12/3/2009 10:15:02 PM
Ten Reasons To Open (and then Close) an Artist-Owned Gallery During a Recession
 The Susan Pitcairn Gallery: March to Sept. 2010 The following article preceded opening my gallery in March 2009. By September 2009 when I had the opportunity to sell the space, I decided to close it. Part A is the original blog. Part B is the explanation of why I closed it! Enjoy! :) --- Susan
Part A: The Dream
A few weeks ago I would NEVER have imagined that, shortly after my 60th birthday, without previously planning it, I will soon open my own gallery. That's despite this economy, cautions from a number of friends, with falling values in real estate and the dollar, and hard times for artists and galleries.
It's not even the gallery district, nor a pedestrian area. But it's the growing part of Sedona. #3 art destination in the US according to a recent survey. It's a hot little new business condo in walking distance to our house, right next to one of the most popular restaurants in town, Picazzo's.
Hotels and resorts are sprouting up in nearby lots and a mixed-use development is approved next door. And so, after investing some inheritance money we'd planned to use paying off our mortgage,we will be taking on additional debt. But soon we will soon be the proud owners of a charming corner storefront with mountain views, suitable for a beautiful and special gallery space.
It's a place where all kinds of magical things might happen if we can but keep our minds and hearts clear and focussed. I hope to create something I've dreamed of, off and on, for years: a space where people can see beautiful art in a cohesive space, with poems, music and a comfortable place to sip a cup of tea and contemplate peace and beauty.
(And if it doesn't work out, I'm convinced that others would be happy to lease it for a price well above our costs to own it.)
How did this happen? A couple of weeks ago, I was scrunching away at my computer, buried in business, when my artist friend Lola dropped by for coffee and a pickup. I warned her that I felt SO overwhelmed I hardly had time to talk.
But Lola is understanding and kind, and before long I was taking a much-needed break from a mountain of business related mostly to the estate of my parents, who both died in the last year, including what to do with our investments, how to cope with this scary economy no one can predict....
As we talked on the patio, I shared that, really, I wished I could just focus on my art and realize my dream of having it, along with poems and music, displayed and shared in an inspiration space.
"Maybe we should just open a gallery. I know a space for rent," Lola said in a burst of enthusiasm.
At first that seemed crazy (who needs MORE business "to dos"?). But before I knew what had happened I said, "OK. Why don't we just take a drive and see what's out there?" (It really helps to have a partner in crime, doesn't it?)
Hours later I was considering the purchase of on a nearby office condo for sale in a prime highway signage location in the central business part of West Sedona. Most of Sedona's commercial real estate is owned by a handful of people and there are few opportunities to own a place at this price point. We met the realtor, one of that handful full of information about and confidence in the Sedona business scene, and he convinced us that it was a good deal. I talked it over that night with Richard and we decided to do it. We had to leave town the next day and someone else was interested, so we hastily signed papers, with the understanding we could back out within a few weeks.
Well, a week later we got home from our travels and I began doing my due diligence. I sobered up as considered it would mean:
- refinancing our house for an additional $130k at age 68 and 60 when we could have had it free and clear.
- bucking the tide when tons of galleries are closing and high-end longtime professional artists are in lean and scary times.
A Phoenix realtor advised against it, passionately.
Most artist friends said it's too risky and stressful, or wait til later.
My body sent out stress signals so strong I began to wonder if I was developing a fatal disease that would, if nothing else, lead this venture to disaster.
About the only one advising for it was a New Age friend who said "You gotta follow your dream!" Nice implication, that it will all work out if you follow your heart... But I do believe in thinking about big decisions rationally as well. So I thought it through, read articles, looked at comparables online and googled "art market recession."
After a day or so of this, my feet were getting so cold that not even the promise of fulfilling a longtime dream could knock my socks off at that point. So I made up a list of ten reasons to email to Lola and others as to why not to do it. Finally, I decided NOT to do it. And I felt relieved. I felt free. I felt grateful for a simple life of lesser accomplishments but more peace.
Finally, last night I called up the realtor to back out. He said "Let's talk it over in the morning, this could be a mistake, you will kick yourself for missing the chance." (Well, at least kicking myself might warm my feet back up.)
And then I got an email from an artist freind and mentor who is still successfully running her own gallery. She just had her best year ever, and she felt I could make it work. I began to feel peaceful inside, that either way was OK. Really, as some spiritual teachers say, it doesn't matter that much what goes on outwardly: it's the inner state that matters most.
The body settled down. I calmly read some more articles on the art and real estate world, and soon I found good and reasonable PROS for every CON I'd listed. And a few things to check out. This morning I did that, and what I found gave me the green light. I am back on board, in for the ride. We will close in late December.
And so here they are, for the curious, the skeptical, the consoling, the bemused, the envious and the pitying:
TEN REASONS TO OPEN AN ARTIST-OWNED GALLERY DURING A RECESSION:
1. As my dad liked to say, most fortunes have been made buying real estate in down times, using cash. It's a good price. And when the rest of some inheritance money comes in next year, I tell myself, it WILL be cash, and almost exactly the amount needed. The realtor presented convincing evidence that it's underpriced.
2. It's a better investment than a lot of what's out there now (US dollars? stocks? 1% interest rates? hmmm), and it can lead to an income stream. Some comparable artists I know have actually had their best years recently, so I can do well too if I play it right.
3.Some say a weak art market is good for an emerging artist gallery. That's because it's not profitable at first anyway, and then you'll be rising in reputation just when the buyers come back. My price point, quality and value are good and, really, I only need to sell three $400 pieces a month to make basic expenses.
Sedona is a good place for this also and will increasingly attract the wealthier retirees and foreign tourist who will see it as the art and travel Costco of the world if/as the US dollar declines in currency exchanges. Especially Asians, who already have discovered us.
4. It will most likely boost my creativity, skills and production. While I have worried that it may mean less freedom and even time to devote to painting, it could actually be a productive studio space: larger, brighter than home, without some of the distractions and temptations. Knowing my undisciplined and easily-distracted tendencies, maybe a schedule and a monthly sales goal are just what I need.
5. This particular situation may be perfect timing: Some say "Wait. You can always do it later." Well, maybe--- but I've lost momentum before when hesitating. And later on, prices for space may rise too high. The location is a spot that draws some wealthy clients for other businesses, Lola is a great comrad for this venture in many ways, this spot offers great signage, and the restaurant is a natural draw. Not to mention future potential as nearby developments resume.
6. It's most likely my best career builder.Yes, I could cultivate other outlets and go looking for galleries,etc. But it would never offer the same opportunity for the unique space I want, with poems next to my pieces, with my art-poetry books, with music. And no one has as much interest in getting my work out there as I do.
7. If things go south, there is a believable, workable backup plan. One concern at our ages (60, 68) is health problems. That could throw a monkey wrench in everything. And of course it may or may not work as a gallery, or I may just decide it's not worth doing one for whatever reason. Maybe I'd really rather go hiking.
Ok: we need a backup plan in case all hell breaks loose. Well, nothing in this world is totally secure, but today I got definitive proof that this is a desirable, leasable space (with profit), even in this market. Whew. That helps.
8. The location follows a formula for success. Though it is not a gallery district at this point, I read of others succeeding in a similar area near Aspen, getting in cheaper before it was fully developed.
9. You gotta follow your dream. Yes, my friend is right. And we don't always get a second chance. I have had a vison along these lines for a long time, a haven of artistic inspiration, poetry, music, reflection. There must be a higher force helping me out here. (And today I honestly felt like my mother was sitting in the car next to me, cheering me on joyfully. She agreed last summer to try to contact me after her death. Maybe that was real...
10. You will never know if you don't try!
DISCLAIMER: The above advice is not for everyone. Running an art gallery can be hazardous to health and finances (as is life). Nascent artist-gallery owners should consult their stockbrokers before taking chances. (They did SO much for your 401k, didn't they?) Follow the herd and hunker down. Do not try this at home. Do not turn off the television set. Do not take chances. If retirement is an option, consider!
Part B: The Reality
So here, a year + later, is my report on what happened. A good thing to read, fellow artists... and it may not apply to you.
The Grand Opening in mid-March was grand indeed. Lots of friends and supporters. It was beautiful, and we continued to have monthly openings through the spring, with poetry readings, food and friends. We had decent sales (though never at the openings).
We created a charming video for the local tourist channel.
The first six weeks or so Lola worked two days a week faithfully and helpfully, and Leon, a sculptor I took on, worked Saturdays or Sundays, each on straight commission (which ended up being nothing most days). Shortly after we opened, Lola and her husband were finally able to sell their home after years of trying. So they now had a big decision to make: stay or move closer to family. In the end they decided to move, and with regret for our project, she was gone by late May.
Staffing it 4 to 5 days a week was too much for me and so I paid a couple of people that I thought would be good at sales for brief tryouts: didn't work out.
In addition, I found it difficult to concentrate on producing art while minding the store. Too many interruptions, too much time consumed with administrative and marketing details on the computer, turning over shows, dealing with other artists and would-be artists in the gallery and a host of minor construction issues to deal with. One was simply the stuffy feeling inside, especially as the weather warmed and I had to close the door, which discouraged passersby from entering. Sitting at the front desk by the bank of dimmer switches (which emit high magnetic fields) probably didn't help. Then came the whopper.
In June we had a lovely opening for a show with the theme of "Canyons and Mountains." I read some poems as usual. One included a line about how life can suddenly come to an end. Without asking me, Leon decided to move one of his sculptures to a more frontal spot next to where I had this poem, "Life on the Edge," displayed. Two mornings later Sherry, a participating artist who was sitting the gallery that month, opened up to discover the poem had oddly fallen off the wall and its glass face lay in shards across the floor. Cleaning up, she sensed that Leon was angry... We did not know it until a call came the next day, but in fact, Leon had just been brutally murdered by a deranged roommate with extreme fundamentalist religious beliefs, apparently as a result of arguments over their differences (and, of course, his mental illness).
Needless to say, we were in shock and grief, especially the other sculptor in the gallery who was a lifelong friend of Leon's. The rest of the summer was not only slow, as is common for galleries in Sedona, but it was a challenging time of recovery, deciding what to do with Leon's remaining pieces, and a planned trip to see family. By late summer my health was beginning to suffer with various aches and pains that had been creeping up on me. I was so busy I'd not had time to go seek medical advice but finally I did. I was diagnosed with adrenal exhaustion, low thyroid, early fibromyalgia, ostopenia, cervical arthritis and stenoisis, and suspected diverticultis. Mostly I just felt tired and, at times, near collapse.
Putting out a feeler to my next-door business neighbors, I found that they would be glad to buy the space at the price I'd put into it. Within a couple of weeks it was sold and we were out. I could have stayed longer and delayed the close until a month or two into the fall art-selling season, but I was ready to be done with it. I needed to rest. In fact, I often found myself saying "I could use a year's vacation." I'd been in high gear for about three years to this point, dealing with both parents' final illnesses, deaths and closing out and selling their two homes.
So I've been slowing down since. My health is improving and I treasure, absolutely TREASURE my freedom to do simple things like take a walk or a nap or even a little trip out of town when I feel like it. This is true wealth. So now, if you're still with me, let's look at:
TEN REASONS TO CLOSE AN ARTIST-OWNED GALLERY DURING A RECESSION:
1. My dad was right. It's good to buy real estate in down times. But there is a price to pay, in holding costs if it's empty or not productive, and it's not a passive investment. It's work. He himself never bought anything but his house and a vacation house, and those were more than he could manage as he got older. And the truth is there are actually some other investments out there that can be good: right now we're getting a nice interest rate carrying the trust deed on the gallery sale! Sure a lot easier....!
2. Yes, some artists have done well lately, but most have not. Success at such times takes inordinate takes luck, determination, energy and business acumen. Yawn.... I think I'll go take a nap.
3. "Some say a weak art market is good for an emerging artist gallery. That's because it's not profitable at first anyway, and then you'll be rising in reputation just when the buyers come back. My price point, quality and value are good and, really, I only need to sell three $400 pieces a month to make basic expenses." Well, nice thoughts, but marketing and ads costs are more than you expect (and not worth it, I might add), as well as various odds and ends. Location is more important. So, despite decent sales, I lost about $12,000 in six months and heard too many stories of others who lost $100,000 and their health keeping a gallery open for several years. I decided to nip this charity in the bud.
4. "It will most likely boost my creativity, skills and production. While I have worried that it may mean less freedom and even time to devote to painting, it could actually be a productive studio space: larger, brighter than home, without some of the distractions and temptations. Knowing my undisciplined and easily-distracted tendencies, maybe a schedule and a monthly sales goal are just what I need." In fact, I found it a hard place to be creative. Some succeed at this, but the key is to be very disciplined in the first place and to start your studio painting BEFORE you open the doors or the computer.
5. Be careful about rushing a decision. I thought this situation might be perfect to "do it now" but in fact the restaurant did not particularly draw wealthy clients, I rushed too quickly into the selection of my associates and so on. Just because a situation unfolds quickly and easily, it may not be the best choice to make.
6. "It's most likely my best career builder.Yes, I could cultivate other outlets but it would never offer the same opportunity for the unique space I want, with poems next to my pieces, with my art-poetry books, with music. And no one has as much interest in getting my work out there as I do." This remains to be seen. I'm still in a certain amount of rest and recovery time, but I do notice that there are other opportunities in life and I suspect the best art career builder is to do one's best possible painting first. Running a retail business is a different career altogether: artist beware. (and I've seen several other artist-owned galleries go under in the last year also, for similar reasons).
7. "We need a backup plan in case all hell breaks loose. Well, nothing in this world is totally secure, but today I got definitive proof that this is a desirable, leasable space (with profit), even in this market. Whew. That helps." Wow, it's interesting to look back at one's thoughts sometimes....! Yes, have a backup plan. As it turned out, ours was the simply the good fortune of being able to sell it so easily. The buyers have not found anyone to lease it yet, but they're young and productive business folks: I think they'll make a go of it eventually. I wish them luck (and I still have the gallery sign in case we have to repossess it... just kidding!)
8. "The location follows a formula for success. Though it is not a gallery district at this point, I read of others succeeding in a similar area near Aspen, getting in cheaper before it was fully developed." At this point, I'd advise most artist-owned galleries to locate in an existing pedestrian art district unless it's really more of a studio for you. I think it's a morale-booster to be among your own kind. I enjoyed my financial business and restaurant neighbors, but it would have been a lot more fun with fellow artists nearby.
9. "You gotta follow your dream. " Some dreams are just dreams and you don't have to follow them. The real trick is learning to love each day as it unfolds and knowing who you really are, here and now. Admit it. It's true.
10. You will never know if you don't try! Well... there's truth in that! Life is for learning.
So, what have I learned? Do I have regrets? Once in a while I miss it a tiny bit, but overall, no. It was a marvelous six-month exhibit. It did help boost my standing and confidence. And I wouldn't completely rule out doing it again. But I'd want to do it in a more artsy location, with a dependable partner or partners to spell each other (family members or lifelong friends seem to be the best combos in my observation, or just people looking after each other adjacent spaces for a commission). And I'd want to first really consider other ways of achieving the same purposes. I'd also be less inclined to host other artists and turn over monthly shows unless I had someone really good to handle all that: it's a lot of work and can bring up a lot of emotional and political consequences that are not compatible with being a productive creative artist.
Another observation: It was great to have a beautiful space for exhibiting my work, but it did not actually serve my original purpose that well, which was to create an inspiring space with art, poetry and music. Most did not take the time to read the poems, for example. And I found my own state of mind became more and more about trying to make a sale. An artist friend who ran her own gallery in Costa Rica said it took at least a year to settle in and find her balance. And eventually I may have done that. But, maintaining the state of mind you visualize you will have is always a challenge.
This is true for all our dreams, isn't it? We may imagine the ideal partner, the ideal home, the ideal job. But the reality is that nothing outside ourselves can make us happy. Happiness is an inside job. And sometimes it's easier to find that inner happiness when life is just a tad bit slower... and simpler.
Leaving you with that thought, I welcome your comments and sharings!
|
via susanpitcairn.com