Discovering the Picker’s barns…after visiting Marcel Gosselin [last issue- http://tinyurl.com/7g4oxnk CP ] we went on to a large picker’s barn we had noticed on the way into Victoriaville which is where we met Jean (Kojak) Deshaies. As we arrived, the place was buzzing with activity as several pickers clamored for the attention of a completely bald man; pointing at, and demanding prices of items still being unloaded from his pickup truck. Not being used to this type of “pressure” buying we went inside and started to peruse the rows of furniture and items there.
Nothing was priced. We made note of several things of interest, and waited.
After several minutes the bald man came in and approached us introducing himself in a distinctive, low raspy voice as Kojak, and started simply “how can I help you?”. I was slightly taken aback by the intensity of his voice, abrupt manner, powerful short build, and the fact that he had absolutely no facial hair including eyebrows. He seemed….slightly hostile. We explained that we were dealers from Ontario, and that this was our first trip to Quebec. He immediately broke into a big smile and grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake, and after introductions asked us what we found interesting. As we pointed out several pieces of early furniture, rugs, carvings, etc., he would offer a short description and then bark out the prices. As we said yes to an item, a young helper would grab the piece and haul it off to a place by the entrance where he started to make a pile. Kojak wrote the prices on a piece of scrap paper. He warmed with every item chosen and before long would sometimes follow the price quoted with a second lower price he called “prix d’ami” or “friend’s price”.
After awhile I noticed the large pile we had accumulated. I expressed my concern that I might not have enough cash for everything, but he said not to worry because a cheque would be fine. I was surprised at this sign of trust but he joked that he knew I would be back, and besides if the cheque was not good he would soon be at my door to collect, and I wouldn’t want that to happen.
He told us that he and a few of the other local dealers were just back from New York City where they had marched unannounced into the office of a downtown lawyer who had bought several items in the area with bad cheques, and had not answered their calls. “We just walked into his office, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and told him we wanted our stuff back. We didn’t have to do more. He took us right to the warehouse. We were back home ten hours later.”If you had trouble covering a cheque it was fine as longs as you were up front about it, and made it right. No problem.”
Getting all of the stuff we bought into the truck was another thing but we managed. For the Silo, Phil Ross. Visit Phil’s blog at www.shadflyguy.com
This concern, of course, is not unique and strikes at the heart of something that all those in creative professions fear and must face. The ownership of ideas is difficult to prove. If you tell someone your plan in confidence and they, in turn, use it for their own purposes, there is very little you can do to show that you are the originator. Spreading this rumor is likely to make you look like the bad guy. It’s no wonder that this sort of generosity is cause for concern.
But what about sharing your networks or some trade secrets that helped you get to where you are today? While you may have worked tooth and nail for everything you’ve gained, there were surely people along the way who said yes at the right moment and assisted your progress. No one can ask more than this, and as an artist of a certain standing, there is nothing wrong with offering this sort of help.
No one exists in a vacuum. Even you, who may have scraped and fought your way to where you are today, benefited from the acceptance and help of others. Sure, you may have pounded the pavement endlessly in order to secure your position but that is no reason not to pay forward the success you have achieved. It is too easy to forget, once you have achieved a certain status, the myriad small moments that led you there. While it may seem as though hardly anyone was out to help you in the early days, surely there were some, otherwise you could not be where you are today. Even if it was just a few gallerists who were finally willing to take a chance, there are always rungs of assistance in the ladder to every success, no matter how small.
For these reasons, there is a lot to be said for good old-fashioned face-to-face interaction. Being the sort of artist who is willing to mentor in the real world sets you apart. Establishing this sort of reputation, for being the one who will gladly share the bounty you have created, seldom reverses one’s own success and frequently opens new doors you may never have considered.
Arguably, there is no such thing as original art. Even some of the most contemporary artists’ work is derivative of past creations. Marina Abramovic, in her unique style, has absolutely drawn from (and occasionally been accused of copying) works by other artists. Pablo Picasso (and perhaps more famously, Steve Jobs who quoted him) said, “good artists copy, great artists steal.” This doesn’t mean that you should open yourself up to idea theft, but it does mean that perhaps being stingy with your concepts, your network, your position as an established artist, doesn’t count for as much security as you might think. Be smart about things, but in general, it is always a good idea to reach down the ladder and help those coming up behind you find the next rung. For the Silo, Brainard Carey.
This year’s exhibition is rooted in Alvin Toffler’s 1970 book, Future Shock. Toffler examined the idea of collective shock as a result of living during a time of extreme change. Spinning out from the ancient curse, “may you live in an era of change” this year’s biennale seeks to disrupt the notion that extreme change is outside the ordinary and instead posits that all of human existence has been based around rotating times of chaos and calm. Open call for the 2017 biennale ended in December, but for future events (the next is slated for 2019) artists are always welcome to contribute their work for consideration.
And in 2015 Saltwater: a theory of thought forms. The 2017 biennial is working in collaboration with the 2017 Istanbul film festival, both of which are exploring the title topic A Good Neighbor. In addition to the contemporary art program, the biennial will include ten feature and five short films all curated by Elmgreen and Dragset. The films (as well as the art) will look at the concept of home as a means of portraying identity and the intricacies of community and co-existence. The 2017 Istanbul Biennial runs from September 16-Novermber 12.
