By Frank Van Riper
Special to Camera Works
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
4:35 PM
You know you have achieved some measure of success as an artist when you are asked to contribute work to an auction by well-meaning friends or by local organizations.
You know you have achieved even more of a measure of success as an artist when you can tell these folks (politely, of course) to take a hike.
I admit: this is not a very charitable way to view what oftentimes are appeals by charitable organizations, many of whose goals are laudable and worthy of support.
But consider this complaint, from a well known artist in Maine (where we have just returned from our summer sojourn), who was voicing her own blunt opinion of being asked yet again to, in effect, give her work away:
"Art and auctions do not mix, in my opinion," she said. "They do not belong together...At an auction the participants want a 'bargain" -- that's the implication when one hears 'auction' -- getting a good (i.e.: low) price on something that's really worth more...."
"So here you have created a LOSE-LOSE situation. The artist, once again, gets nothing for doing work. The fundraiser raises much less than it had hoped, (after having spent) a couple of months chasing artists and guilt-tripping them into donating..."
I know the artist I am quoting only slightly, but I am very aware of her first-rate work: hand-colored wood and linoleum block cuts that are widely exhibited in New England and elsewhere and that are in a number of excellent galleries and collections, including that of the University of Maine at Machias.
How did I get wind of her comments? Through a letter she sent to a group I belong to, which (surprise, surprise) had organized an auction this summer to raise money for a worthy cause and which had spent long hours on the phone asking, cajoling -- hell, badgering -- artists to contribute work for nothing.
I agreed with almost every point this artist raised, yet I also was one of the people soliciting free contributions and who, in fact, had contributed free work himself.
Was I hypocritical in saying one thing yet doing another? And just plain dumb in (once again) giving my work away?
No on both counts, I think. And I will explain, but first the points my colleague makes are worthy of discussion.
"Why are artists continually asked to work for nothing?" my colleague's letter ended. Why indeed? I frankly think one reason this subject comes up so often is that people who toil in the 9-5 world view artists as free spirits who, following their own muse and inspiration, are having a big-time ball doing what they want, when they want. Asking these folks to "give back" some of that good time in the form of a charitable contribution is not merely reasonable, it's only fair, right?
[Try this argument on some other professionals you may know -- people who simply love being lawyers, for example -- and see how far you get asking them to contribute their work product free and with depressing regularity with every new auction or fundraiser.]
This view also conveniently avoids the hard fact that virtually all artists either are freelances whose income is never assured, or who have to support their art by teaching, waiting tables, or in our case, shooting weddings.
And all of us have the same bills that everyone else has.
Then there is the hardy perennial argument that contributing to a charitable event will be "great publicity for you." Oh really? When was the last time you saw an artist's name at an event like this printed in anything but tiny type in an auction catalog or on an equally small label on a wall?
Great publicity? For the sponsoring organization perhaps, or for the charity. But never for the artist.
I experience variations on this theme every so often with my photographs and/or my words. During this past summer, for example, I got an e-mail from an art consulting firm in Manhattan asking permission to reprint a column I had written about a particular photographer in a glitzy catalog that the firm was preparing to accompany an exhibition of the photographer's work at a law firm in midtown Manhattan.
"Of course we would give you credit," the e-mail said.
Leaving aside that it would have been difficult to reprint my column without giving me credit, I informed the art consultants that I would be happy to oblige, once they paid a $500 reproduction fee -- a standard practice for writers like myself, who retain copyright to their work after it appears online or in print.
No dice, came the reply. My request for payment "actually does not fit in with our budget for this show."
Oh my oh my. Just for the hell of it I told these folks that they certainly were not going to be able to come up with any article as succinct yet all-encompassing as mine, or that included such good original quotes from the photographer.
"It goes without saying that the law firm can afford it," I went on. "Your firm, I surmise, simply does not want to pay my totally reasonable repro fee out of the money allocated to you for the show. That's your prerogative.
"My prerogative is to tell you this is a mistake..."
Did the consulting firm then turn around and pay me? Of course not. But I felt better.
A few weeks later, one of our wedding venues came sniffing around for free use of one of our photos for use on a website that was to promote their location.
Read: Promote them.
Not us.
No payment.
No way.
But, of course, not everything is measured in dollars and cents and this is where my artist/correspondent and I part company. In fact, I believe that "art and auctions DO mix," or at least can mix when an artist supports the cause being promoted and willingly -- even happily -- views his or her contribution of artwork as being even more meaningful than a simple monetary donation.
That's what happened for many of us this summer when we got together to hold the first-ever "Art & Things Auction" to support efforts to restore the McCurdy Smokehouse complex that anchors the small downtown of Lubec, Maine, the easternmost town in the United States, on the Lubec narrows between the US and Campobello, New Brunswick. McCurdy's was the last operating herring smokehouse in the US before it was forced to shut down (wrongfully, it turned out) by the federal government over issues of health and safety. The once-gorgeous red-trimmed and cedar-shingled smokehouses, pickling shed and other buildings fell into disrepair in the late 90s -- one building even collapsed into the sea. But after a while a group of concerned folks -- locals and those of us "from away," formed Lubec Landmarks, Inc. to try to restore the complex and turn it into a tourist venue with a museum and shops.
It has been a very hard slog, occasionally helped by grant money, but mostly it has been a homegrown effort to hold onto this important part of Lubec's history and heritage.
It is a cause that my wife Judy and I support, as do many -- though obviously not all -- of our artist friends and colleagues.
Those who view future Art & Things auctions as yet another way to exploit artists are free to say no thank you when the phone rings.
The rest of us are free to say yes. The important thing is that each of us can respond as we please.
DOCUMENTARY PHOTOGRAPHY CLASS, FLASH WORKSHOP WITH FRANK VAN RIPER
Photography columnist and author Frank Van Riper will once again teach his popular 6-week evening workshop in documentary photography and photographic printing at Glen Echo Park's PhotoWorks studio this fall and winter. The Thursday evening classes will begin September 22nd and February 15th respectively and run from 7pm to 10:30pm each week.
In addition, Frank will teach a one day, hands-on flash photography workshop, Saturday, October 1st, entitled "Flash Photography Demystified...or Flash is Your Friend (Honest.)"
In the documentary class students will be expected to initiate or continue a project of their choosing, with the goal of producing a finished picture story by the end of the session. Students wishing to accompany their photo essays with written text are encouraged to do so. Class size is limited. Early registration is suggested. For information on both the documentary course and flash workshop: 301-320-7757.
Frank's Picks
An occasional feature with Frank Van Riper's recommendations on current shows, exhibitions, as well as other subjects, that are worthy of a look. They concentrate on -- though are not limited to -- photography and the visual arts.
Personal Photo Instruction in Venice
Part of the fun of working on long-term projects in exotic locales is the people you meet and the friends you make. Over the more than six years that Judy and I have been working on our book about Venice, we have made many dear friends there, among them Mario Mazziol, one of the best and most enthusiastic photographers we ever have had the pleasure to work with. A veteran shooter whose work has been published internationally, Mario is now offering individual photography instruction all over Venice and its environs -- the kind of one-on-one master class most of us only can dream of attending. Mario prefers to limit his workshop size to three people and allows clients to tailor their instruction to their schedules. A native Venetian who loves his city, Mario knows all of its nooks and crannies (trust me: we have been there with him). And his English, his sense of humor -- as well as his rates--are excellent. For more information: "School of Seeing: Venice Workshop"
Frank Van Riper is Washington-based commercial and documentary photographer and author. His current book is Talking Photography (Allworth Press), a collection of his Washington Post and other photography writing over the past decade. He can be reached through his website http://www.gvrphoto.com/.
Frank Van Riper columns before 2005 -->