(Note: I posted this yesterday, but realized it would make a good Friday Tips discussion.  Besides, it’s Friday night and I’m late for a dinner party.  Does this mean I’m cheating?  Yeah, a little, but I did broaden the topic.) 

I was asked to speak before an influential group of retired businessmen and women this past summer. By “influential” I basically mean millionaires.  But listen, not all rich folks are jerks.  Many started with nothing, never forgot where they came from, and are generous beyond description, especially with the underprivileged.  Several of those types were present.

They dug the talk, the relevance of participating in the arts in our region, and helping the region to grow culturally. Nice round of applause. Most came up to thank me afterward, and I knew I’d won a few new clients. But one dude, inevitably, came up to tell me about his son’s practice, how they couldn’t afford art (yeah, right), but would I be willing to loan them works in exchange for the “exposure” the artists would get?

I thought of Louie Copt’s standard response to this kind of presumption: “Man, I know artists who have died of exposure.”

But as the art dealer I have to be diplomatic. So I just gave the dude a card, telling him in a certain tone that I’d think about it. He never called, apparently able to read a tone.  Man, some people. I mean, do you think this guy ever worked for free?

My point?  When you’re an emerging artist, you’ll inevitably have to do these gigs.  We all have.  But here are the rules:

1)  The host insures the work for its retail value.

2)  The exhibition should last no longer than 60 days.

3)  A table will be cleared for your cards, bios, press, etc.

4)  All works will be priced with a title card.

5)  A guest book will be set out where browsers can write their contact info.

6)  Offer a 10% commission to all the office workers, should they facilitate a sale.  Believe me it works, and is better than retaining 100% of nothin.

7)  Offer the host a discount at the end of the exhibit, if it helps to place a piece.

We never sold much doing these exhibits, since it normally takes a sales person to sell anything, including art.  But we did pick up a few clients, the hosts were grateful, and many later became collectors.  However, if the host has no interest in your work personally, I advise you not do it.  It’s important that they feel passion for what you do, so that the passion will become infectious.

David, by You Know Who

What many people outside the arts don’t understand, is that succeeding in this gig takes as much discipline as it does for the CEO, Athlete, Lawyer, Doctor. In many cases it takes more, since you already have the day job, and for your night job your calling happens to be to a calling that we almost never feel equal to, in which we regularly disappoint ourselves, and from which the check is normally late–often by a decade or two.  Sticking with something for which you may never get paid–and doing it with full-blown passion for years on end–takes real discipline. 

Define “success” how you want, but to me it means succeeding aesthetically first, and financially later–which for most artists simply means turning some form of profit.  However you do define it, this kind of discipline is no screwing around. You don’t get there by going to all the parties, hanging out in all the bars, and talking about all the great work you want to do. If you believe in yourself, if your goals are realistic, and if you’re driven, then you clamp your mouth shut and work your butt off. Why? Because you’re giving something to the world that is bigger than you, and more important than you. In a sense you are serving others, and that requires great discipline. The end result will speak for you. Then you can go to all the parties and bars, at least until you start the next piece.

The misconception is that artists indulge in substance abuse, are hopelessly idealistic, and devoid of discipline. This is hogwash. Some of the most disciplined people I’ve known have been sculptors, painters, and glass-blowers. Not only did they work very hard, but man they had guts, laying everything on the line in a risky profession: their finances, their dreams, their futures. Some realized the dream, most did not, but every one of them lived with courage and dignity and often a self-effacing humor. It’s that last quality that will often save your sanity when all else is failing. Oddly, it’s also a quality that can allow you to laugh off your failures, and persevere through to success.

Sure this is a tough life, full of sacrifices and hardship (although not like those of a Vietnamese rice farmer). But I wouldn’t trade it for a million bucks–though I might for two.

I wouldn’t have bothered with setting up a Gallery Website in 1997, when the Web was less a part of our culture. But by 1999 I was more or less obligated to bother with it, and now I have no choice: everybody has a bloody website, so I have to have a website too. What a pain in the arse; I’d far rather be backpacking in New Mexico than helping to upload yet another damned site, as I did recently. But backpacking will have to wait, at least until next month.

What does this have to do with you as an artist? Read on and you’ll see.

Once I learned how to work with our site, I found it beneficial, although I’ve yet to see any great boon develop from it. Art buying, by my experience, is a very firsthand sort of business, where the client normally must see the work before making a decision. But the Web can serve as a useful tool in introducing prospective clients to an artist or gallery; the client can then view more of the artists’ works through mailed visuals, or by appointment. The tough part is getting those clients to find you within the informational black hole that the Web has become.

Normally it is easier for a gallery to be found on the Web than individual artists. Why? Because any well run gallery will make certain that their web address is listed on all business cards, stationery, postcards and ads. They’ll also place their website with a wide variety of search engines. With the amount of marketing that most galleries do, this spreads the information rapidly. Artists by their nature are less likely to promote their website so extensively, but I still feel you should have one, now that they’ve become as common as business cards. I mean all modern technologies throughout history have sooner or later been adopted by artists, whether the Gutenburg Press, box cameras, or email. Websites are no different.

If you’re already with one or more galleries, make certain that they include your work on their site. If possible, try to get them to devote an entire page to your work. You want to set up your own site? I couldn’t advocate that enough. Just be aware that setting up a stunning site can cost several thousand dollars if done through lavish means, or several hundred dollars if done through simpler means: in other words, by using a website service or a computer-savvy grad student.

However you establish it, you’ll have to file the site with numerous search engines. Investigate the ones that are most relevant to what you do. Also list your website address on all business cards, postcards, emails, etc. Without these steps, it will wind up bringing you little impact beyond the fees you’ll pay to maintain it. If it comes to this, you may as well scrap the thing. But if you promote it with an eye toward advancing your Web presence, you’ll find that it will have an impact on your career in indirect ways–and sometimes direct ways, such as an unexpected call from a new client. If you don’t have a site, your chances of advancing are considerably diminished. Personally, I’d rather see you advance; you’ve already paid enough dues.