Things I’m learning in Artworld.
An artist friend shared her donation policy with me. I retyped it to apply to me.
It has worked for my friend, but not one single organization has ever taken me up on this. However, the requests have certainly tapered off since adopting this policy.
In case you are wondering if I am a complete curmudgeon, let it be known that I do donate occasionally, simply because I want to support a particular organization or two. 
These are thoughts first published on my blog on November 13, 2013
1. Some of those “beg-athon” events are really fun for the community and anticipated with happiness.
2. I’m not the only artist who is worn out from being asked to give away my work.
3. Artists can request that bidding begin at a minimum price, which will help them maintain some dignity and their work to retain its value.
4. Should other donors be paid for their contributions, such as hair salons, motels, restaurants, retail stores?
5. Does donating help their businesses?
6. Are they able to write off anything on their taxes?
7. Are they tired of being asked too?
8. Is there another way to raise money for good causes instead of through donations and auctions?
9. Is it possible for the non-profit to say “We’ll pass on that donation because it doesn’t represent you well and it won’t bring in money for us”?
10. Some members of the public sincerely anticipate a piece of art from their favorite artists, and it causes them to want to participate in the auctions.
Tomorrow I will share a letter from an artist friend that she sends to organizations that request donations.
P.S. Here are some photos from Saturday’s bazaar. It was a very good day!
This is a reprint from November 6, 2013. Clearly the subject of donations is large in my thoughts during November.
When non-profits want to raise funds, they hold dinners or tastings and have silent and live auctions to go with these events (called “Annual Beg-athons” by author Matt Gleason in the Huffington Post on 6/8/11). Typically, the first people they contact to donate items to their causes are artists.
Why artists? Why not dentists, lawyers, gas stations, pharmacists??
There was a year that I donated more than I sold. (Hmmm, someone might possibly benefit from a business manager here. . .) The next year, I began reading what other artists had to say about the matter, and as a result, I developed my own list of reasons for artists to not donate and a few for them to continue donating.
REASONS TO NOT DONATE:
1. An artist is only allowed to write off the cost of the materials.
2. Donating depletes inventory that is usually made by hand, involving enormous amounts of time.
3. Art work at these events usually sells for less than its full value.
4. If an artist develops a reputation for giving away work, those who previously have paid full price feel ripped off.
5. If an artist develops a reputation for giving away work, the buying public may begin waiting for the events instead of spending money with the artist.
6. If an artist gets tired of donating, she may begin donating second-rate work and damage her reputation. An artist friend once told me, “Just give them your bad stuff that won’t sell anyway.” Yikes, is that what is happening?? That’s not good for the organization, the artist’s reputation or the recipient!
REASONS TO DONATE (and some are pretty poor reasons):
1. An artist loves the cause and want to help.
2. An artist wants to reduce inventory.
3. An artist wants exposure (which is a myth in terms of building a business.)
4. An artist feels guilty and wants to “give back”. (What did he take in the first place??)
If you are part of a non-profit, you might rethink this common idea that artists are the best ones to approach for donations.
Here is an idea for non-profits: Ask to buy the work. The artist can sell it to you at a discount, you can write off what your organization spends, and you can begin the bidding at that price. Anything you receive above that will be profit for you, and none of the Reasons To Not Donate will happen.
Finally, here is a letter I’ve borrowed from New York Times writer Tim Kreider on the subject:
“Thanks very much for your compliments on my art. I’m flattered by your invitation to donate a painting or drawing or print or package of cards or to paint a mural. But art is work, it takes time, it’s how I make my living, and I can’t afford to do it for free. I’m sorry to decline, but thanks again, sincerely, for your kind words about my work.”
Somewhere recently I heard that it is a “subscription economy” we are in now, rather than a “membership economy”.
Several of the computer programs I use no longer just sell the program. Instead, they sell a subscription that is either paid monthly or yearly. So, I bought outdated versions, because my internet service isn’t dependable enough. I need the thing to be on my computer, not out there on the World Wide Web. And, I don’t need any more monthly expenses.
Then I got thinking about memberships to stores: I quit Costco because it bothered me to pay to shop (and a couple of other reasons.) But, I joined Amazon Prime for free shipping, because I don’t have to drive down the hill using up gas and time and adding miles to my car.
Lots of free internet services offer premium versions and upgrades. I don’t pay for the premium version of this blog platform because this one works. It already costs me about $500 a year to pay someone to keep it up to date.
I don’t pay for an upgraded version of LinkedIn. I enjoy reading their articles and finding links to good articles online but it isn’t a great use of my time.
Someone far wiser than I (Greg McKeown, author of Essentialism and The Disciplined Pursuit of Less) suggests that when you have to decide whether or not to pay for something that used to be free, think about it this way: “What would I pay to get this if I didn’t have it?”
The business of art requires continual decisions. Choices and consequences, choices and consequences.
Have you heard that we are now living in a “membership economy”? When I read articles and opinion pieces about marketing, particularly marketing online, this idea of membership is promoted regularly.
Before I knew we were in this new “era” (fad, trend, phase, something. . .), I struggled with all the requests to join various organizations.
3 different historical societies, 2 library organizations, 5 art groups, 2 chambers of commerce, and at least 2 more groups that I don’t know how to classify want my money every year. If every organization charged $25 per year, I’d be out $350 a year and buried in newsletters and little cards to put in my wallet. Oh, and there are the stickers they send for your car window and the magnets for your refrigerator.
I do belong to the Auto Club (my car is 20 years old with 208,000 210,000miles on it – how is that possible??) and to a few of the aforementioned groups because sometimes it is the only way to be able to participate in various art shows without paying an additional fee.
I’ve puzzled over how to create a membership to my fan club. (Wait – I am supposed to call the participants “collectors”? Hmmm, first I need fans, then I need to form a club, then figure out what they get for joining, design tchotchkes to persuade everyone it is worth the fee, figure out some sort of discount or other enticement to let members feel special, and finally, figure out some sort of internet dealiemabob so that it is automated.
Nah. I’m busy. Gotta keep shredding those membership requests so the bad guys don’t join in my name.
While I painted recently, I listened to music (Selah is the name of the group), fought off Samson and thought about things.
In Gretchen Rubin’s Four Tendencies, I am without a doubt a Questioner. As a result, most of my thoughts end up as unanswered questions. If an answer arrives, another 2 or 3 or 15 questions pop back up.
And, here is a bonus question:
Please forgive the silence on the blog. I am working on a project that requires focus. The customer is away for awhile so I haven’t been given permission to tell about the project.
Samson can keep you company while I work.
A friend said he disagrees with the idea that California is land of fruits and nuts. He said it is more like a bowl of granola: fruits, nuts and flakes.
I wonder why there is a correlation between flakes and artists. Artists have often been called flaky, and I work very diligently to blast that stereotype from my profession.
In my experience, it is contractors who are flaky. When I find a builder or a repairman who returns calls, shows up on time and actually calls when he cannot make it, I rejoice and spread the word. They are rare birds.
And here is a not so rare bird.
Hey, Rabbi Google (as we were taught to call it while in Israel), these are oil paintings – an orange, pomegranates, and a California quail.
I have 3 nephews. 2 of them are “creatives”, one an accomplished graphic artist supporting a wife and 2 children, and the other about to start his junior year in college as a music major. Might be performing arts, might be music theory. . . can’t remember exactly and embarrassed by asking him too often.
Music Nephew and I have been having an email conversation about “the arts”, and he mentioned how a musician friend of his gets in the way of his own success. I responded with something that I think you might enjoy, Oh Blog Readers (all 4 of you or so. . . maybe 6 or 7, but I still don’t know how to access or read the blog stats).
Most of us trying to make it in the arts are usually in the way of our own success. I’m gradually learning to redefine success. I know I don’t want to spend hours and hours on social media trying to build up a following, so I’m not – that’s success. I’d rather have real people that I know just happily following my blog and thinking of me when they have an art need – they do, so that’s success. I also don’t want to do the crazy hard work of building up a body of work that might appeal to galleries, which I’m not, so that’s success.
My life’s work is to discover and display the good things of Tulare County, a place I love to hate and hate to love. Sigh. Thus, the mixed ideas about success – I am portraying this place, but sometimes I want to live somewhere with a less hostile climate, cleaner air, and richer more educated populace.
If you made it to the end of this bloviation, you deserve a reward. Here, have a look at a successful pencil drawing of a bridge.
Sometimes people think artists are weird.
I think everyone is normal until I get to know them.
I did a mental inventory of all the chairs in my house. (Is this weird? Never mind. Don’t answer that question.) As I moved from room to room, I realized that EVERY SINGLE CHAIR IN MY HOUSE is a salvage, a second-hand, a “sure, I’ll take that”.
A few weeks ago, Trail Guy and I were at a dump. (None of your beeswax, but thanks for your concern.) I saw a chair, and knew it was meant for me.
It was a mess, but a classic shape, sturdy frame, and just what our green room needs. The green room is a little empty, and I’ve been thinking about what might be good in there. This chair is just what I had envisioned.
I chose fabric that I thought would suit the chair (a vague blurry bit of it is in the foreground of the photo above) and took a few photos of the chair.
When my favorite upholsterers received the photos, this was the response: “This is a 1950 vintage chair. very popular because of the great lines and comfort. We can repair the back leg or replace. With a new cushion you will have a beautiful chair.”
How beautiful? I almost choked when he named the price.
The senior upholsterer said that when it is finished, it would be worth $1200! I told him I couldn’t afford a chair of that quality or value. Remember, I find my chairs in the dump! (or yard sales,other people’s garages or thrift shops)
I thought about taking the chair back home again, but realized I’d have to unload it. Then I’d think about it for awhile, adjust to the price, make arrangements to load it and take it back to Visalia.
It is a mess, but can’t you see the possibilities here?
Weird? Or resourceful?
It is so satisfying to find something of potential value, to salvage and repair, to find completely unique things, to own items with a story, to enjoy things that are lasting, timeless, and classic.
The upholsterer said it would last 25 years. I thought, “IT HAD BETTER!!”
Uh, does anyone want to buy a coloring book? One hundred coloring books? Or how about an oil painting? A really large oil painting, perhaps?
I’m in a show soon at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter. Bring your checkbook.