The Art Of Professionalism

by Robert Maniscalco

Few experiences give me more satisfaction than being part of the excitement and awe of another human being responding to an invitation to enter the world of an artist through his/her work. It's a miraculous communion; one that needs to be celebrated and nurtured. For this reason, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than be a professional artist, art dealer and arts advocate. It's very easy to quip that art is just another business. But really, it is so much more.

As a professional artist/dealer, I derive my income from the sale of art. By this simple definition of "professional," it would be very tempting for artists and dealers to forsake the goal of making great art in favor of producing only what is marketable -- many do. It is, after all, the definition of marketing to tailor production to what will most likely sell (selling is trying to convince someone to buy something they didn't know they wanted). True success, however, is when an artist's market and his/her product are in harmony. It is the age-old search for one's dharma -- our true gift to the world. The art profession, then, is more than a livelihood, it is an expression of our connection with humankind. I believe art, made and marketed with integrity, is one of the greatest gifts a creative person can share with the world. As a community, we need to take a stand for developing a standard for excellence in the creating and selling of art.

I place a high premium on originality - I want to see the hand of the artist. Rubber stamps just don't do it for me; for me, mass production is the antithesis of art. I value a deep understanding and intimacy of the craft, a full resolution of ideas and a mastery of materials. I admire those who courageously respond to their world through their art -- free of ego and pretension. I want to believe in the work; I want it to teach me something about being human and I shouldn't have to need a PhD in art history to understand it -- even though it may help.

In the world of contemporary art (living artists), prices are usually determined by the quality of the work, the stature of the artist (gallery/museum shows, notoriety, awards, collections, provenance of works, etc) and the fair market value of the artist's work (what it has sold for in the past). Artists are a good long-term investment if their work is of consistently high quality and if the artist has proven he/she is on a solid career track. There needs to be a documented relationship between value and price.

For some reason, I have found that many emerging collectors need to be empowered to trust (and to deepen) their own tastes when it comes to choosing art. Sadly, I once attended an art auction (on a cruise ship) where, in frustration that sales were slow, the auctioneer presented a painting with its back to the audience -- we couldn't see the piece. Amazingly, more people felt comfortable bidding on what they couldn't see than on what they had seen earlier with their own eyes. This disturbing episode brought home for me the central in-authenticity eating away at our fine art market: misinformation and cynicism coming from those who are in a unique position to know and teach the public about fine art -- our local galleries and art dealers. Buying art requires a great trust which must be earned, not squandered for a fast buck.

So, in the spirit of Time Magazine's selection of three "whistle blowers" as Persons of the Year (see http://www.time.com/time/personoftheyear/2002/poyqa.html), allow me to add my two cents. There are a number of marketing practices in the art-world, which simply do not stand up to the light of day. One in-authenticity that compromises the integrity of the legitimate retail art market is the big business of presenting mass-produced "starving-artist" paintings as originals. I'm talking about assembly-line art, usually imported in bulk from third world countries, placed in large, elaborate, foam blown frames. These are usually "oldish" looking paintings with subjects like little girls on swings, Roman ruins or conventional florals. They are intended to fill walls, no more, no less. Sometimes, however, they are presented as having been painted by "undiscovered artists from Europe" and acquired as a result of "extensive travels abroad." These dealers and interior designers also sell "knock offs" (copies of great masters) signed with fictitious names and no acknowledgment to their original creators. Paintings like these are available at a very low cost through numerous international distributors and marked up as much as 10 to 15 times their original cost. While some of these galleries are candid about the origins of these products, many are not. Let's be frank, there will always be a place for "starving artists" paintings and "knock offs" but there will never be a case in favor of pretense or subterfuge regarding the provenance (information about who painted it, where it has shown, etc.) of a work of art.

Another common practice of certain galleries is to inflate the prices of limited edition prints, selling them as "savvy" financial investments. On that afore mentioned cruise ship, the auctioneer (a representative of a large gallery in the northwest suburbs of Detroit) compared buying a Salvador Dali limited edition print to investing in Microsoft during it's infancy. Please! Just because a gallery prints a "letter of authenticity" doesn't necessarily mean the image is authentic. And despite all the hype, a Thomas Kinkade print is unlikely ever to appreciate in value (See "Thomas Kinkade - Art Dealers See Red Over Financial Losses," Published 12/02/2002 in Crain's Detroit Business). Clearly, we need to set higher standards regulating the print market, especially with all the new technologies on the market. Legitimate, quality printmaking is an expressive media that must be protected.

Perhaps the worst of these dubious marketing practices is the existence of art "sweatshops," right in our own backyard. Certain art dealers are taking advantage of illegal immigrants, paying them below minimum wage, to copy other artists' work, signing fictitious names and selling them to local corporations for ten times what they're paying these artists. This is a big business and it is happening right here in our community.

Less serious, yet perhaps one of the biggest stumbling blocks to Detroit's bourgeoning fine art market, is what one art dealer called our "wild, wild west" mentality. Metro Detroit artists have little solidarity with one another and almost none with their commercial galleries. Sadly, aside from the amazing depth and availability of exceptional talents, what distinguishes our city from healthier art markets is that Detroit artists feel they have the obligation/right to show their work wherever and whenever they can/want. While it's true, it is a free country; it is also true this practice just doesn't work. At one time, artists would show at my gallery, only to turn up two months later at a restaurant down the street or another gallery across town, varying prices, according to how much commission the venue "takes." In any functioning, thriving art market, this practice would be considered grounds to blacklist an artist. Here, it's the way we've always done it.

Detroit artists justify this practice by arguing they need the exposure when in fact it only devalues their work, their reputations, not to mention the venues in which they show. It's really very simple: value is directly related to supply. No matter how fine the work, flooding the market creates confusion and lowers values. This "revolving door" policy is the single reason Detroit supports only a tiny handful of professional artists and galleries. This is not to say restaurants, clubs, associations and alternative spaces shouldn't play a role in exposing and developing new talent. Detroit's unique artistic contribution, however, is being squandered when our best artists flit around from flower to flower. Still, there is a long tradition, even pride, in this ineffective, free-wheeling, "guerrilla" marketing method. Detroit artists deserve better. One solution: if an artist is that prolific, they might establish relationships with galleries and exhibition venues in other cities. That's how national reputations are established and local values raised.

Artists, galleries, art centers, councils, guilds/clubs, schools and alternative venues must come together to determine how they each can contribute to a common good. Until then, serious art collectors will continue to go elsewhere to buy their art -- or worse, languish in apathy. Meanwhile, many legitimate, gifted artists (and venues) must continue fighting for survival in this gray market. Detroit is enjoying an upsurge of interest in the arts. The potential market is poised and ready. Are we? Let's not let these ridiculous practices stand in the way of Detroit becoming the international art center it deserves to be. I do not accept the cynical notion of the "starving artist" or that Detroiters are "blue-collar" and therefore not interested in culture. That's just too absurd for words. But here's one: Degas.

It's up to our schools, guilds, commercial galleries, non-profit spaces, agencies, councils and alternative venues to provide leadership and a commitment to the creative members of our community. We simply can no longer afford to stand by and allow the art market to be handled like a college food fight. If we artists want to be taken seriously by the larger community, of which we are an integral part, we need to develop professional standards. I believe people are willing to pay for quality and integrity.

What's the moral of the story? Could we as a community benefit by valuing creativity and professionalism a little more? Sure. Do we need to be diligent as we work together for a healthy arts community? Definitely. Since I opened my gallery six years ago I have learned things about the art business I sometimes wish I didn't know. What keeps me going are the little epiphanies along the way, when a person invests in themselves by purchasing their first original artwork or discovers a new way of looking at the world.

We can't be afraid to take a close, hard look at ourselves. Sugar coating the truth and burying our heads in the sand won't cut it anymore. We all must take responsibility if we really want a healthy art scene. My hope is that conversations such as these will encourage more dialogue. Clearly there is a need and a commitment within our community to come together for the common good and I am confident the results will be powerful. We need a fully functioning Detroit Art Dealers Association to deal with the issue of exclusivity, among many others. We need forums to educate artists and arts venues about professional marketing and the roles each of us can play in creating an even playing field. We need to ask questions. For instance, how should the mission of a non-profit exhibition space differ from that of a commercial gallery? We need to generate communication and abundance instead of cynicism.

Who knows, it may lead to my walking into someone's home, where an inspiring work of art graces the wall - a work of art to which the home owner is passionately attached. We will stay up late talking and learning more about life and one another than we ever dreamed possible. That kind of success is very satisfying. To me, that's what this business is all about.