The Beau Geste (Part 3 of 12)
The Art World
I think of the phrase “The Art World” as I do worlds in distant galaxies. If I’m related to them at all, it’s only in some existential way. Generally, that term relates to the million and multi-million-dollar work sold at Christies or Sotheby’s, or some of the big art fairs like Art Basel in Switzerland, Miami and Hong Kong. It’s exciting to read about celebrities flying into these events and setting new purchase records for an artist’s work, but that happens in the world of the 1% or the ½%. Diemen Hirst bisected a mother cow and her calf, encased them in a giant aquarium filled with formaldehyde, and sold that work of art for twenty million dollars. Nice work if you can get it. Now he’s painting polka dots. Genius! My mother may have been right when she said, “Money doesn’t care who has it.” People of extensive means must have their own reasons for lining up to buy his work. Most of us, however, live in a world of somewhat more modest means and within that world there are galleries that are local Mom and Pop shops all the way up to the gallery on 57th street in New York who look you up and down before allowing you the privilege to come in and purchase. Somewhere within those extremes are the clear majority of artists and art galleries. That’s the world I live in and from which these experiences I’m sharing with you are drawn. So, let us deal with that reality.
Christie’s Auction House in New York just broke all records for the sale of a painting: $450.3 million dollars for a Da Vinci depiction of Christ. It is all relative. Diemen Hirst’s twenty million for his bisected cows looks meager by comparison. When I had to borrow fifty dollars for gas money to hang my show at Heinz Hall, the ten thousand dollars I made seemed like all of the money in the world.
Hurricane Survival
Even within my range of collectors, there are extremes. I have had a librarian make a small purchase on time payments spread out for a full year. I have another collector with a 200 plus-foot yacht, a private trans-Atlantic jet and, as you might imagine, several magnificent homes. One of their homes was in Palm Beach, Florida. Built in the 1920’s, they had recently purchased it and had just finished the landscaping when, in 2004, Hurricane Francis hit and turned their lights off and rather rudely removed their new landscaping. We watched the devastation of this storm on the news channels from the safety of our home high atop a mountain ridge in West Virginia.
The Mrs. had a personal assistant, and no one got to the Mrs. except through her. Fortunately, we liked her, and she liked us. Hearing about the devastation, we went to work assembling two Hurricane Survival Kits; one for the Mr. and Mrs., and one for the personal assistant. In each “kit” we included two flashlights, one large and one small with batteries sized for both, candles and matches, a wine opener, two bottles of wine, one white, one red and our signature monogramed wine glasses. We included crackers and an imported cheese to enjoy with the wine. We also included gourmet jellybeans, chocolates, and other assorted treats from The Greenbrier’s gourmet shop. Everything necessary to weather a storm. I thought of including a Trojan condom just for laughs, but then thought better of it. Not everyone shares my sense of humor. We sent the packages off in beautiful shrink-wrapped baskets. The next hurricane would not catch them unprepared.
My wife is the middle child of nine siblings. When there is severe weather that affects our area of Florida, and it makes the evening news, our phone begins to ring. One by one, her family checks in to see that we weathered the storm alright and that we are okay. That’s what family does. When it is appropriate, we like to treat our clients like family and let them know that they are in our thoughts, because they always are.
A few months later, after all returned to normal, and the landscaping had been replaced, they asked us to come down with a trailer of artwork. Would they have called us anyway? Maybe. I’d certainly like to think so. Still, I maintain that everyone likes to know that they are held in high regard and it behooves us to find ways to tip our hats to them. This visit to their home ended in just one of many six figure sales to these clients.
This same couple owned several paintings by Russian artists and the paintings coming out of Russia were often compromised in the materials available to the artist. Some were on unprimed canvas because primer was unavailable to them. Some lacked a final varnish, leaving the finish dull, uneven and unprotected. I looked up to notice one such canvas badly buckled. After deciding on their selections and making their purchases, the clients had run off to keep an appointment and we were left with their assistant to pack up. I mentioned to her that, if she approved, I could re-stretch that badly buckled canvas while I was there. When I traveled to client’s homes, I brought with me an array of tools to address any possible eventuality. The hard part was getting it off the wall. It hung in place high above a glass china cabinet containing expensive collector crystal pieces, in a room with fourteen-foot ceilings. I positioned my eight-foot ladder off to the side and reached over to my full extent to maneuver the painting from its hook, as my wife looked on and prayed. I was on tip toe – really reaching. It had me on edge because if I fell or if I dropped the painting on that cabinet, well, all the oxygen on earth would dissolve and all life would end right there and then…and I would have caused it.
Since we are all still alive and breathing, we know that that didn’t come to pass, and the difference in the appearance of the painting was like night and day. The secretary said, “Of course you will present us with a bill.” I responded with, “Of course I wouldn’t dream of it.” I did this same thing for them again at another of their residences. This time I took the painting with me and, owing to its size, re-stretched it onto heavy duty stretcher bars, put a conservator’s varnish on it and re-hung it. They never realized how beautiful their Russian painting was until they saw it the way the artist had intended it. I even mounted a picture light on the frame for them. Oh, what a difference. I did this because I was capable and because it showed that my concern for their wellbeing didn’t stop when the check was signed. People tend to remember these things.
I realize that many, if not most galleries, don’t extend themselves this far. If, however, we’re not cultivating our client relationships, we are most likely limiting our income in ways in which we are not aware.
The Beau Geste is so much more than a simple tip of the hat, although a tip of the hat can be enough sometimes and is certainly better than not tipping your hat at all. It shows that we listened to the other; sometimes hearing their words and sometimes hearing the meaning between the lines. It incorporates timing, sensitivity and knowledge of the one to whom we are extending the gesture.
A $245 bottle of Dom Perignon, beautifully boxed and accompanied by a set of Baccarat crystal champagne flutes can be a beautiful gift, except when given to someone who, the night before at dinner, spent fifteen minutes describing his decision to enter Alcoholics Anonymous two weeks earlier. Ya gotta pay attention!
It was great fun calling the personal assistant of our Palm Beach clients and subverting her in my plan to send flowers to her boss. I had another occasion in which I wanted to pay my compliments in a way that would get her attention and be meaningful to her. The personal assistant embraced the spirit of the game and told me her boss’s favorite flowers; a combination of white lilies and Oceana roses. She even referred me to the florist she liked to use. It was a very excited Mrs. who called me wanting to know how I knew this was her favorite floral arrangement. I had simply taken the time to find out because she was obviously important enough to warrant the effort. Obviously.
