That's neither here nor there, idle dreams and such for days when you laze around thinking of the ideal world. Where the money is for me is at the other end of the equation - working for those types who want Art to hang on the walls (hey that reminds me of an old joke: What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs who hangs on walls? Art. Kills me every time) of their corporate offices and that goes with the décor, but doesn't look like it's been chosen to go with the décor.
Now that's a trick, son, because you've got to make sure it blends nicely with their carpets, the window treatments, and the paint job, but at the same time be distinctive enough to show that they have taste. The higher up the corporate ladder, the trickier it gets I tell you.
Your junior executive just wants something to cover the blank spaces on his walls. He or she can't afford to be too ostentatious or adventurous, either financially or in terms of style. They don’t want to stand out as being daring or anything like that, ‘cause they need to blend in and give the appearance of at least being just like everyone else.
With those types you usually do a brisk trade in the standard, safe abstractions from the past century or so. Nothing too outrageous, like a Warhol or a Pollack for them, maybe a Chagall or Matisse reproduction. The more daring might go for something a little more modern, like a Harold Town print from the fifties, but that's going to be it.
By the time they’ve reached the top of the corporate world, and instead of blending in, they feel the need to distinguish themselves, to show they have character and individuality. Now you might be able to sell something new. They love to be able to say things like, "Oh this is a painter I discovered. Quite unusual I agree, but I like the challenge of the piece," or some equally meaningless self-satisfying words that show off how perceptive and artistic they are.
My job is really sort of like a pimp. Instead of finding them a whore to flatter their egos, I find them paintings that do the equivalent for their intellect. I give them the appearance of having a sense of the aesthetic, even if they have a soul made out of stocks and bonds.
You'd think after all the effort I put in for the artists in finding people who might actually be interested in their pieces of post-modern modern abstractions — or what ever they feel like calling their feeble attempts these days — and the energy I expand on my corporate clients to make sure that paintings I obtain for them fit into their niche properly, that some sort of gratitude would be forthcoming, but no. At best I'm looked at as a necessary evil by the artists, and some sort of minor functionary who doesn't rank much higher than an interior designer by my clients.







Article comments
1 - Nancy
Psst...do you know where I could find an original Grant Wood or Edward Hopper? How 'bout a second-hand Wyeth, of any generation? If so, call me.