Oh, Maureen: Update

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View the initial Oh, Maureen
View Courage Campaign video
See second addendum at bottom
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Maureen,

Even though you responded to my personal e-mail with a defense of your specious ideas, I wasn't going to pursue a correspondence with you in a public forum. But those ideas are so antithetical to the good-thinking people in our (art) world, that I have to note some of them here. You have been drinking deeply from the Falwell fountain:
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" . . . it does not take a religious sensibility or hostility toward homosexuals to recognize a basic truth: When one component of the definition of marriage---one man, one woman---is declared arbitrary, the whole thing collapses. A man and his dog? Two women and one man? One man and six women? It is a route to social chaos.
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"Marriage is an institution that predates politics and any and all doctrinal considerations. Norms do exist.
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"What is being demanded is not a right but a privilege----the privilege of redefining a bedrock societal institution to justify one's own preferences. I pay homosexual persons the compliment of not treating them as a separate species who inhabit a parallel universe."

Oh, Maureen. Now you're just talking like a wingnut. Dogs? (I thought you were smarter than that.) Six women? (Actually that's heterosexual male privilege in the right-wing of Mormon society--you know, the religious group that supported Prop 8.) You talk about the "bedrock of marriage." Would that be the bedrock that had royal and political families, until fairly recently, consolidating their political power by marrying their eligible children? Would it be arranged marriages, which still exist? Would it be elderly men taking child brides in sanctioned ceremonies in various cultures around the world? Bedrock, all right. As in prehistoric. Marrying for love, don't you know, is a modern concept. (And even that has its wingnuts. In the news today: In India, a wealthy bride's family is arrested for killing eight members of the poor groom's family.)

As for "not a right but a privilege." No, you have it wrong. This is a civil rights issue. It is a right.

As for your making money from your paintings of drag queens, you say you haven't. I was pretty sure you hadn't sold many of them. But I'm happy to set the record, er, straight:


"The comedy in all of this is the fallacious assumption--which you blindly encourage--that I have made $$ on the gay community. Good God! Pure fantasy! That suite of paintings was a labor of love. Very few sold."

Addendum: My sister-in-law, Carol, a proud supporter of her gay friends and relatives, e-mailed me the Courage Campaign info--an emotional (and political) response to Ken Starr's egregious attempt to forcibly divorce 18,000 same-sex couples who were married in California last year. You need to see these folks, Maureen. If you are not moved, your heart is as cold as the stone in Ken Starr's chest.

How we can respond: The Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in this case on March 5, 2009, with a decision expected within the next 90 days. Let the Court know that you do not support hate and division. You can sign the petition here.

Update 2.14.09: Just in time for Valentine's Day, Eageageag has a post, Notes on Maureen Mullarkey in which he also mentions his two moms. A must read.
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Marketing Mondays: Lost in Space

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Click here for my open letter to Maureen Mullarkey

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Back in the early days of Chelsea I was making the rounds with an out-of-town friend. “Wow!" I’d exclaim to her each time we walked into a newly opened gallery, with its high ceilings, particular wall treatments, good light and, often, spectacular views of the Hudson. “What a space!”

Finally, exasperated, she turned to me and demanded, “What about the art?”

Living in a big South Carolina home, she was unaware of the almost mystical power that large spaces have on New York’s tiny-apartment dwellers. Of course she was right. I was spending far too much of my visual energy looking at the walls instead of what was on them.

Are you interested in the gallery's programs or its real estate?

Once I got over the novelty of the Chelsea spaces, I got back to the business of looking at the work on exhibition. If you don’t visit the galleries too often, whether in New York City or elsewhere, it’s easy to get seduced by the space—especially if you’re “shopping” for a gallery. Who wouldn’t want to show in a temple of art?

Focus on The Program
I have a friend who drops off packets to galleries with great spaces. He's so fixated on being shown in in one of them that he pays no attention to their programs. He's still looking.

Look Up
And listen to my friend C, who is a partner in a Chelsea gallery with a beautiful ground-floor space:

“If you don’t have a track record, look upstairs.”

Sure everyone wants to show in those ground floor galleries with the sweeping interior views that beckon from the street, but, she says, “We’re paying an enormous rent. We can’t afford to show an emerging or untried artist. Look upstairs where the rents are lower, where the dealers are able to take more risks.”

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While you’re up there
. Consider size: Unless you’re Richard Tuttle or Tomma Abts, if you have small work, a small gallery space will probably be more receptive to considering it

. The opposite is true if you work large

. Consider context: Whatever the size of the gallery, its program—the gallery’s esthetic as expressed by its exhibitions—needs to be of a piece with the kind of work you do

. Appreciate the opportunity, whatever the floor: there are some pretty great galleries upstairs, too

.Eventually (and against the logic of the business world) you just might work your way down

What About the Art?
And here’s a faux pas you don’t want to make, says C: “Don’t compliment me on my ‘beautiful space.’ Do you know how many times I hear that? I know it’s beautiful. I want to know what you think of the show.”

I'd add that brief, thoughtful comments by artists do make a difference in the artist-dealer dialog. Dealers don’t get out too much; they’re in their own galleries when the others galleries are open. A well-informed gallerygoer who connects the dots between and among previous shows in that gallery or among other current shows is a bright spot in the gallerist’s day—assuming they’re up for short chat. Don’t expect gallery representation to come out of it. In fact, don’t expect anything to come out of it except the pleasure of a brief conversation about the art. But your network grows incrementally over time.

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Oh, Maureen

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Dear Maureen,

When I got the first e-mail--from a friend who was in a show we had both been involved in--I couldn't believe what I was reading: that you, an artist who has drawn inspiration from the gay community with your paintings of drag queens, you who have been shown in galleries owned by gay dealers, you who have reviewed exhibitions by gay and lesbian artists (myself included) could have donated $1000 in support of California's Prop 8, the vote that would take away the hard-won right of gays to marry in the state of California.

But the story was all too true. In that friend's e-mail there was a link to a story in the Daily News, which was based on public information. When a reporter called you on the facts, you responded with a cavalier "So?"
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Then in LoHud.com , a journal of the lower Hudson Valley, you defended your actions saying, ". . . regard for individual gay persons does not require assent to a politicized assault on bedrock social reality and the common good." You know, that sounds suspiciously like that pre-Civil Rights Era excuse, I like my black maid but I don't think black people should vote, or I have Jewish friends but, really, they shouldn't expect to have the same rights as Christians. It would be an assault on the common good.

Oh, Maureen. Wouldn't you be horrified if someone you know said those things--and then they sent $1000 to the KKK? Or a neo-nazi group? .

You certainly have the right to feel as you do. You even have the right to act as you did. But having done so publicly, you have opened yourself to public opprobrium. The grave ungood you have done is not only to us, lesbians and gays who expect no less than full civil rights in our own country, but ironically to your own art career. Unless you don't mind showing at Reverend Rick's or perhaps at Brigham Young University. (Edward Winkleman has called it Biting the Hand That Feeds You.) Other comments are here and here .)

I'm not sure how you redress this situation. Perhaps you don't wish to redress it at all. But there are some good lesbian and gay organizations that would benefit from $1000 donations. Here are a few:

. Astraea Foundation: This organization funds political and cultural projects for lesbians. Two cultural projects are the Astraea Visual Arts Fund , which recognizes the work of contemporary lesbian visual artists within the U.S.; and the Lesbian Writers Fund, Lesbian Writers Fund, which supports lesbian poets and fiction writers within the U.S.

. The Leslie Lohman Gay Art Foundation, based in New York City, which has been supporting gay male art for over five decades

. The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Community Center in New York City, an organization that supports the political, legal, arts, health and family needs of New York City's LGBT community

. NYC Pride, the organization that supports the gay pride parades from which you have found countless subjects to paint

I'm writing this letter to you here on my blog because I know you'll see it. Besides, in one of those links I noted above, I saw that someone had given out your e-address. I'm guessing you've got quite a lot of e-mail to deal with right now.

Your lesbian friend,

Joanne

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Marketing Mondays: Juried Shows

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Once again for Marketing Mondays, I’m going to start with an anecdote. In 1995, I learned about the annual Small Works Show at New York University (facade shown right). Even then it was known as a good show in a good venue, with a prestigious juror and a low entry fee ($15 then; a still-low $20 now).

I entered three 10-by-10-inch paintings, hand delivering them as was requested at the time. The arrangement was that on the day of jurying you were to go back to the gallery to see if your name was posted. If so, yay. If no, you went in to retrieve your work.

The day of the jurying, I received a call at work from the director: “Don’t come down. The juror has selected all three of your paintings for the show.” Yay.

Later that afternoon, I received another call: “Congratulations. The juror has selected your three paintings for a Juror’s Award.” Yaaaay.

When I got to my studio after work, there was a message on my machine: “Hi, this is Ivan Karp. I saw your work at the Small Works show, and I’d like to come for a studio visit.” Yaaaaaaaaaaay!!
That one juried show led to a solo show at Ivan’s OK Harris Gallery the following year; a referral to a gallery in the Philippines that represented me for several years and gave me a solo show; a second, more recent, solo at OK Harris; and inclusion in a large curated group show there last summer. In short, it led to a wonderful long-term cordial relationship with the gallery, its principals and staff. I hit the trifecta and kept on winning.

When I entered the Small Works show the following year, 1996, I was rejected. But because my career was moving along well by then, I knew it was time to stop entering juried shows. Still, I remain a fan of them--if you choose wisely--and I always recommend them to emerging artists as a way to build their resumes. As my experience shows, you never know who's going to see your work or what might come as a result.

Not Everyone Loves Juried Shows
My friend, Jackie Battenfield, a painter and author of the forthcoming The Artist's Guide: How to Make a Living Doing What you Love, from which the following quotes are taken, is not a fan. Without rejecting them completely, she makes it clear that they hold limited appeal for her. Her comments here and farther down the post:
“Many nonprofit organizations sponsor juried exhibitions as part of their program. In many cases, these shows are the means by which an organization collects easy money from the entry fees of hundreds of artists eager to get their work seen by a 'prestigious' juror.
"They are seldom great career-building opportunities, even if your art is selected for exhibition and given an award.
"A better way to introduce your work to an important curator or critic," she counsels," is to send your information directly.”

How Do Dealers Feel About Juried Shows on a Resume?
There's no consensus. Let me share what dealers have said to me in conversation:
. “It depends on the juror and the show.”
. “I would expect emerging artists to have entered and been accepted into juried shows. It’s one of the ways they can build up their resumes, and frankly, those acceptances tell me that someone other than me is responding favorably.”
. “I’d have to question why a midcareer artist keeps entering juried shows. Where’s the advancement?”
. “I like to jury a show occasionally. I get to see work by new artists without having to go through the submissions at the gallery." [This dealer has shown work by artists s/he has found while jurying, though I’m not sure that long-rerm representation has resulted.]

If You Do Apply
. “Be extremely selective,” says Jackie. Her other suggestions:
. “Select shows with a specific theme.
. “Consider shows open only to regional artists; these can be a good way to expand your connections to your community.
. “Most of all, apply only to those juried exhibitions sponsored by an organization you value and trust.”
. I’d add a couple more: Skip the shows in Podunk, USA. No offense to the hinterlands, but you want your work to be seen. Stick with the major cities, or major institutions in smaller cities (unless, as Jackie suggests, you're working on your regional visibility)
. Are there prizes? Is there a catalog? These perks might come from a well-funded nonprofit institution (if there are any well-funded nonprofits right now. . .)
. Is there an online component--installation images or individual works posted? That gives you wider visibility and the option of some cyber promotion. You might find this in an academic gallery
. Is there the possibility of a solo show? This prize is more likely to come from a co-op gallery. If it’s a good gallery and you don’t mind doing all the work, it could be a major perk
. Don’t submit work in a range of styles and mediums. Pick one. No juror wants to see a UN of art from one person
. Relatedly, don’t fall for the offer of paying an additional fee per extra image submitted over the initial two or three. If you can’t get in on your first group, extra images are not likely to do it for you.

The Last Word Goes to Jackie:
“Being accepted into a juried show can help build confidence in your work when you are starting out. But be careful: Don't depend solely on these venues, and make sure you are exploring all your other exhibition options as well.”

Now, It's Your Turn
Have you entered a juried show that opened doors for you? Or do you feel that you've just wasted your money? Or are you somewhere in the middle, registering a few good outcomes and a few dead ends? Do tell.
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Related: A couple of summers ago I juried a show and wrote about it, Thinking in Wax. Although the exhibition was medium specific, my comments about it were not. Take a look if you're interested.

Meow Mix

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Olympia just e-mailed the postcard for blogpix. It's still a little early to be sending it, but take a look anyway:

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Specifics and links are on the sidebar, right, and I'll have a report from the front lines in early March . But here's the short of it:

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Platform Project Space, New York City

March 5-28

Opening Thursday, March 5, 6:00-8:00 pm

Blogger panel: Saturday, March 7, starting at 5:00 pm

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Hard Times for the Art World

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1.29.09: Update at the end of the post

The last thing I want to do is contribute to the doom and gloom, but sometimes reporting a story or passing along information is essential so that we understand the depth of the issue. Not too long ago I talked about The Downturn in Chelsea. More recently in Where's The Bailout for The Arts?, I talked about what happens when publishing wanes, galleries close and institutions retrench. It's happening. Just a few examples:

. Artnet has reported that the Seattle Post Intelligencer is closing, and that its longtime art critic, Regina Hackett, will be out of a job--a passing that bodes ill not only for Hacket but for coverage of the arts in Seattle. Here's an excerpt from Artnet:

Another month, another art critic shown the door by a major paper. This time it’s Regina Hackett, longtime correspondent for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. A representative of Hearst Newspapers swung by the paper’s office Friday, Jan. 9, 2009, to tell the staff that, "Journalism is a fabulous profession, but it is a business," and that the paper would be shut down in 60 days, either to close forever or reopen as a greatly reduced online-only service (the heartbreaking footage of the announcement is available here) . . .Hackett told fellow Seattle critic Jen Graves, "I mean, there are no jobs for us."


. How's My Dealing's Deathwatch section posts the names of galleries that rumor has closing. (I recommend this blog with mixed feelings, but it does seem to have tapped into the art information network. Some of those rumors have been confimed, because I've gotten a number of the gallery press relaases myself.)


. And yesterday: The Rose Art Museum at Brandeis University announced that it is closing its doors and selling its collection. (You can read reports and links in Geoff Edgers' Exhibitionist, Tyler's Modern Art Notes, and Carolina's C-Monster blog.) Here's the president's e-mail passed along by a friend:

From: President Jehuda Reinharz
Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2009
To: Brandeis University Community
Subject: Important Message Regarding the Rose Art Museum

The global financial crisis and deepening national economic recessionrequire Brandeis to formulate and execute decisive plans that will position the university to emerge stronger for the benefit of our students. To this end, our response to the crisis is to focus and sustain our core academic mission. I am writing to tell you that the Board of Trustees met today and voted to close the Rose Art Museum.The decision was difficult and was reached after a painstakingassessment of the university’s need to mobilize for the future andinitiate a strategy to replenish our financial assets.

The Rose has been a marvelous addition to the Fine Arts program, and we are grateful to everyone who expressed their love for art andadmiration for Brandeis’s academic mission by helping to create, build, and support the museum. Choosing between and among important and valued university assets is terrible, but our priority in theface of hard choices will always be the university’s core teachingand research mission. Today’s decision will set in motion a long-term plan to sell the art collection and convert the professional art facility to a teaching, studio, and gallery space for undergraduate and graduate students and faculty.

Update: Read Hrag Vartanian's Art Market Recession Report in the NYFA Current

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Marketing Mondays: Rejection. Get Over It

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Rejection might seem like a downer of a way to start the Marketing Monday series, but the hope-dashing, nerve-breaking, thanks-but-no-thanks wall that stands between an artist and success is a looming constant. There’s no easy way to deal with it except to experience it, get over it and move on. Rejection is never pleasant, but until you get over it, you can never move on. Fortunately, you do develop a callus over the soft spot.


Here's my rejection story:
At the very beginning of my career--pretty much before I even had a career, actually--I had an appointment with a young dealer on 57th Street. When I arrived, an assistant instructed me to set up my work on the floor around the perimeter of the small carpeted viewing room. The dealer entered, took a cursory look at the work and, and without making eye contact said, “Thank you,” and walked out. I put my work back into my portfolio and left, stung by the curtness and impersonality of that 20-second encounter. (And did I mention that I'd made the trip down from upstate, rising at 4:45 am to catch the early train?)

The rejection became an enormous psychic scab as I picked at it endlessly. Surely she had seen something of interest in the work when she viewed the slides, hadn't she? Why, then, was she so uninterested in the work in person? Did I do something wrong? Was it me? I should have declined to put the work on the floor! I should have spoken up as she was leaving! I should have followed up with a note. The work isn't good; no wonder she didn't like it. I'll never have a career. Pick, pick, pick.

Over time, as small encouragements tempered that initial big rejection, and then small successes became more frequent, and then--hurrah!--there were bigger successes, I was able to let that rejection go. Actually, that rejection spurred me to get shown, get representation, get my career moving. That's why I could finally let it go. Eventually I again started to visit her gallery, which has followed the standard migration pattern of galleries in New York. In fact I admire the way she has stuck with her gallery all these years (not unlike my own dogged adhesiveness).

Out of the blue--well, because I put her on my e-mail list a few years ago--this dealer recently sent me a kind e-note praising the way I promote myself and my work via the Internet. "Believe me, I've seen it all," she said. She has no idea that I was a young artist she dismissed many years ago or the impression her brusque dismissal made on me. I'm not going to tell her, either. It's history. (But, you know, that note still felt good.)

Here's what I learned from that initial rejection:
. I allowed waaaay to much to ride on that one presentation. Talk about naive. I'd probably pinned all my career (such as it wasn't) hopes on that one visit
. I ceded her too much power. One person on one day saw a tiny slice of my oeuvre and found it not to her taste
. Consider who's rejecting you. My psychic slasher was a young dealer, probably as inexperienced in rejecting artists as I was receiving rejection. I'll bet she has gotten better at it over the years
. She was under no obligation to offer me a crit of my work. The fact that she responded so coolly was message enough that it was not to her taste. If she'd taken the time to speak with every artist at every presentation, she would never have had the time to build up her career
. I should not have capitulated to the request to put the work on the floor. Maybe it was her standard operating procedure, but if the work is meant for the wall, that's where it should be seen
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Degrees of Rejection
"There are three kinds of rejection," says a curator at an art college in Maine. She calls them "levels." I'm paraphrasing here, but here's the gist of how she responds to presentation packages:
. Level One: a definite no. I respond with a short note that says, 'We feel your work is not right for the gallery. Thank you for thinking of us, and best of luck with your career.'
. Level Two: Although the work does not fit into the scheme of any exhibitions I have planned, I like what I see. I send the artist a note saying exactly that, asking them to stay in touch. If they do, a relationship begins. Who knows how it will culminate?
. Level Three: If I like what I see and think it might fit into the program, I ask to see more work. If the artist is nearby, I might call to schedule a studio visit. If distance is a factor, I would ask the artist to bring in some work so that I can see it in person and get to know the artist.

Many Reasons for a Rejection
Another dealer offers this insight (again, I'm paraphrasing): We can't have a conversation with each individual artist who sends us material, but here are some of the reasons we might reject an artist's work:
. We might love it but know that we don't have a collector base to support it. Much as we love to show art, we have to sell it to stay in business
. We might already represent an artist who fills that niche for us. We do want artists who fit our program, but if their work overlaps with what a represented artist does, we won't consider the applicant
. One of us might love it and one of us might not. [This is a common issue for business partners, I have learned]
. The price might be too high or too low for the gallery

No Means No--For Now
One dealer lives by the motto, "No means no--for now." Things change, she says:
. A new director comes in with new energy and ideas, stretching the parameters of the program
. An artist leaves the gallery and an appropriate 'slot' opens up on the roster
. An artist keeps us in his or her mailing list, and looking at a postcard image of the new work we see a breakthrough or a find that the new direction is right for us

Ball in your Court
"One thing I can tell you for sure," says the no-means-no-for-now dealer, "is that if we ask you to stay in touch with us, we mean it."
And how many artist have done that? I ask.
"A tiny percentage."

What's your rejection story?
And equally important: What have you learned from it? .What have you

Starting Monday, a New Series: Marketing Mondays

Hitting the nail on the head once again: eageageag

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What a difference a crash makes. Just when careers were poised to move to the next level, opportunities evaporated and we find ourselves pushing the boulder back up the hill. Maybe you were within reach of representation, or your recent solo show didn't too too well, or funding for a project just got cut. You're not alone. The art world landscape has changed drastically overnight. And within that landscape are not only artists but dealers, critics and curators, too. If an artist has seen gallery interest wane, it may be bcause the gallery's business is waning. And if critical response isn't forthcoming, it may well be because the critic's edtorial space has been cut back, or worse, cut altogether. Curators are supported by institutions that are typically supported by the largesse of personal and corporate donations; and when the money dwindles, so do the projects.

This is the impetus for Marketing Mondays. Each Monday, starting on the 26th, I’ll address a topic or post a question that relates to the career issues we deal with as artists--from an artist's point of view. My expertise: I’ve been "in the life" for 30 years, gradually getting to the point where I've become a self-supporting studio artist (knocking wood for 2009). I even teach a career course to art students about to make the leap into the art world.

Over the years I’ve learned that making a career is very different from making art. Every part-time and full-time job has taught me something: how to organize my time, how to write about my work, how to make a presentation, how to negotiate for what I want. Here's what I learned while working for the largest women's magazine in the country, for instance: the importance of marketing and promotion. If a brand that's on the tip of 10 million tongues feels it needs to get out there and promote, promote, promote, who am I to think that my puny-ass career shouldn't get a nudge?

With every dealer I’ve worked with, I’m reminded that clarity of intent, decent manners, good record keeping and mutual respect do wonders to keep a business relationship flourishing—sometimes even growing into friendship. With artists, I’ve learned many things, chief among them that community is not optional; it’s as essential as air.

Following that last thought: We’re all in this together, whether we make art, sell it, curate it or write about it. I hope everyone reading will contribute to the Marketing Monday colloquy. I’m open any and all topic suggestions. If the weekly format gets to be too much to handle, I’ll take it monthly. But I will keep it going.

Monday's topic: Rejection. Get Over It. (Because if you can't get over it, you can't move on in your career.)

In the meantime, I've culled some recent and not-so-recent posts from JMAB that deal with the issues of getting your work out into the world:

. The Benefit of Your Wisdom
. What are You Doing About Prices?
. Where’s the Bailout for the Arts
. What Jobs Have You Had?

. The Downturn in Chelsea

. No, I Will Not Donate To Your Auction

. An Offer I CAN Refuse
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The Benefit of Your Wisdom

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Slice of life: This and other unpleasant truths at eageageag

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I teach a course to last-semester painting majors on how to find (or create) a place for themselves in the art world. It’s the course I didn’t have when I was in art school. If you graduated from art school before 2000, it’s the course you didn’t have either. But as the art world has gotten larger and more complex, art schools and colleges have rightfully decided to address the issue of how their students will build and sustain a career in art. God knows, especially now.

Experience and some professional success make experts of us all, so now I teach what it took me 30 years to learn. The course is not about “success” per se because you can be famous for your art and still not be able to pay your bills--or vice versa. Rather it’s about how to navigate an uphill terrain that has plenty of roads but few maps, where superhighways cross paths with barely marked trails, where there are high tolls, many forks in the road and more than a few dead ends.

Recently there have been some good posts offering advice to emerging artists:
. Dawoud Bey's Advice to a Young Artist
. Franklin Einspruch's Unsolicited Advice

. Deanna Wood’s “Helpful Posts” (on sidebar) at Artist Emerging

. Jackie Battenfield's The Artist's Guide website (precursor to a book that will be out shortly)

. And, as always, Edward Winkleman’s inside views and valuable counsel

My post today is a question:

What advice would you offer an art student who’s about to make the leap?

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Cold? Come Stand Next To These

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Click here for What are You Doing About Prices?

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Seeing the image of Teresita Fernandez's Fire on C-Monster's blog reminded me that I'd photographed a toasty Morris Louis at Paul Kasmin last year, which reminded me that Julian Jackson has some wonderful new paintings whose theme is fire. Then the flames spread, so to speak, to include Kate Beck's fiery Naranga, Heather Hutchison's glowing Divided (warm), my own incandescent Ciel Rouge, Eva Lake's jumpy Hot Spot, a little fireplace of an image from Josef Albers and a cosmic blast-furnace from Natvar Bhavsar. All provide visual comfort on these days when the temperature is heading down toward zero. Then there are the flames of Fra Angelico's The Attempted Martyrdom of Saints Cosmas and Damian--but you don't want to get too close to those.

Morris Louis at Paul Kasmin Gallery, late 2007

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Julian Jackson, Watching Fire Study #2, 2008, oil on panel 16 x 14 inches

Teresita Fernandez, Fire, at SFMOMA (image from C-Monster blog)
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Josef Albers, Study for Homage to the Square

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Eva Lake, Hot Spot, 12 x 12 inches, part of a larger installation, Richter Scale

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Kate Beck, Naranga, 2006, oil on canvas, 84 x 60 inches

Heather Hutchison, Divided (warm), 2006, mm, 18 x 18 x 2.5 inches

Joanne Mattera, Ciel Rouge, 2006, encaustic on panels, 48 x 67 inches

Natvar Bhavsar, Andhare, 2005, pure pigment on canvas, 75 x 68 inches

Fra Angelico, The Attempted Martyrdom of Saints Cosmas and Damian

The Penis Monologs, Part 2

It's happened again. My inbox has grown to, er, huge proportions. Much bigger than I'm used to having. What to do? Another installment of The Penis Monologs, of course. (All phrases guaranteed verbatim.)

Part 1 here


Update Your Penis

Amend your problem of small dimension
Make it large and steady as a rock!
Express your masculinity better!
Boost your virility

Be admired for your true male merits:
A voluminous male package
A huge love tool
An immeasurable wand of pleasure

Let her call you a perfect lover!
Improbable things can really happen
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Super dimension for your little soldier

You won’t believe! It’s incredible!
Male feature worthy of Casanova
Your happiness is much closer now


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Potenzprobleme?

Satisfy her with your large
University Degree
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What Are You Doing About Prices?

I’ve been corresponding with an artist on the other coast, and s/he asked an interesting question:

“What's everybody doing about pricing these days?"

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This artist continued, "I can't figure out if I need to adjust my prices before sending the work [to the dealer] or wait until after the work gets there to have that talk. I'm feeling very insecure about that at the moment."

Welcome to the club. A dealer I work with asked me recently, “What are your other dealers doing about pricing?” This dealer had already discussed the topic with her/his colleagues and wanted to know how galleries in other parts of the country were handling the issue.

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Price is being discussed between artists, between dealers, and of course between artists and their dealers. Given the downturn, I think everyone’s willing to accommodate this way or that, up to a point.

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In Miami I marshalled my chutzpah and asked a dealer I don't know well, "Have you lowered your prices?" S/he said, "We'll negotiate a discount, but we're not posting lower prices. Because when the economy rebounds, we'd have to start all over at the lower price." But another, violating the prices-can-go-up-but-they-can't-go-down rule, said, "I'm at the point where I'm going to call [collectors] and say, 'Make me an offer.' I need to pay my rent."

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Usually I bump up my prices at the start of each year, and I accept that a 10 percent “courtesy” will be given to collectors who request it if they’re purchasing my small paintings in multiple, or if they’re acquiring a larger work. I didn’t raise prices for 2009. And I’ve given my dealers the leeway they need with regard to discounts to complete a sale. We’re not giving it away, mind you, but we want my collectors to continue to acquire work. It's good business all around. Galleries need to stay in business. Me, too.

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So let me ask the artists, dealers and collectors who are reading this post: What are you doing about pricing these days?

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(Go ahead, post anonymously. You notice that I've been as vague as possible in this post as well.)

Where's The Bailout for the Arts?

So the automakers and all those big banks are getting help from the government. My tax dollars, from income earned as an artist, are helping them out.

Where’s the bailout for the arts?

I’d been thinking about this ever since the banking industry began receiving some $700 billion in bailout money—and promptly started giving it away as multimillion-dollar bonuses to the guys who brought the industry to its knees in the first place. (And to think that the NEA was once upset over the "obscenity" of smeared chocolate on a naked body? Ha!)

So you can imagine my pleasure when I clicked on to Geoff Edgers’ Exhibitionist blog the other day and found this post: Secretary of the Arts? It seems the ever-inventive Quincy Jones has proposed that his friend, the soon-to-be President Obama, create just such a position. (You can sign the petition here.)

I love this idea! Because unlike a bailout for the arts, a cabinet position that acknowledges the creative economy is plausible, even possible. And I love that the importance of the creative community is being acknowledged.

The importance of the creative community
Acknowledging our work is the first step to actually supporting it. It’s not just autoworkers who are the backbone of this society. Perhaps because artists have usually worked for rock-bottom wages or for free—or because what we do has often gone unappreciated by the society at large—our contribution is overlooked. The uplifting effect of arts aside (as if that could ever be put “aside”) supporting the arts supports the economy. You see it in the Theater District, in the full restaurtants before and after a show. You see it during Fashion Week, or during Armory Time, when hordes of creative folks descend on Bryant Park or Pier 92 and the ancillary venues. Actually, in New York City you see it everywhere all the time.

I know I’m preaching to the choir, but let’s look at our situation. Galleries are closing down or tightening up. Broadway shows are closing, 15 in the next weeks alone. Museums are hurting. And the non-profits are persevering valiantly in the face of ever-dwindling financial support. It's not only in New York City that the arts sustain the economy; it's true in every major metropolis and large city in this country.

What happens when the arts are not supported? It's happening now. This is not a journalistically researched post. It's emotional, based on observation and anecdotal information. Still I don't think I'm overstating when I say:
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Museums, Galleries and Art Fairs Bring People into the City
Without them attendance is down. And without attendance, hours get cut back, employees get laid off, some venues shutter their doors.

Immediate damage: Fewer opportunities to see art, to show art. Artists and art-educated folks who work in those venues, sometimes in directorial jobs, other times behind the desk as assistants or associates, or as registrars or installers lose their jobs. It's happening already. Let’s not put the curators and dealers in a separate category. Many curators work for artist wages. And some dealers are hanging on just as tenuously as artists. Dealers have mortgaged their homes or apartments to keep their galleries running; some dealers don’t own homes. We’re all in the same boat.

Collateral damage: Art supply stores, framers, art handlers, printers, art consultants. These are traditional jobs for artists, many of whom are barely hanging on with two part-time jobs and no health benefits. And exhibiting artists!! More artists than ever have found representation in recent years. What happens when their galleries close down?


Theater and Dance
Equus, The Seagull, Grease, Young Frankenstein, Hairspray, Spamalot, Spring Awakening and other shows have recently closed or are about it. A theater district with dark theaters is, well, it's no longer a theater district.

Immediate damage: Actors and directors are out of a job. There’s the stage crew, the dressers, makeup and wardrobe people, and many more whose jobs I’m not aware of. And what’s going to sustain playwrights if there are no venues, producers if there are no audiences?

Collateral damage: The costume houses, the companies that supply clothing and shoes for dancers, musicians who play at those gigs. Add to this list the significant losses sustained by tax-paying restaurants, bars and parking garages in the theater district.
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Musical Events
From big concert halls to intimate jazz clubs, if people aren’t coming, the performance schedule gets cut back.

Immediate damage: Musicians, musical directors; the chefs, bartenders and waitstaff, many of whom are artists and performers earning enough to pay the rent. The unseen custodial staff will lose jobs, too.

Collateral damage: Need a reed in a hurry? A drum skin? Sheet music? You can find them all in a couple of instrument stores in New York City. When they’re gone, where ya gonna go? Add sound equipment and lighting companies, the drivers and movers of the equipment, many of them musicians moonlighting to make ends meet.


Now add the fashion industry
Fashion is the largest single manufacturer in New York City.
The spring and fall collections in Bryant Park and elsewhere around the city bring in thousands of fashionistas and reporters twice a year from all over the world. Laugh all you want at those guys with the Pee Wee Herman suits, and the Manolo-wearing women who all wear the same "in" clothes, but they’re eating and drinking and shopping and taking taxis and staying in hotels, often on expense accounts.

Immediate damage: The designers and manufacturers and their collective staffs. (Do you know there are companies off Seventh Avenue in the 20s and 30s that still make felt hats by hand? That pleat fabric? That make gloves? That do hand beading?) It’s not all made in China.

Collateral damage: The production companies, publicists, and army of professionals who promote and run the events. Plus the modest creative businesses that you might have overlooked: the fabric and notions shops (you've glimpsed them on Project Runway), the ever-shrinking floral market, the caterers and small shops that feed the fashion industry at lunch and special events.

Let's add small retail shops and boutiques, as well as larger stores. You don't have to cry over the profits of Federated or other megaretailers, but consider the fashion directors, visual merchandisers, sales staffers whose jobs will be shaved away. And let's not forget the garment workers.


Architecture and Design
I don’t know much about these industries, but I know that the construction industry wouldn’t have anything to build without this group of creative people who conceive the buildings and then fill their rooms with the furniture and objects that make those spaces inviting, from hotel rooms to restaurants to conference centers to apartment buildings and homes. Life as we know it would be visually lifeless.

Immediate damage: Architects, interior designers, product designers; the builders and manufacturers of all the products of these imaginations

Collateral damage: Artists and galleries; art consultants; fabric and furniture companies
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Publishing
When the New York Times is in trouble, the fecal matter, my friends, has made contact with the fan. What keeps the publishing industry alive? Advertising. Cars, cosmetics, fashion, travel. When ads are down, the magazines get thinner than a 14-year-old model with bulimia. (January issues are traditionally undernourished; check them out this year.) The book publishers aren’t doing any better; companies are cutting back on the number of novels they acquire. At least one company that I know of has put a moratorium on acquiring anything new.

Immediate damage: Anna Wintour may still be livin large, but there’s a raft of editors and writers, of art directors, designers, photographers, stylists about to drop off the cliff. Art critics are being cut from the mastheads, and freelancers are getting less than chump change. Book editors and designers, novelists, agents are all affected.

Collateral damage: Publishing employs a raft of freelancers in all areas, often artists who use their talents and skills to support their own art. When they can’t get work, where exactly are they going to go?

And more
I know I'm missing a lot of other creative industries: Cosmetics and beauty, for instance. And hospitality, which includes hotels and restaurants and the creative army of workers--from chefs and to publicists to food critics--who labor in it. Anyone want to add to my list?

The creative community is resourceful, inventive and hard working. We've always found ways to support ourselves. But prospects are looking bleak.

50 0ver 50 Has Been Canceled

Sorry, folks.

This online exhibition has been canceled.

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There were almost 100 submissions in my inbox this morning! When I posted this project here on the blog, I was thinking of it as something to involve my readers. Apparently the full text of this post was distributed by several arts organizations to their electronic bulletin boards and list serves. People who have never been to the blog before were submitting images. (I knew something was up when one artist asked me to e-mail her when the exhibition went up. That didn't sound like a blogosphere bunnie to me.)

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I cannot imagine processing 100 entries every day, or even half that, for the next two months. I am a working artist who maintains this blog as a labor of love. So with deep regrets I'm canceling this project. Many thanks to those of you who submitted work.

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Down the road I'll curate an exhibition on the same topic, but not via a call for submissions.

My Year in Review

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I saw a lot of art in 2008 and wrote about as much of it as I could. What follows is My Top 10, culled from what I posted. It's alphabetical because there's no way I could possibly quantify such a variety of artists, images and issues.
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El Anatsui at Jack Shainman
Call them paintings, tapestries or sculptures. Strips of metal are pierced and held together with twisted wire, row-on-row, but the overall effect is one of fluidity and organic growth.




Bourgeois at the Guggenheim
This was the career retrospective of nearly 70 years of work by a woman who, had she been born Louis, would have been bigger than Picasso. I hate the ramps, but metaphorically this was the place to have had the show: Bourgeois's oeuvre is a towering achievement.
Image courtesy of The Guggenheim


Donovan at the ICA, Boston
I ended up writing just about her cubes in a twinned post with Jackie Winsor, but the whole show, from styrofoam cups to Mylar mounds to drinking straws was a marvel of, well, straw into gold.
Image from the Internet


Geo/Metric at MoMA
An under-the-radar gem that was heads above just about anything else MoMA showed this year. And because all the work was from the museum's collection, photography was allowed. I went overboard with four posts.
Foreground, Bridget Riley

Geometry and Color in General
. All Kinds of Geometry and Abstraction from Abts to Zox
. Acute Conditions, Part 1 and Part 2
. Thomas Nozkowski
. On the Geometric Trail Thomas Nozkowski at Pace Wildenstein
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Heilmann at the New Museum
The perfect yin and yang of loose-limbed geometry and aggressive color in the best new white box in town.
Image courtesy of the museum


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Kapoor at the ICA, Boston
That big red dome of gooey wax, continually slumping and being remade, was the existential showstopper at the ICA in Boston , but don't overlook two concurrent shows at Barbara Gladstone .
Image courtesy of the ICA

Material Color at the Hunterdon Art Museum
“While it is not the entire story, the idea of paint as a sub-stantial material is central in all of these works," says curator Mary Birmingham. (I'm one of the artists in this show.)
Detail of painting by Wil Jansen

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Miami
Say what you will about the humongopalooza that takes place in December, but where else in the country can you see such a range of art in such a concentrated space for 12 hours a day--and bump into everyone you know while doing it?

Objects, Big and Black
The Armory fair and its satellites in March were full of menacing, mysterious, or quirky objets noirs.

Andy Yoder's licorice pipe, at the Winkleman Gallery booth

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A Few Bests and Mosts

Best show that got no critical attention: No Chromophobia
Holland, Roberta, Ken, Jerry, where were you? Curator Rick Witter filled all six exhibitions spaces at OK Harris with paintings in which color, typically embodied via reductive geometry, was the unifying element. (If you left “Color Chart” at MoMA wondering where the other half of the art world was, it was here.)

Best film whose plot you knew that still had you holding your breath: Man on Wire
That's Philippe Pettite on a cable strung between the Trade Towers on the morning of August 4, 1974. I posted it on 9/11.

Photo by Jean Louis Blondeau

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Most Ill-Timed Panel: Is The Killer Art Market Killing Art?
Great discussion back in March but who knew that while they were talking, the banks were collapsing, the Dow was at the precipice, and the economy was about to tank? The Downturn in Chelsea became apparent
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Best Blasts From the Past in the galleries
Morris Louis and Al Held at Paul Kasmin
Jackie Winsor Cubes at Paula Cooper, image left
Tadasky and Anuskiewicz at D. Wigmore Fine Art



Best 2007 show that continued into 2008: Martin Puryear at MoMA to January 14
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Best Bargain of 2008 or any year: Visiting the galleries for free

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Best Surprise: The crowd that turned up for Art Bloggers at Red Dot
Sharon Butler (Two Coats of Paint) and I had convened a similar event in Miami 2007 with a small (but lively) turnout, so imagine our surprise when you actually stepped away from the computer and headed over to this one. Thanks to George Billis of Red Dot for providing the space.
Image courtesy of Hrag Vartanian

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And the Art Booger Goes to . . . . . MoMA's Color Chart: Reinventing Color 1950 to Today
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The show was good, as far as it went. But let's get real. If color is being "reinvented" without women (6 artists out of 44) then it's really not being reinvented, is it?
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10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Welcome to 2009!

Drinking is overrated. Times Square is for tourists. And fireworks require you to be out in the cold. But these retinal bongs will propel you right into the New Year--and except for the bottom-most image, all the movement is in your brain.

(If you're nursing a hangover, you may want to return when your head stops hurting.)

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All images taken from the Internet

Looking into 2009

Click here for FAIR WEATHER, my report from the Miami art fairs

We can see the new year from here, so this post is not about looking into the future so much as it is simply looking at what's planned for the next few months. Here are a few events and upcoming posts:

Blogger Events
. Sunday, January 18 Sharon Butler, artist and blogger (Two Coats of Paint), and Austin Thomas, artist and director of Pocket Utopia, are planning what Sharon calls a "Blogger Conference/Think Tank/Pre-Inauguration Party" at Pocket Utopia in Brooklyn at 4:00 pm. (Sharon is my Art Bloggers @ partner, and while I have nothing to do with the planning of this particular event, I'll be attending with enthusiam, support and opinions.)
. Saturday, March 7, I'll be participating on a blogger panel at Platform Project Space in New York City with Hrag Vartanian and the Fallon and Rosof Artblog duo, Roberta Fallon and Libby Rosof. The panel is scheduled for late afternoon, around 5:00. Stay tuned for more, including info on a Twitter connection that Olympia's planning.
. . . . .The panel will follow the Thursday, March 5th, opening of Blogpix, a show at Platform curated by the four of us. Olympia Lambert, the gallery administrator at Platform and its support venue, Denise Bibro Fine Art, is directing the whole thing. I'll have a whole Blogpix post on the curators and artists as we get closer to the date, but here's the 411: Hrag has selected Ben La Rocco; Roberta and Libby have selected Christopher Davison; and I have gotten gluttinous in selecting four of my favorite painters: Steven Alexander, Sharon Butler, Reese Inman and Julie Karbenick.

Upcoming Features Here at JMAB
. Remembering Morandi An interview with New York gallerist Stephen Haller recalling his long-ago friendship with Giorgio Morandi
. 50 Over 50 A curated show of the work of 50 artists over 50, celebrating experience, perseverance and damn fine work. (Update 1.11.09: This is a change from the original premise, which was to have been from submissions; I got overwhelmed when my post went out to the list serve of several large arts organizations.)

FAIR WEATHER: Eye Benders

With this post, my reporting of the Miami art fairs is over
Already posted:
FAIR WEATHER: Deal or No Deal
FAIR WEATHER: Prologue
FAIR WEATHER: Art Basel
FAIR WEATHER: The Containers
FAIR WEATHER: Art Miami
FAIR WEATHER: Art Imitates Art
FAIR WEATHER: Pulse
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Animals
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Cut Paper
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Looms with a View
FAIR WEATHER: Aqua Hotel
FAIR WEATHER: Aqua Wynwood
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Stacks and Bales
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Giants
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Manual Labor
FAIR WEATHER: Scope
FAIR WEATHER: Red Dot
FAIR WEATHER: Bridge, Both Locations
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-Suspense
FAIR WEATHER: Trends and Coincidences-"We Are the Borg"
FAIR WEATHER: Geometry (First of Two)
FAIR WEATHER: Geometry (Second of Two)

Art Basel Miami Beach: Jon Thompson, The Toronto Cycle #2--The Beach Midday Sunlight, at Anthony Reynolds Gallery, London

I saw the painting above on the evening of the second day of viewing. It had a wonderfully unsettling quality, like heat rising up off the surface of a road on a 95-degree day. Those dots vibrated. But as the days wore on and my eyes wore out, subtleties like this just registered as blur.

I saved the most retinally intense for last--not because I saw them all on the last day, but because by the sixth day of looking at art, this is what looking felt like. I liked all of these paintings. Just not all at once.

Supernova at Art Basel Miami Beach: Ara Peterson at John Connelley Presents, New York




Supernova at ABMB: Ignacio Uriarte, 4 x 4 Single Line Labyrinth #1 and #2 at Nogueras Blanchard, Barcelona

Individual work below, with detail below that





.Aqua Hotel: Thomas Burke, OS3: Spiral Scratch, Version 2. 23 inches in diameter, at Western Projects, Culver City, California
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