As an artist, I’m always a little surprised that many people find art galleries intimidating.  I’m even more surprised that artists are often perceived as unapproachable, cerebral and formidable.  Many in the general public seem to believe that art is some sort of rarefied commodity that is incomprehensible to regular people.  This is the only possible explanation for the comment that I, an abstract artist, often hear: “I don’t understand abstract art.”  (Hint: there is nothing to “understand”; only to appreciate.)

            I had long suspected this “art on a pedestal” issue was an obstacle to sales. My view was confirmed last night at the Walker Fine Art Gallery’s Art Conversation Series.  The topic of the evening was “Less is More; Minimalism and Abstraction”.  http://www.walkerfineart.com

            Now you might be asking, What on earth does Minimalism and Abstraction have to do with making Art Galleries and the purchase of original art less intimidating?  The answer would be, er, exactly … nothing.  It is just that the conversation began with the actual stated topic, led by Gallery Director Mckenzie Chandler, an art history major.  The comments were diverse and quite fascinating.  The conversation then veered off onto a tangent or two, one of which was the intimidation factor and how to get newbies into art galleries so that we can introduce them to the concept of original art.  Bobbi said that she gets calls on a regular basis from folks who are inquiring into the admission fee for her gallery.  (Spoiler alert: admission is free)

Purchasing original art, especially local art, is an idea whose time has come, if you ask me and you are asking me if you’re reading my blog.  So, Dear Readers, have you all any ideas on how to initiate “normal” people who are intimidated by art galleries and artists into exploring, appreciating and purchasing fine art?  If you have any fabulous ideas, leave them as comments.  I’ll explore some of the ideas that we discussed on Tuesday in my next blog installment.

YOU JUST NEVER KNOW

I did an art fair last weekend.  The weather was, well, not good.  Make that horrible. 

We had rain and tornados throughout our city on the first day.  While neither the rain nor the tornados hit our fair, nonetheless, folks stayed home.  The second day was even worse. This time the rain did hit our art fair.  Basically, the heavens opened and it poured while we artists huddled alone and bedraggled in our tents. The buyers mostly stayed home.

I sold about 10% of what I had sold the previous year and far less than I had ever sold in the six years that I’ve been doing this fair.  I was not alone.  According to my sources (other artists with whom I am friends), many other artists also didn’t sell well.  After all, one needs Buyers in order to sell.

 You’d think from this bleak scenario that I’d be discouraged.  I was - at first.  Until I remembered my mantra: “You just never know”.  What I mean by “You just never know” is that you just never know if your next fabulous collector was at the fair.  You just never know if they are busy consulting with their significant other (or CEO) and will be calling you today.   Or tomorrow.  Or next week.  Or next month.

Lest you think this is pie in the sky wishful thinking, I assure you it is not.  You just never know really has happened to me.  Here’s the scoop.

I did a show last year that was a near complete bust.  I sold one 12” x 12” piece in the 2 ½ days of the show.  The temperature was 100 degrees each day.  We were all miserable, hot, tired and frustrated by the end of the weekend.  However, one of the couples who popped into my booth loved my art but needed a different color for their Florida home.  I told them that I had a color and size they might like in my studio.  They said they’d call me for a studio tour.  This sounded like a “be back” but it wasn’t.  They did call.  This lovely couple came to my studio, loved the piece and bought it.

Yesterday, these fabulous collectors called again and wish to purchase yet another piece that they saw on my website.  And they would like a small piece as a gift. 

So, an awful show has magically morphed into a fabulous show from which I’ve sold two decent sized pieces and probably one small one – so far.  The lesson is that you just never know when lemons will turn into lemonade or when no sales will turn into excellent sales.

You just never know.