Be the Change Blog

Art & business: strange bedfellows?

There is a romantic mythology surrounding artists.  In this myth, artists are a breed apart, fed by creative passions that the rest of us cannot understand.  Their creativity is fed by alienation, loneliness and separation from the work-a-day world most of us inhabit.  In this myth, the only possible connection between artists and non-artists revolves around the marketing of their work.  Others can be benificent patrons or blatant exploiters, but never co-equal collaborators.

In my work as an entrepreneur, I have experienced these attitudes first-hand.  Sometimes artists want to exhibit in Hoopla's boutique, but are taken aback when I explain that we show artwork on a 50-50 consignment basis.  That is standard in the business, but many artists view galleries and shops as vultures who simply enjoy a windfall from the fruits of their labors. 

In my view, the relationship between artist and gallery/shop is more one of co-production.  Yes, the artist invests much time, energy and creativity in producing the works of art.  But a good gallery owner invests an equal amount of time, energy and creativity in producing a suitable environment for showing and selling art.  For Hoopla, that means first and foremost that we try to create a space where people come expecting to find unique, wonderous creations.  Then we hire and train staff who appreciate good art and have an open, welcoming attitude.  When that is all in place, we find artists whose work fits with our sensibilities, and do our best to promote their exhibit to our clientele.  Finally, on the night of the opening, we go all out to create a party atmosphere with good food, drink and conversation that sparks people's interest in the art. 

Most of our artists at Hoopla understand the realities of art and business, and are happy to work with us to create conditions that are conducive to selling art.  It is very gratifying when we find artists who really "get" what we are trying to do.  Tammy Vitale, whose wonderful ceramic sculptures are still on display at Hoopla, wrote recently on her blog, Women, Art, Life: Weaving it all Together, that upscale boutiques are a wonderful venue for selling art, because they know how to showcase the work and throw a great party to bring in clients who not only like art, but can afford to buy!   

I want to end this post by challenging the myth that artists are a breed apart.  Ellen Langer, whose book On Becoming an Artist I mentioned in an earlier post, claims that creativity is a birthright that belongs to everyone.  She cites study after study (she is a psychologist) that demonstrate that we all have creativity, but that we let self-defeating attitudes get it in the way of expressing it.  She also makes the point that any activity done with full mindfulness is, in essence, a creative activity. 

To me, although I write every day and have dreams of some day being a WRITER in capital letters, the real growth comes from accepting that everything I do can be done creatively.  That includes the business of running a boutique and creating a space for its own unique qualities to emerge. 

Julia Cameron, in The Sound of Paper, says it this way:

"The lightning bolts remind me of how we think and talk about creativity.  The way we speak in dramatic terms of 'breakthroughs.'  We even use the phrase 'bolt of insight.'  Every so often, just like tonight's storm, I do get a creative breakthrough or a bolt of insight, but much more often creativity is pedestrian and nondramatic, more a matter of suiting up and showing up and listening than standing on the edge of the cliff as the earth splits open at my feet. ...  I think if we talked more realistically about what creativity feels like, we might let ourselves do a little more of it.  If we thought of it as normal -- 98.6 on the human spectrum -- instead of a sudden spike in our psychic temperature, we might let ourselves do it as a daily practice. ... Creativity is not aberrant, not dramatic, not dangerous.  If anything, it is the pent-up energy of not using our creativity that feels that way."

On becoming an artist

I'm posting this from Provincetown where I have spent the week relaxing and getting back in touch with my creativity -- reading and re-reading the books that remind me that everyone is creative, it is just a matter of being present to our creative side.  A new book that I have been enjoying is called "On Becoming an Artist" by Ellen Langer, a social psychologist who describes a path to what she calls a mid-life renaissance.   Ellen describes the findings from many experiments that describe how we are our own worst enemies when it comes to nurturing our creativity.  One of the worst things we do is compare ourselves mindlessly to others, rather than being mindful of our own intentions in the present moment.  In fact, Ellen believes that "mindfulness" is the key to just about everything creative, and her book helps bring that concept to life.  I have tried to practice the Buddhist concept of mindfulness for years, using yoga, meditation and the like.  But Ellen's definitions and examples from real life make the concept much more real and down to earth.  For example, how many times have you started something, only to give up at the first little "mistake"?  Ellen's point is that it is our perspective on mistakes that is the problem, not the mistake itself.  In fact, most great works of art have qualities that could be considered a mistake, but the artist has capitalized on them to make the piece truly unique rather than a carbon copy of the original.  So, Ellen encourages us to take up a new creative endeavor, do it just for the pleasure of the experience, and stop evaluating the results.  This is what she means by "becoming an artist," and I think she is on to something good.

Is art a luxury?

Sculptor Tammy Vitale posted a provocative quote on her blog today, pointing out that "business is business, and, fundamentally, that corporate interest in the arts is self-interest."  The quote goes on to say that artists should determine "just how enlightened that self-interest is in order to evaluate the possibilities for entering the corporate marketplace..."  See the rest of Tammy's thoughts on this subject here.

Tammy raises the question: "Is art a luxury?" -- a question I wrestled with mightily when I was the director of Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts (VLA) in Boston.  For every person who believes that "man [and woman] does not live by bread alone," there are others who believe that food, shelter and security must take precedence.  Even Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs implies that unless one has satisfied basic security needs, it is impossible to appreciate the more intangible qualities of life.  When seeking money for the VLA, I encountered many corporate funders who could not see their way to funding a program for artists when there were homeless people waiting to be served.

I, however, heartily disagree with that position.  Consider Victor Frankel, who in the midst of the most inhumane conditions of a concentration camp found the space within himself to experience the beauty of life and spirituality.  To me, art is an essential of life, and not a luxury.  In the midst of posting this blog, I was drawn into a conversation in the hallway of Hoopla with Robyn Einhorn, my assistant manager and curator, and a regular customer who was appreciating Geoff Ault's photography. 

We got to talking about why we collect the things we do, even when our tiny Capitol Hill homes don't give us room to display them.  Robyn collects teacups that she never drinks from.  Our customer has a collection of little people figurines that she inherited from an uncle who collected model trains.  I was talking about acquiring another of Geoff's photographs, even though I haven't yet found the wall space to hang the one he gave me last Fall as a housewarming gift. 

We all agreed on one thing, we collect art because it feeds our souls.  That should not be a luxury that only the well-to-do can afford.