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ART DEALERS FROM HELL...

AND HOW TO SPOT THEM

(Also recommended reading on the topic: Art Dealers From Hell, Part II - The Bullet Points)

I've written a ton of articles over the years about protocol for artists-- what to do, how to do it, how to approach this situation or that, how to price your art, how to write or speak about your art or present to potential buyers, how to make sales, how to approach galleries, how to get shows, and on and on and on. Why? Because being an artist these days is a mite more complicated than holing up in the studio and tapping into The Great Creative Fervor. And having a little ammo in the satchel before exposing your oeuvre to the world certainly helps you understand, appreciate and abide by the process. Yes indeed it does.

Now the large majority of my writing takes a decidedly pro gallery and pro dealer approach because, frankly speaking, galleries play an absolutely critical role with respect to any artist who expects to ascend to anywhere in today's art world. But you know something? In the art gallery and art dealer realm, just like in any other profession on the planet, there are exemplars and there are assholes-- not a lot of assholes mind you, but enough to make life difficult for any artist who happens to get mixed up with one. To complicate the artscape, the overwhelming majority of artists will do just about anything to get their art into galleries, and devious dealers, being well aware of this, know exactly what to do in order to take advantage... and how far they can go.

The weird part is they don't seem to realize that the more artists they cheat, the more they get shunned, and that without artists and art, they can't continue to exist. Or maybe they just don't care, or they see the supply chain of victims as unlimited and believe they can perpetrate whatever abominations they please for as long as they feel like it. Regardless of what their twisted rationales may be, they're sterling silver jerks, and artists would do well to not to get involved. So in the interest of all artists everywhere who are under the mistaken impression that galleries can do no wrong and that if someone offers you an opportunity to show your art, you automatically accept, I'm here to tell you they can do wrong... and they do... and it's bad. The following is a quick tutorial on how to spot and avoid that bane of banes-- art dealers from hell.

Perhaps the number one tipoff that you've encountered a malignant practitioner is when you begin to get the feeling that they're important and you're not-- like for instance they're doing you a huge favor just by giving you an audience. Or they blather on and on about how much money they have or how prominent they are, how great their galleries are, who they know, what boards they sit on, how many big deals they're working on, and so on and so forth, barf infinitum. Pomposity like this is an unequivocal giveaway. When the order of the day is that you defer to them like royalty while they don't even have the courtesy to treat you professionally or with respect, you're in trouble. When you have to grovel just to get them to look in your direction, when they decide if or when they'll respond to even your slightest request, when it's all about them, then it's time for you to evacuate the premises-- and fast. These are not people you want to do business with.

Another indication that caution may be in order is when a gallery makes monster promises right off the top like enticing you with prospects of a fantastic solo show, exposure at art fairs, insider access, impressive selling prices, and of course, sales, sales, and more sales-- in spite of the fact that they don't even know you, you don't know them, and they have absolutely zero experience representing your art. One explanation for these alluring propositions is that galleries are in heavy competition with each other, particularly in major art centers, and if you happen to be regarded as an artist with the potential to make a gallery look good (or to generate sales), then consider yourself a prime target for all kinds of offers-- good as well as bad. Regardless of their motivations, be aware that less scrupulous dealers will have no qualms about doing whatever they have to do to sign you on-- whether they have any inkling about being able to follow through on their promises or not.

Artists are particularly vulnerable to grandiose overtures when they come from trendy new galleries, fresh on the scene and attracting lots of attention. Though these venues may be the artland darlings du jour, they're often undercapitalized, inexperienced, have tenuous (if any) collector bases, and have no idea what it takes to survive the long haul. In the real world, great galleries and great artist/gallery relationships evolve slowly over time-- never overnight. Get all googly-eyed and place your fate in the hands of some big talking pie-in-the-sky pontificator if you want, but don't be naive about potential outcomes, and know in advance that the chances of their air castles fully materializing are typically minimal.

In other words, don't get caught up in the hype. If you're one of those artists who's fortunate enough to be receiving offers, sometimes it's better to go with an experienced gallery, an established track record, and a long term game plan than it is to go with delusions of grandeur, mirages of prosperity, or the flavor of the day-- especially if the flavor of the day is lording their press and popularity over you. FYI, it's not all that unusual for these fashion-plate newbies to be huge one month and extinct the next. In this business, staying power trumps chic approximately 100 percent of the time, so be careful about gambling on glamour or the vogue of the moment.

Now let's say you interview with a gallery owner you've just recently met or been introduced to, hear all the right stuff, the prognosis seems sweet, and you're ready to sign on. Here's where an art dealer from hell can get oppressive really fast, particularly with respect to what might be required of you in terms of art and obligations. For example, if showing with the gallery involves you having to sign agreements making them your sole and exclusive agents or representatives over large geographical areas, like either statewide, nationally or internationally-- or over extended periods of time, say longer than a year or so-- even though they have absolutely no experience selling your art and your business relationship is entirely untested (sound familiar?), you better get wary fast. A surefire deal squelcher would be if you're asked to either terminate all of your existing relationships with other galleries or to pay the new gallery a percentage of any works of art that your other galleries sell (it happens; believe it). These levels of draconian control should never be tolerated, no matter how badly you want to get involved with any new gallery. Being forced to sever established working relationships before having any idea of whether the new gallery can successfully sell your art is tantamount to artistic suicide. If things don't work out the way you hope they will, officially consider yourself screwed. Not only will you have burned all your bridges, but even worse, you may also end up having to go legal or buy your way out of suffocating contractual obligations.

Speaking of draconian controls, watch out for galleries that are secretive or refuse to communicate their intentions or business practices with respect to how they intend to represent or sell your art or pay you when they sell it, and instead insist on totally dictating and dominating the relationship. Warning signs include pretending not to know or refusing to tell you who buys your art, not telling you in a timely manner when your art gets sold, being vague about when you'll get paid, preventing you from meeting your collectors, or otherwise deliberately keeping you out of the loop. Some dealers actually treat their artists like children, like they don't understand, and subjugate them to positions of stupidity-- convincing them that they have no control, that the dealer always knows best. These manipulative nitwits are pure poison, and the instant things start moving in this direction, get to work on your exit strategy.

Returning to contracts for one brief moment, and without going into tedious detail (because that's a whole separate article), here's the deal-- you absolutely positively need some kind of formal agreement, a piece of paper you can hold in your hand. It's that simple and no more complicated. No matter how charming, well healed, delightful, persuasive, reassuring or important a gallery owner appears to be, a casual handshake is never enough unless, of course, you're OK with risking whatever art you have on consignment as well as any prospects of getting paid any outstanding balance on sales if, for any reason, the relationship goes bad. In fact, a dealer's reluctance or refusal to draw up a contract is almost always a warning sign of a fair weather flake, and of sorry times to come.

As far as getting documentation from a gallery on what's been consigned, it's just like the contract. Either you get it in writing or your walk. Beware when a dealer inexplicably gets casual or tells you not to worry and that everything's going to be OK. Careless, airhead or nonexistent record keeping ends up ugly approximately 100 percent of the time, and is a great way for a lame-o dealer to victimize an artist. Rest assured that if a gallery plays loose or has a laid back approach to the way they do business that, sooner or later, you'll be maimed by mind lapses about how much of your art they have on consignment, what they've sold, whether you've been paid, how much they owe you, and so on. Especially watch out when a gallery is selectively clueless-- like they're extremely on top of their overall business, but when you ask for any sort of accounting about your art, they come down with instant amnesia.

Regarding selling prices, lethal dealers often seduce artists into coming onboard by promising to bump their art values on up into the ozone (with no experience selling it, of course, and no idea whether they actually can-- sound familiar?). While all this tall talk seems great in theory, it's dangerously shortsighted, greedy, mainly in the dealer's interests and rarely in those of the artist, particularly over time. An artist's prices have to rise in a deliberate and orderly manner, commensurate with that artist's accomplishments; no dealer can arbitrarily inflate an artist's prices before their time, and especially before career accomplishments warrant it. Artists whose prices rise too high, too fast and too often, frequently end up outstripping their collectors' appetites for risk, and pricing themselves right out of the game. And if an artist whose prices are constantly at the absolute top of the market happens to stumble or have a soft show, the consequent fallout can be significant. At worst, it's almost like having to start over; most galleries will be reluctant to show you because your prices have gotten way ahead of what they can sell your art for. Remember-- big price promises often come with big potential downsides so watch out when someone claims they can make you rich and famous for no rational reason.

OK. The time has arrived to broach the bottom line-- getting paid when a gallery sells your art. Hopefully, you and your gallery have agreed on when and how payment is to be made, and you both have it in writing. If you don't, then kindly accept my condolences. Now seeing as the art business has always been tough, and it's even tougher these days, getting paid can sometimes be challenging. Worse yet, getting paid by duplicitous dealers who could care less about you can really be challenging, and since this article all about them, let's talk warning signs, so you can diagnose a bad situation before it's too late, hopefully recoup as much as art and money possible, and then get out.

Dealers commonly stop paying artists because their galleries run into financial problems. Reputable ones will approach their artists, tell them what's happening and try to work through difficult situations; less reputable ones have no qualms about taking whatever they can get before the ship sinks. So a really good idea is to monitor your gallery's financial health, and a great way to do that is to keep tabs on the consistency of their expenditures. If they start cutting back, this could mean they're running low on funds, and if that's the case, consider yourself on notice that getting paid for your art-- or even getting consigned art returned to you-- have the potential to become increasingly difficult. For example, let's say a gallery agrees to give you a show and they're totally supportive of your work, but when show time rolls around, they balk at doing what's necessary to present it at its best-- like suddenly they won't even pay for the hardware to hang it. Uh oh. When a dealer's agenda appears to be changing from making money to just staying afloat, the time has come for the two of you to either talk it out or if for some reason that's not an option and the dealer refuses, to start planning your escape route.

Whether a dealer is having financial difficulties or not, continual excuses about why they can't pay you also fall into the seriously bad omen category, especially when the tall tales have nothing to do with your art. Like maybe their "investments" are tied up, or they promise that you'll get yours as soon as the second mortgage is finalized or the yacht sells or the lawsuit settles. "Not right now... I can't cut the check just yet... but soon... the deal's almost closed." The really major league dorks add insult to injury by framing their delay tactics like they have all this big buck stuff going on-- all way bigger than you-- and that when the cash comes through, you'll get your little pittance. Right... dickhead.

Yeah, I'm with you. This stuff sure isn't pretty, but it's pretty necessary from a prevention perspective-- identifying the warning signs and knowing when to get out before it's too late, or better yet, knowing when not to get involved in the first place. The sad news is that this is only the first of a two-part (maybe even three-part) diatribe so stay tuned, and in the meantime, make sure you cover your ass.

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I'd like to thank Wendy E. Cooper, Mat Gleason, Barry Gross and Alex Novak for their generous assistance with this article.