The Beau Geste (Part 2 of 12)
This gentleman wasn’t kind to strangers because he wanted something from them. The Beaux Geste attitude simply flowed out of him from his kindly nature. Remember that my Guru, Harvey, told me that, “It’s not what you do, it’s where your head is at when you do it.” If we connive to extend kindnesses and favors only to influence a gain for ourselves, we will likely fool no one and will be disappointed with the outcomes. However, if we feel a genuine sense of gratitude and express it in a way that takes into consideration the interests of the other, then our work is done, and we have no further expectations. No expectations – no disappointments.
Consider the mass pre-printed Christmas cards we all receive every year from our insurance agents. It’s a gesture, but not a very significant one. It’s not a real Beaux Geste because it’s by rote and lacks any genuine concern for us. Sometimes we receive a calendar with the insurance company’s name printed on every page; advertising we get to look at 365 days a year. My guess is that very few of us feel any genuine sense of endearment in response to these feeble and insincere attempts at a Beau Geste.
The Beau Geste is so much more than a simple “tip of the hat” or “Thank You.” It is an acknowledgement that truly reflects the esteem with which we hold someone. It says, “You are important,” so important, in fact, that you and your concerns, preferences and designs matter to me. The Italian restaurant owner wasn’t thanking us for anything we had done for him when he helped us locate the laundromat. We did nothing to earn his generosity. The Beau Geste is interwoven with kindheartedness, thoughtfulness, generosity…as well as gratitude.
Joseph Duveen, the greatest art dealer in history, was a genius at the art of the Beau Geste. His clients were tremendously wealthy men, literally the wealthiest in the world. But sometimes even they could not secure a ticket on the Queen Mary if it was sold out. If Duveen were to catch wind of their disappointment, somehow, magically, the tickets would appear. When you are selling tens of millions of dollars of art to a collector during the Great Depression, which by today’s standards is almost incalculable, do you care if you spend $100,000 to secure a $636.00 ticket…or half a million for five tickets for the family? It may seem obscene, but to Duveen it was mere chump change in the larger scheme of his business empire. His aim was to always keep his collectors coming only to him for art… or anything else. Need to up level your silver service? See Duveen. Need an architect to design your new home? Duveen will bring one over from England and will design a home with plenty of wall space for more paintings…and a place for the silver.
One shouldn’t be intimidated by the scale of these massive gestures. The principles are as sound for a simple tipping of the hat…or the making of change for a laundromat. If we pay attention to our clients and treat them like Duveen treated his clients, we’ll know that we are playing the hand we were dealt to its maximum advantage. It was Duveen’s world view, and his belief of his place in it, that made him a force of nature. He would have been the best in the world at selling boats, or diamonds or used hammers.
Bounty
A couple vacationing at The Greenbrier bought one of my paintings, and they invited me to join them for dinner in The Tavern Room, the hotel’s most stellar and most expensive five-star restaurant. The wife introduced me that evening to her favorite wine – Puligny-Montrachet. Over the course of dinner, I noticed an unusual characteristic about my host: he would frequently finish my sentences a millisecond before I did, and in very specific ways. For example, if I were telling a story in which I came to a T in the road and turned left, he would say “…and turned left,” just a split second before I did. I might have said, “And came to a complete stop.” Or, “Backed up,” or “turned right,” or “My car died. “It was that kind of thing going on all night. Or I might be talking about my mother, and “Edith,” came out of his mouth before it came out of mine. When I asked him how long he’d been aware that he was psychic, he just threw his head back and laughed a hardy belly laugh at the suggestion…not answering my question.
This odd little quirk isn’t directly relevant to this story except that it got me to zero in on him with increased interest as he spoke. He voiced a small complaint; he wished that The Greenbrier provided Bounty paper towels in the bathrooms. He also wished they provided Irish Spring bath soap. I understood his preference for Bounty because that’s the brand I use in my studio, but I had no idea why he wanted any brand of paper towel in his bathroom. I would later find out, but for just now it didn’t matter. What mattered…the only thing that mattered… was that he desired these items. And just like the wealthy clients of Joseph Duveen, he certainly could have easily afforded them. Just a call to the concierge would have produced these items, but for now, over dinner, he’d rather just mention it and wish it were different. It was, after all, a small unrequited preference.
To me, no concern of my clients is small. First thing the next morning, I waited for the local grocery store to open and bought a twin pack of Bounty paper towels and a three pack of Irish Spring. I added some items from The Greenbrier’s gourmet shop to the mix along with a box of note cards with my paintings featured on them. I wrapped everything in fancy tissue paper and added a personal note of thanks for dinner and had the bellman deliver it to their room. I wanted these items to arrive as early as possible so that he’d have the use of them throughout the whole day. Okay, it wasn’t trans-Atlantic tickets on the Queen Mary, but it didn’t have to be because that’s not what he wanted. He wanted Bounty and Irish Spring, and being local, I was in a position to accommodate.
This small gesture brought them back into my gallery the following day where they made an additional purchase; a double paneled, six-and-a-half-foot screen that I had painted of The Greenbrier swans. The canvases had been set in a custom carved black walnut floor stand, and it was altogether large, heavy and expensive. I delivered it, along with the other painting they had purchased, to their home in Virginia. The gentleman psychic brought me into his office to write the check. His home office was massive, befitting his country estate. He sat behind an immense, beautifully carved desk with a hand-tooled leather top. On a wall, nearby was a framed photograph of his father; a U.S. Marine General. Six pencils lay out, all perfectly sharpened to fine points and all lined up with the erasers in a perfectly even line. Nothing out of place or askew. Everything set at right angles. Neat as a pin. Military precision. I stood next to him and watched as he wrote out the check. When he had written in the amount, and was just about to draw a line over to the /00 on the right-hand side of the check, he hesitated, considered for a moment and then opened his desk drawer, removed a ruler, spent a few seconds aligning it to be perfectly parallel to the printed line on the check, and then carefully drew the line…evidence of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder Complex. Now the Bounty paper towels made sense. Everything had to remain just as it appeared when he entered the room for the first time. No water drops. Everything sparkling. The Irish Spring? Well, I guess he just favored it.
When I arrived at their house to make the delivery, I brought one of my legendary gift baskets. Among other goodies, it contained a bottle of Puligny-Montrachet. I know I’m not the only guy to do these types of things. I certainly didn’t invent the Beau Geste, but I must wonder, for all the other art this couple have purchased over their lifetime, how many other artists…or galleries thanked them in so personal a way? My guess is not too many. My wife was the director of a gallery in Aspen, Colorado that carried sixty-five artists. In telling the story of how we met, she often mentions that I was the only one that ever sent a physical “thank you” acknowledgement for her efforts. She adds that there was one artist that said he was going to send her a bottle of wine in appreciation for her services, but never did. At least the other sixty-three artists didn’t raise her expectations and then disappoint. In writing this, it just now occurred to me that my propensity for acknowledging appreciation for what others do for me has led to my marriage. I guess those other sixty-four artists never knew the potentialities of what might have been. Lucky for me.
As I up-leveled my game, I bought a shrink wrap device, a box of straw fill and some beautiful hand-woven baskets to make ever more outstanding and attention getting “thank-you’ s.” I ordered several sizes of plain cardboard boxes and wine mailers. I also ordered large wine glasses on which I had my signature etched and when I sent wine, I included the glasses…and a monogramed corkscrew in a velvet draw string pouch. Once shrunk-wrapped, I would box the basket and then pack and double box it to assure that the glasses would arrive intact.
My collectors were thrilled when they unboxed a fine wine to find that I had removed the label and replaced it with a custom one which featured the painting they had just purchased, and their name on the label. Sometimes we would visit their homes, even years later, to find the bottles prominently displayed. And just because I’m asked this question so frequently…about half of the bottles were left untouched and half were empty… still on display. Just knowing how surprised they’d be when they opened their gift made it a pleasure for us to go through the various steps in producing it for them.
You will recall from the story told in the Preface that this gesture led our Birmingham collector to invite us to his home where he purchased an additional six paintings. My friend Harvey, who consistently placed in the top ten of ten-thousand agents for State Farm, offered this explanation of the difference between successful people and ordinary people. It is this:
Successful people do the things that ordinary people aren’t willing to do.
