Wall Number One, Oil on Panel, Derrick Breidenthal

One of my clients saw a small version of this painting, or in other words a study, in the gallery two months ago. She loved the piece, but it was sold. I mentioned that Derrick could paint a work that was in the same vein, but in a larger size, if she liked. He did, we installed it yesterday, and she’s ecstatic. So’s he. But please bear in mind, the enlargement is a painting unto itself; when placed side-by-side the two are not identical. 

I’ve made this point many times, but I will again. Anything you paint in a small size can serve as a study for a larger size.  In fact it’s ethical to create each painting in three distinctly different sizes (Rembrandt often did, as did many of the Impressionists, as have 100s of others throughout history). In this way, when you finish a work that you know is a masterpiece, you can realize more from your years of sacrifice that one mere sale.

Some artists will resist this approach, and that’s fine; I never ask anyone to do it who isn’t inspired by same.  But for those who see it as both a challenge and an opportunity, great.  As long as the fundamentals of creating original art aren’t betrayed, this  makes things easier for everyone.  Makes it a easier to pay for things like dental bills, health insurance, and a functioning car as well. 

  

Flatiron Building, Edward Steichen, 1904 

Hello Paul:

Most of the books, articles, and blogs I read primarily deal with advice for painters, sculptors, potters and glass blowers.  I noticed in one of your blogs that you work with photographers.  I was wondering if you would share your thoughts/advice on trends you are seeing in the photography that is selling as art.  Color, B&W, size, etc.
 
Thank you so much,

Jeff    

Jeffrey Stoner Photography

__________________________________________ 

Jeff:

Going back as far as the great photographers Alfred Stieglitz, Edward Steichen and Ansel Adams, one thing held true: photography was bloody hard to sell.  How did these cats make a living?  For decades they didn’t.  But ultimately, as they aged, their contribution and revolutionary techniques were hailed, then their work was published in books.  And it was from the sale of those books, in quantity, that they eventually became legendary; hence the prices of their prints rose apace.  In the meantime, they sometimes did portrait work or fashion shoots on the side.

Most of my photographers find a way to get their work published in books, or publish a book themselves.  This may mean an investment from $5000 to $15,000, but if marketed well–assuming it’s a strong book–the results can be fantastic.

Where is art photography going?  Wherever you want.  Just as with art in general, there are few rules anymore.  You can be as conceptual, abstracted, or conservative as you wish; there’s a market for it all, though the biggest market remains fairly conservative (which your work at this time leans toward).  Digital is becoming more accepted now, some people still love film, and there’s a broad audience for both color and B&W.  However it’s my experience that the photography market is limited compared to that of paintings.  For some reason, collectors are less willing to pay $700 for a framed print, than $2000 for an oil the same size.

Your challenge?  To get in enough qualified shows, enough widely dispersed galleries, with enough qualified press to substantiate your career and pricing.  Then make sure you have at least two gallery shows a year.  And every now and then, challenge yourself to try a new style, even if you don’t go with it.  So yeah it’s a lot of work, but as you know, the arts always have been.

Bonne chance.

 

(Note: This article recently ran in Art Calendar, as did the photo of me advising Allan Chow on framing.  Why is he smiling so?  Scroll to bottom and you’ll see.) 

Framing: Who’s responsibility is it?             

Unfortunately in the art biz, there is no one industry standard on issues such as this, and several others.  Hence, I can only speak from the experience of my gallery, and what has worked for us.  But since many artists look to me for fair advice, I suspect that what I have to say hits as close to a reasonable standard as anything.

In my joint, the artists are responsible for their own framing.  We don’t have a framing department, as I’d rather spend my time consulting on major projects that selecting molding.  However I do enjoy selecting a quality frame with my artists when they desire same.  We don’t do this through frame shops, which really are for the public.  We do this through frame suppliers, such as Glaser Frames in Denver, which cost much less than a frame shop.  The artists often order the frames in bulk delivered to my gallery, and do their own framing here or at home.  How are they compensated for this?  I mark up the works sufficiently to ensure that they’re covered.  Otherwise, I view framing as an overhead expense for artists just as rent, payroll, and marketing are expenses for a gallery.

Do I help artists select their frames?  Only if I feel they need the assistance.  Some artists have a fantastic eye for framing, and need no guidance.  Others are bored to tears with the process, and simply don’t see what will complement their work.  Those artists I gladly help.  But I never dictate how an artist should frame.  Instead, we collaborate.  Almost all artists have some sense of how they want their work to be framed; I try to listen to each.

Expenses: Who bears what?                                       

In my gallery, the artists pay for their work and frames.  Beyond that, it’s mostly our baby.  At openings we pay for the postcards, postage, wine, etc.  However if we run a magazine ad, the artists always split that with us, since it’s an untypical expense. 

Some galleries require that artists split the costs of an opening.  My own opinion?  You’ve already paid for the frames, have likely paid considerable dues, and sacrificed a great deal just to get to where you are.  I don’t think you should also help pay for the freaking opening.

Allan Chow:  He’s smiling first because he always does, but  broader here because of the limmerick I was telling:

There once was a lady from Madras,                              

Who had, oh, such a marvelous ass.                              

Not round and pink,                                                      

As you might think,                                                      

But was gray, with long ears, and ate grass.