Tag Archives: Unsolicited advice

Citizenship, Values

So You’re Planning an Art Auction: Do’s and Don’t’s

If you’re thinking about organizing an art auction, be aware of what makes an auction effective, and what is attractive to artist-donors. The Bay Area has a thriving arts scene, wonderful progressive culture and vibrant non-profit community, but with so many good causes to support, artists have to consider where their contributions will be most effective.

These are the criteria I use when I receive invitations to donate art:

Values: Is the cause worthy?
I want to help groups whose values match my own, especially those with under-served and under-funded constituencies. The need should be identifiable. Groups with a commitment to the the arts (and not just via “exposure” in your art auction) especially appeal to me.

Track record: Is the organization worthy?
I want to see evidence of an effective track record. Ideal groups make miracles on a shoestring, but are not so broke as to cultivate a culture of scarcity, crisis and turnover. Interest groups and collectives should demonstrate real capacity; initial enthusiasm to start a pet project is rarely convincing alone. Also, be transparent about your non-profit 501(c)3 status.

Art and Auction Experience: Will the auction be effective?
An art auction is only successful when the organizer sells the art. I look for groups with the ability to attract art-loving audiences and create bid-friendly environments. Having proven curators or installers on board tells me that (1) you’ve got the know-how to handle and install art, and (2) you are more likely to value my time and labor. Big red flags: You’ve never organized an art auction or installed art before. You don’t have a sense of what price range is reasonable at your event. Your publicity strategy involves hoping that my name on a flyer will be enough to attract an art-buying audience (wish it was, but it’s not… yet).

Exposure: To whom? For what? Under what conditions?
Most artists don’t just want any exposure. If you were an artist, what kind of exposure would you want: your work hung in a narrow hallway, bumped by drunk party-goers and sold for a low price? Or hung in a tasteful gallery populated by engaged viewers and interested bidders? I want useful exposure, such as sharing my work with collectors, curators and critics, to get positive responses about the work, under advantageous conditions — the best possible presentation, where the work is not undervalued.

Presentation: To complement or diminish my profile?
Publicity materials should be attractive and professional. If they are not, artists will not send them out to their own lists, and art buyers will not attend. Mail a stack of postcards to the artists well ahead of the event date. Ensure the venue will be appropriate for an art exhibit. Publicize the artists’ names on your press releases and web site. After all, artists are donors as much as anyone else.

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What to Do

• Use a lender form.
• Agree on the terms of the auction.
• If possible, insure the art in your possession.
• Help struggling artists offset shipping and/or framing costs.
• Invite the artist to the auction (sounds obvious, but you’d be surprised). Put them on the comp list if there is an admission fee.
• Hang the art properly. Don’t damage it.
• During and after the event, deal with the buyers. Do not expect the artists to sell their own work, or deliver the work to the collectors after you collect the funds.
• Pack unsold art properly. Don’t damage it.
• Return unsold art and send tax letters and checks promptly.
• If, in addition, you ask for artists’ time, be courteous.

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What Not to Do: A Case Study

I’ve learned the above lessons through good and bad experiences donating art. Here’s one story that taught me to donate with caution.

I was asked to show up three hours in advance of the auction to talk to the media — but the media were not expected to arrive until an hour before the auction. My two hour wait, it seems, was intended to allow the communications officer 10 minutes to go over his talking points with me. I was happy to be a mouthpiece for a worthy cause, but the long wait was a huge waste of time. In the end, I didn’t see one press person. My patience ran out 30 minutes before the auction. I slipped out because I was so annoyed that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the auction, nor help others enjoy it.

My art sold, but it was delivered back to me — damaged. I spent months having the work re-framed and scheduling pick-up dates with the buyer.

Perhaps most egregiously, the organization was inconsistent about the logistics of the monetary transaction. The buyer paid the organization at the event, but I was told to ask him for a check. In my opinion, an organization should never put me (a donor) and the buyer (another donor) in the awkward position of trying to collect money from each other.

Not everything was awful: the volunteer curator was delightful and professional to work with. Cheap Pete’s replaced the frames free of charge. And I still believe that this particular organization fulfills a necessary role.

But I would think twice before entering any agreement that asked so much of donating artists, especially organizations with whom I have little to no relationship before and after the auction.

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Art & Development

Why are artists poor? How to support artists.

I hope, dear readers, that you don’t suspect that artists are busy drinking cappuccinos and adjusting their berets, too self-absorbed to get a real job. Rather, the costs of being an artist are high; financial rewards are speculative. For emerging artists, renumeration is nominal and rare.

Like Thoreau in Walden Pond, I’d like to tell you about my expenses. But unlike the Romantic recluse, I can advocate a downscaled lifestyle in theory, but not in practice. Being an artist requires that I “think big,” and that means that I “make big.”

I have to struggle against my penny-pinching instincts when it comes to art materials, because being too cheap is terrible for artmaking. Inadequate materials will undermine a work before it even gets off the ground.

To give you a sense of what being an artist costs, here are some figures I’ve tallied:

A recent project, an edition of 170 Miniature Multiples, cost over $200, or $1.35 per Miniature, in supplies alone:

$75 paper
$26 tape*
$9 glue
$60 paper cutter, blades*
$30 printing/paper
$30 stamps

*Of the purchased supplies, the paper cutter, a tape dispenser and some double-stick tape are the only leftover supplies I’ll have for future use — everything else has been depleted.

But the cost of making art can pale in comparison to the expense of showing art. Preparing for a recent show, I spent well over over $400. (This figure is actually modest—think of photographers who make large prints, video artists who utilize digital projectors, etc.) Here’s where the money went:

$138 frames, plexi, museum board**
$155 installation materials and tools: drywall, lumber, painting supplies, drywall tools
$20 cleaning supplies
$24 shelf & brackets
$26 respirator for re-sanding during de-installation

**The cost of assembling five low-cost, ready-made frames is barely equal to the cost of one professional frame.

Yet these supply expenses are relatively small compared with the cost of labor, education, and other self employed overhead (such as health insurance).

So why even bother?

I decided to be an optimist because I believe optimism is necessary for maintaining a life as an artist. I’m confident that the rewards of being an artist–which are personal, but potentially also professional–are worth the costs.

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How to Support Artists.

1. Show up. Go to the shows. Look at the work.
2. Tell them when they’re doing something neat.
3. Tell others when they’re doing something really neat.
4. Buy stuff. If you hire artists, compensate them for their time, training and overhead, as you would accordingly for any other profession. You can’t pay rent with exposure.

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