Supply and demand
Importance of that work amid the artist’s entire body of work, i.e. was it a seminal piece that marked a major turning point in the aritst’s career?
Quality of the work–is there any damage, has it been conserved, etc.
Provenance–who owned it and whether that collection was important.
Exhibitions, awards, honors, etc., for the work and the artist.

Collectors who are considering buying historically significant works would be best advised to work with an art consultant or go through a trusted gallery. There are a LOT of fakes out there. An advisor can help you find and buy work that is within your budget and has the pedigree you want for your investment.

An Art Afterlife insurance policy

ARTISTS, this is important. When you’re gone, dealers and collectors will be the judge and jury of your work using the above criteria. Remember when I said not to price things based on how much time it took you or how much you liked a work of art? It still doesn’t matter…right now; what does matter is that you keep a record of those breakthrough works and why they were important. Also, record info about your process and who you were palling around with at the time.

The things that hurt the secondary market valuation of art:

Bad auction sales
Lack of visibility in national shows
No catalogues or other critical writing about your work (i.e., astute writing by authorities in the art world)

Here are some things to do now to support the valuation of your work and boost your prices while you can enjoy the dough:

Write things down about work that is important to you.
Try to get your best work into major exhibitions so there is a record of those pieces.
Work with galleries to get prominent collectors to purchased important works.
Seek museums to collect your work, even if that means a discount or donation.

If you’re still wondering about pricing, ask fellow artists and dealers to chime in. And feel free to send me an email. I’ll take a look and give you my two-cents.

Collect Like a Pro

From genealogy searches to knowing how to sniff out pinnacle works of art, adopting the habits of serious collectors can make you a more savvy collector.

No big surprise here: art collectors are a curious breed. Curious for many reason but one of my favorites is that many believe they were born collectors, like it’s a genetic thing. (OK, personally, I kind like this theory; it makes me sound less like a common hoarder and more like, well, an eccentric hoarder.)

Collectors are also quite rare. According to research by Larry’s List published in 2015, there are just 8,000 to 10,000 art collectors in the world. The world. Seriously, there are like a bazillion people in the world, give or take, so you do the math.

By “collector,” I’m talking about people who are avidly putting together a body of work that has a focus. Often their collected works far exceed their wall space, which doesn’t phase them. Collectors are in hot pursuit of the perfect object, always, whether they’re looking or not. And, yes, they’re always looking.

There are, of course, lots more people who buy art to have a few nice things. Their buying habits are a little different than the highly dedicated collectors and range from making impulse purchases while on vacation to buying because they met the artist at an event and really like him or her.

Some buyers work with advisors or interior designers and get things that, well, match the drapery. I’m not knocking drapery or saying you’re not a real collector if you aren’t buying with some lofty goal in mind; art speaks to us all and, heck, if it happens to tie the whole room together–bonus! (OK, now I’m thinking of Jeff Lebowski’s rug, the one that tied the room together…. But I digress.)

Desperately Seeking Art Wonks

Because I love the diehards, the wonks, the nerds, and the poor souls who fall down the rabbit hole of any creative pursuit for days on end, this blog is all about what makes the hardcore art collector tick.

ARTISTS: My hope is that this will help you better understand what collectors are looking for when they buy.

ART BUYERS, PATRONS AND ENTHUSIASTS: read on for some great ideas that might help you in your own pursuit.

And so, to tackle the ins and outs of building a collection, I called on long time Denver art collector, Rob Lewis, who believes that anyone not born a collector has a hard time understanding the passion of those who are and that at the heart of the collector is an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Amen to that.

Finding Your Niche

According to Rob, the most natural place to start a collection is with things you love. Truth be told, I’m not the biggest fan of this approach as a stand-alone and write about some ways to avoid making too many costly mistakes early on. Check out: Buy What You Love or…Try This Approach Instead for ways to help refine your search.

But, at the end of the day, buying what you love and what most intrigues you is exactly how Rob started collecting, and is his best advice for novice collectors.

He went on to say that when you buy what you love, the objects you collect are imbued with personal meaning; they tell a story. Over time, these objects come to connect your life emotionally, aesthetically, intellectually, and financially.

He delineates art buyers from serious collectors in this manner:

“Collectors don’t buy things to decorate their home or office; we collect to fill our lives.”

Rob discovered his passion for the American West not long after moving to Denver. “I wanted to learn about the art that was being created in this region during the 20^th Century. It was perennially overlooked and under-appreciated. The more I learned, the more I realized that there was an incredible body of work that was readily available. I started in the early 20^th century with post-impressionism and followed the progression of Modernism to Abstract Expressionism.”

Over time, he learned to discern the quintessential examples by artists from each era. Along the way, he says he’s made many mistakes but that every mistake was an important learning experience.

It’s also expanded his world in ways he hadn’t expected when he started. “One of the most valuable benefits of collecting has been the acquaintances I’ve made. Artists, family members, scholars, curators, dealers, and most especially, other collectors. I’m truly grateful for all those who have shared their knowledge and friendship with me.”

Check out the website, Modernist West, to see more of his dedicated collection.

Good, Better, Best : Becoming a Connoisseur

Developing a great eye and aesthetic sensibilities comes with time and exposure to art through reading, visiting museums, attending lectures, and talking to experts such as curators, dealers, and other experienced collectors. In my experience, I’ve found that people in the art community are very giving with knowledge, if you ask, but they can suss out the folks who aren’t in it for the right reasons. More on this later.

“I think the art of collecting is connoisseurship,” Rob said. “You learn to distinguish between good, better, and best by looking at objects and learning why one is better than another.”

Think of connoisseurs as the ninjas of collecting; they have the ability to see which objects among an array of similar things are superior. Part of developing this knowledge comes with understanding the evolution of an artist’s career. Early on, an artist emulates his or her teachers. A connoisseur knows this and avoids buying derivative works, which will not hold as much value as the later pieces that carry the artist’s individual voice.

“A successful artist,” Rob said, “will create something truly original: a unique artistic expression. A connoisseur strived to acquire an example of an artist’s work that demonstrates the artist’s unique contribution.”

And he added, pieces you consider buying should be ones that are immediately identifiable as being by that artist.

“It should be a quintessential example at the height of their creative output. It should be a work that is closest to the moment of the artist’s unique artistic inspiration. Later works that repeat and refine the original inspiration are less satisfying.”

Quality is paramount, and yet, all too often art buyers are looking for a bargain. “A great work of art is far more valuable than a great deal,” Rob said. “Size is not the determining factor; a small gem may be far more valuable than a large, unsuccessful piece.”

Buy the Best, Avoid the Rest

Rob collects with this motto in mind: “Buy the best, avoid the rest.” He actually uses a little more colorful language, but basically, you want to get the seminal works by every artist you collect and take a hard pass on the lesser works. This is where having a focus and doing some leg work will really help, in particular, when buying work by deceased artists, which, in Rob’s case, is all he collects.

With living artist, if you are seriously wanting to get into collecting, I strongly suggest you get to know the artists whose work intrigues you.

The the most satisfied collectors I know are the ones who have developed personal relationships with the artists they collect. In so doing, everything they own has much more personal meaning. It tells a story–yes a story of the artist–but the collector gets to add his or her own story to it.

This is easier said than done, especially if you are not immersed in the art scene. And, honestly, some of the most important works done in an artist’s lifetime are sometimes the most difficult to live with; they are too confrontational or too intense. Sometimes it takes years for society to catch up with what artists are putting out in the world; it’s easier and safer for people to poo-poo something strange or radically new than it is to stand up for works of art that make others feel uncomfortable. But this is the art the connoisseur wants because it will bear witness to something very personal and, in so doing, something universal.

Because connoisseurs want quintessential works of art, they can, in their haste when something comes up for sale, be fooled by an imitation—that piece of art that was too good to be true. Knowing how much research Rob does, I was surprised by his answer when I asked if he’d ever bought a fake.

His response:

"You haven’t lived until you’ve bought a fake."

How to avoid buying a fake?

In a word: provenance.

Provenance is the record of ownership and is used to establish legitimacy of a work of art by tracing it to the source, whenever possible. If you’re buying from a living artist, provenance is easy. Your job is to keep good records should you decide to sell. With deceased artists, it can get murky and often requires some sleuthing, but this will be time well spent, especially if you can avoid a costly mistake.

When researching provenance, Rob suggests asking the following questions:

Where and when was the piece created? What were the circumstances of its creation? Was it exhibited? Where and when? Are there written reviews of its exhibition? Was it acquired by a museum or someone important? Was it stolen? Is the piece signed by the artist? Is there an inscription on the piece? Was the piece conserved or altered in any way?

Collecting on a Budget

We are all bound by our financial circumstances. Luckily, there are many places to start that do not require large sums of money, such as hand-pulled prints and photography. But again, consider first and foremost what most intrigues you. From there, Rob stresses that you should never pursue collecting for financial gain.

“If you acquire the best of the best,” he said, “and you have a bit of luck, your collection may appreciate substantially.”

Here’s a little known secret of the art world…

Lots of collectors and dealer won’t sell to someone who is buying for the wrong reasons. I know this sounds crazy, especially if you’re under the impression that everyone in the art world is starving.

The art market can be exclusionary, secretive, and opaque. It is also very small and gossipy, so much so that bargain hunters might discover that they have been blackballed on a national level from buying desirable works. They may also learn they have not even been given the opportunity to buy seminal pieces.

There are several reasons why. Bargain hunter’s collections are often replete with inferior works purchased for the autograph, not the quality. Dealers and artists don’t want important work seen amid a sea of bad art.

Second reason: no collectors want to discover their efforts in finding quintessential pieces was for naught, that those pieces have been locked away in storage. Many collectors won’t sell their best things to a rookie buyer but will instead hold out for the opportunity to place those important objects in a museum where they can be shared with a larger audience.

The third reason is that bargain hunters, simply by making low-ball offers, have shown their lack of commitment to collecting and their inferior aesthetic sensibility.

Paying a Fair Price

Part of connoisseurship is understanding the market. To build your knowledge, keep track of national sales and auction results. Over time you’ll see how works of similar sizes, by the same artist, go for very different prices–sometimes dramatically different. You’ll learn, through this exercise, what makes one work of art more desirable than all the others.

The mistake new collectors make with this information, however, is vital to understand. Pricing by the square inch is for works by living artists. Pricing of work by deceased artists is based on provenance—who owned it—and by those quintessential qualities that make that particular piece more desirable amid an artist’s entire oeuvre.

Experienced connoisseurs often know the works they want to add to their collection and where those pieces are hiding or where they were last seen. They also know that the most prized works rarely sell in a gallery or at auction; they are bought and sold quietly and discretely and only into collections where the work will be cherished, protected and available should a museum want access.

So, what do you do if you find a work of art you desperately want only to learn the price is out of your range? You have two options: pony up or walk away.

Finding Unique Objects

Collectors are hunters; they are constantly on the prowl.

“The internet is a godsend for collectors,” Rob said. “I research the period that I collect, and delve into archives to find newspaper articles, exhibition catalogues, inventories, and correspondence. I will even do genealogical searches to track down family members and colleagues. I’m in contact with dealers, galleries, auctions, curators, and scholars. And, most importantly, I communicate with other collectors.”

Know What You Don't Know

“As a collector, I have learned so much from so many,” Rob said. “I’ve had many mentors, advisors, and colleagues. It’s what makes collecting so gratifying. I have been surprised at the willingness of others to share their knowledge and insight. Everyone as an opinion, and it may not be the same as your own, but it may be valuable. You may start as a collector, but if you listen carefully, you will become a connoisseur.”

Author: Rose Fredrick

Social Media & Art Sales

Why Social Media Isn't Your Best Selling Tool

How Do You Turn Browsers into Buyers?

How to Grow Your Email List

Compelling Reason #1: Send Awesome Newsletters

How to Create Awesome Newsletters

The Secret to Email Success: Change the Conversation

Compelling Reason #2: Blogs

5 Reasons Why You Should Blog

Compelling Reason #3: Use Your Images

Want Some Help?

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How to Succeed as an Artist

Inspiration

A Note About This Exhibit & Blog

Madeline Wiener, stone sculptor

Autumn T. Thomas, wood and mixed media sculptor

Pati Stajcar, bronze, wood, and stone sculptor

Alex Branch, interdisciplinary

Subscribe to my blog to get news of new writing, and please feel free to pass on my blog to others. As always, thanks for reading!

where do you find new artists?

Where dealers are NOT finding new artists?

What About Emails?

The Big Takeaway

How Important Is Your Online Presence?

Keeping up: Tips for Managing Social Media

Qualities of a successful Artist-Dealer Relationship

How to Approach Galleries: What Not to Do

Fun Fact About Most Dealers

Tips for Submitting Your Work

Is the Process Worth It?

Final Thoughts: Playing the Long Game

Do you need help putting together your presentation pitch to galleries: cover letter, artists statement, CV, etc.? I can tackle this for you. Schedule some time with me to discuss.

Competing against yourself

How You See Yourself

Staying In Front of Fear

Listen to Your Mentors

Explore the Unknown

Don't Get Too Comfortable

Experiment

Work is Play / Play is Work

Visit JoellynDuesberry.com to see more of her work.

Want to learn more about Artists Marketing?

Uninspired

The Big Backlash​

Minding My Manners

When Committees Tell Artists What to Make

When Politics Trump Art

Forgetting we belong to each other

Blessings in Disguise

UPDATE

Since posting this, I’ve been told that the people at National Western who did this–and signed the contract that fired me–are telling people my blog has “gross inaccuracies.” So, here’s what you need to decide for yourself….

1. Here’s the proposal I sent the CEO of the Stock Show: 2023 Curator Compensation Proposal.

2. Here’s a copy of the contract I was presented: NWSS Best and Final Curator Contract offer.

3. Check out the site Non Profit Light. They list earnings and salaries for the National Western Stock Show. Note that Paul Andrews is paid nearly half a million a year and that all but one of the directors are men.

4. And here’s the ethical standard for non profit pertaining to paying commissions, which they call, “not appropriate.”

A Tale of Two Meanings: Crit-ic (noun)

What's in a Name

Wayne Thiebaud on Left-handed Compliments

Greenberg says something like this, and it’s an art world kind of way of putting down someone but not too far because they are so well considered by so many people…Greenberg says,

“If Hopper were a better painter, he wouldn’t be such a great artist.”

You give that to a student and the student has to puzzle that out. If you are useful to the student, you make sure that he understands something like that because it’s a central question.

Tennis, Anyone?

The annual Coors Western Art Exhibit has been going on for a good 30 years now and, like a lot of things at the National Western Stock Show, its value comes from the fact that it never really changes.

Christopher Knight: the Unicorn

If only the exhibit had also ended there. Unfortunately, there’s one more room to go, and it misfires.

Wait! What?

Seventeen minor specimens of Modern and contemporary art…suddenly catapult us almost 300 years into the future. The exhibition’s closing narrative is disjunctive. What happened between the 17th and 20th centuries is anyone’s guess.

What We Learn

Art museums now seem to feel that topical relevance is somehow served by appending recent art to exhibitions otherwise anchored in a historical epoch. Here, reducing the medieval bestiary to a contemporary footnote makes for a listless conclusion to an otherwise strong and compelling show.

I Think I Finally Understand

Check out these Critics to read more good writing about art...

Everything around you can be analyzed in terms of its visual presence…the great thing about art is that there’s more than you can ever know about, you can’t learn it all. And you’re lucky if you get to spend your lifetime trying to. –Roberta Smith

Want to read that entire Wayne Thiebaud interview? Here ya go! Enjoy.

Stop Making Sense

One: The Art of Sushi

Two: The Sound of the Ocean

Three: The Song of a Soul

Four: The Here After

The Big Backlash