If you are lucky enough to have gallery representation of any kind (and many are getting by quite nicely without), you know that the relationship between artist and dealer can be fraught with both angst and anxiety. The bond is “like a marriage in its duration, with its bumps and disappointments, but it also offers the true pleasures and rewards of trust and long-term commitment,” notes Mary Sabbatino, vice-president and partner at Galerie Lelong in New York. “The layer of commerce brings another dimension of complexity because the dealer is the conduit and generator of an artist’s income.”
Snagging one in the first place may be the toughest hurdle. I’ve covered some basics in “Courting the Dealers” and offered advice from several gallerists on the best way to make an approach via email. If you’re on the brink of cementing a relationship, you’ll want to think seriously about having a contract, and though I was sure most in the business would say, “Absolutely, you have to have one,” I was surprised at the number who navigate on no more than a handshake. (This is clearly something you’ll have to negotiate, delicately, but if I were an artist in this day and age, I would want that that piece of paper in hand.)
Mary Sabbatino of Galerie Lelong, one of the premier galleries in New York and Paris
And just as in a marriage, all kinds of difficulties can arise, no matter how simpatico you and your dealer seem to be. One of the most common is getting paid; another is finding out who your collectors are; and then there is the issue of who does the lion’s share of the promoting. Other considerations include: how good a relationship the dealer has with museum curators and collectors; how much of a commission the gallery takes; and when it’s time to say good-bye and move on. These are among the topics covered in “The Tie That Binds…or Not,” parts one and two.
There no trade unions for artists or other organizations that represent their interests across the board. Peter Roux, a smart and savvy painter who has worked with numerous galleries, notes that artists are even reluctant to share their problems with one another so that they might identify some of the issues to look out for. “We’re wary of complaining about unscrupulous practices, particularly on any social-media platform, for fear of being blacklisted,” he says. “We all need to help one another as we are a large group of isolated folks who work with no group protection. Identifying issues with gallerists, especially if they are chronic, can help someone avoid that issue with that party in the future. And we can help by putting out ideas for resolution.”
Peter Roux, a terrific painter and a generous source
In reading back over these informative (if I do say so myself) reports, I realize how grateful I am to the many artists, like Peter, who have generously contributed ideas and information. Dealers all over the country have also been awesomely forthcoming with their expertise and hard-won wisdom, and though times are tough for the mid-level galleries (just as they are for the middle classes), let’s offer a big hand to those that are hanging on in one way or another.
And now here’s what members have been up to lately….
Taking into account our headlong and probably irreversible damage to the planet in the last few decades, Rhonda Smith writes, “I have made pieces that are homage to the beauty and intricacies of natural phenomenon and, in an installation, created a battle site that visualizes my distraught view of human versus nature. Buildings, constructed of clay, wire and found materials, represent humankind. They are ambitious yet under assault. The nature component in this installation is intent on being yet also besieged, showing signs of the intense, toxic ventures of humans.” So it’s fitting that the name of her show at the Kingston Gallery in Boston, through June 30, is “Oh, that beautiful planet, what have we done?”
Rhonda Smith, Imagined City (2019), clay, wire, and found materials, 18 by 42 by 18 inches
Another great source for the site has been Adria Arch, whose show “LeapTwistTurn” is at 3S ArtSpace in Portsmouth, NH, through July 14. It’s been a real pleasure over the last 3.5 years to watch Arch’s works evolve from two-dimensional confines to brave and buoyant installations that feel like Surrealist biomorphs pried loose from traditional mediums to boogie in real space. Here are photos of the work at 3S and from the well-attended opening, where Luminarium Dancers frolicked amid shapes made from PVC, aluminum, mirrors, and commercial fabric. Way cool!
From June 15 through November 12, Linda Stillman is part of “Madness in Vegetables: Hudson Valley Artists 2019” at the Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art, SUNY, New Paltz, NY. The show ”calls for works that address the political and civic implications of choosing a rural life; the enticing beauty and repellant brutality of nature; our ever-changing climate; the wild character of plants, gardens, forests, and fauna; the relevance, power and forms of anthropomorphic mythmaking; and poetic and fantastical interpretations of the woodlands.” And two pages from her copy of the U.S. Constitution are included in the installation of Morgan O’Hara’s inspiring project, “Handwriting the Constitution,” a social art initiative she began in January 2017, at the Mitchell Algus Gallery on the Lower East Side in New York.
Linda Stillman, Conservatory Garden: Collate (detail). 2016, collaged flower stains, graphite on paper, 21 by 16 inches
“All Art + Blue Yellow Red” was the name of a group exhibition that included A.J. Dungan at the Van Der Plas Gallery in New York, which lasted only four days from June 5-9, and I was remiss in posting about it last week. But you can still catch him at MuCCC Gallery in Rochester, NY, through June 30. As I wrote about him for the site, ten years ago Dungan began pursuing the figure “to have a dialogue with people who didn’t understand art, but could appreciate it. Working with gestures, poses, expressions on a face opens up another conversation.” His latest canvases are smash-ups of the nude, often in conventional studio poses, realized through vigorous line and patches of flat, often off-key color—industrial grays, rusty reds, and sour yellow ocher. When I ask if a certain level of violence is intended, he answers, “I call it energy.”
A. J. Dungan, Immaterial Artifacts (2019), acrylic on canvas, 36 by 36 inches
Through November 10, “Trash Talk: History in Assemblage” will be featuring over 40 sculptures and paintings by Jim Condon at the Delaware Contemporary in Wilmington, DE. “Condron’s pieces are titled with a textual story fragment intended to add to each work’s rhetoric, rather than naming or defining it,” notes the centers website. “Titles are applied to the pieces with the same method that Condron assembles materials. Phrases from literature that resonate with the artist are appropriated from an array of great authors such as Don DeLillo, James Salter, Anton Chekhov, Nikolai Gogol, Oscar Wilde, Hunter Thompson, Kurt Vonnegut, Ernest Hemingway, Henry Miller, Anais Nin. These works are paired with quotations by famous historical artists and authors ‘talking trash’ about the work of other famous historical artists and authors. These humorous pairings affirm Condron’s view that someone’s meaningless trash is someone else’s art and history.”
Jim Condron, Conscience and cowardice are really the same thing (2019),oil, resin, fur, pencil, plaster, wood, 17 by 17 by 8 inches
Sheila Miles has three shows in the works this summer: Through July 26, she is part of “Art Is a Moving Target” at the Holter Museum of Art in Helena, Montana; in July, she has a solo at Palette Contemporary Art and Craft in Albuqueque, NM; and she will be having a pop-up August 8-10 at the Brunswick Gallery, in Missoula, MT. Often using photos shot from the windows a car as source material, Miles brings a moodiness reminiscent of Edward Hopper to her scenes of Western life. Her portraiture shows an equally deft grasp of the sometimes harsh, sometimes beautiful realities of the people and places in this part of the world.
Sheila Miles, Bronc Rider (2019), oil and wax on canvas, 36 by 30 inches.
Kim Thoman will be having an open studio on Saturday and Sunday, June 15 and 16 (11 a.m. to 6 p.m.), at 935 Grace Avenue in Emeryville, CA. Her “They” series, she writes, is based on a figurative form, and references the Crucifixion as a metaphor for duality—human vs. deity or body vs. soul. Specifically, the feet are nailed or tied together but can also be seen as feminine pointy toes. All with a crown of thorns, of sorts, on his/her head. I think of the painting as the ‘body.’ And, it’s in paint that it’s natural for shapes of leaves, flowers and branches/trees to hatch out in my process, perhaps bringing the regenerative and the life-affirming or feminine to mind.”
Kim Thoman, They 3 (2018), oil paint and welded steel, 80 by 37 by 14
Two of my favorite dealers in New York, Liz Garvey and Valerie McKenzie (both also great sources for this site), will be collaborating “Ann Aspinwall: A Spirit of Place,” described in the announcement as “an exhibition of the artist’s recent work in silkscreen, etching, linocut, and collagraph. Limiting herself to the minimal elements of undulating parallel lines and a few carefully selected colors, Aspinwall creates luminous expanses suggestive of landscape, water, and sky. Patient and serene, the scale of these prints serve as ample ground for meditation.” At McKenzie Fine Arts on Orchard Street in New York, June 14 through July 14.
Ann Aspinwall, Spirit of Place IIE, screenprint and hand-coloring, 19 by 28 inches
And that’s about enough for one week to keep you reading and looking.
As mentioned ad nauseum, I’m backing off from content for the site, at least for the short term, to return to the freelance life. But if that crashes and burns, or I start to miss you all too much, I may come back and do another fundraiser in a couple of months. Never say never.
After next week, I’ll start putting out the newsletter bi-monthly, or possibly monthly, so keep me posted on your shows and news. And, as always, please send details! I need a few sentences (just a few, please!) about the work, plus title, date, size, and medium. Jpgs should be 800 pixels on the longest dimension, per the requirements of the beloved postal ape, Mailchimp.
Keep the faith!
Top: The formidable Liliana Bloch with artist Bret Slater in her Dallas gallery
