Lenny

Pricing Artwork

Recently I had an interesting email exchange with a very well-known artist, whose work I have sold (in my capacity as an art dealer and gallerist) many times in the past, including to American and Latin American museums.

She was giving me prices for her new work, and checking up with me (and all her other dealers I assume), because she had noticed that some galleries were selling a particular limited edition etching for “$3,000 each, when the gallery price should be $5,000.”

I’ve never seen this work listed for under $5,000, but I digress.

She affirmed that the gallery price for that particular work was $5,000 and that only she could sell her own work in her own studio for $3,000.

What?

This is a harsh lesson that most artists need to learn very quickly: An artist cannot afford to compete with him/herself when it comes to prices.

Nearly all emerging artists, when first dealing with a gallery encounter the business fact that a gallery has to make a commission from the artist’s work in order to make ends meet as a business. The first reaction of the artist is sometimes to “bump” the price to meet the gallery’s commission.

No good!

The exact same editioned work can’t be sold for $1000 in DC, for $4000 in London, for $800 in Brazil and for $500 bucks in your studio. The same size painting cannot wonder all over the price scale depending where it’s being sold.

See what that does?

1. It can damage the reputation of a dealer. Imagine the collector who pays $1,000 in London and then he sees the same work for $500 elsewhere? The immediate reaction is “that dealer ripped me off,” not realizing that the artist is the one who is ripping everyone off by creating price confusion and trying to pass the gallery commission off to the collector. A good artist and gallery relationship is a symbiotic one, not a money struggle.

2. It will damage the reputation of the artist and will always bring the “real” price of the work down to the lowest price, when the idea is for art dealers and artists to work together to raise demand and thus prices; not have prices wondering all over the scale.

This is very different from the secondary art market, where auction prices can wonder wildly all over the place.

But artists must be consistent in their pricing and accept the fact that if they are going to work with an art gallery or art dealer or both, then they can’t have them competing with each other and also with the artist, because a good art dealer’s job is to protect both the artist and the collector.

Of course there are nuances to this process… both dealers and artists should have a specified leeway to give collector’s discounts to ahhh… collectors, and also offer discounts to multiple buys when someone buys several works at once.

But not discount your own work by 50% just because it is being sold out of your studio.

That just drags your prices down and will cause your art dealer to scold and educate you, or even drop you.

Of course, like some artists that I know, if you do not need an art dealer and can sell your own work all the time, then — since you are the only one selling it — you control prices and can do whatever you want, and hopefully won’t be having art “sales” where you’ll be “discounting” the work that you sold to collectors a week earlier for a specific price, to a much lower price.

It’s a little complicated at first, but once you truly examine the issue, then it should be clear to see that the idea and goal is to expose your artwork, get it seen, commented upon and — if that’s your goal — sold for a fair and reasonable price, and letting the laws of economics take it to where it should be.

But definitely not under the “blue light special” of your own studio.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (8)

Lenny

Types of Galleries: Cooperatives

Earlier on I discussed commercial galleries and vanity galleries.

Together with commercial art galleries, artists-run cooperative art galleries are perhaps the most important gallery components of a city or area’s art tapestry.

A cooperative (or co-op) art gallery is a for profit art gallery which is owned and run by a group of artists - or a cooperative of artists.

The artists share the costs associated with running the gallery, and often also share the task of manning the gallery - or the costs of hiring a gallery staff to run the space.

Running anything by committee is never easy, and cooperatives (in my experience) tend to have some very good, solid points, and also share the drawbacks of a committee-run enterprise (usually 10% of the people end up doing 90% of the work).

Depending on size and structure, a co-op can usually “guarantee” each member a solo show every couple of years. Most co-ops also have an area (bins or a small room) where members can always have some work on view.

Because co-ops share and spread the costs of running a gallery, they are often better equipped to survive the prodigious ups and downs of a gallery business life. As a result, a good co-op will be able to survive a market where most new galleries fail, and in my experience it is not unusual to see that in many cities the oldest galleries are usually co-ops.

Because co-ops thus dissipate financial dangers, they are also optimally equipped to present shows that are never intended to be commercially appealing, but which nonetheless offer a good contribution to the artistic dialogue. Thus a co-op can sometimes present a show that a commercial gallery may turn down as commercially impossible.

Co-ops are often also the best place to discover emerging artists, and in my experience this happens at all ranges of the age spectrum.

I am a big fan of cooperative galleries, and I strongly believe that this artist-run model for an art gallery is one of the key elements of any art scene.

Next: Non-profit art galleries

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (8)

Lenny

Types of Galleries: Vanity

Yesterday I discussed (at a very high level) the model for commercial art galleries; today we will look at vanity galleries.

A vanity gallery is an art space that “rents” or sells its space to artists in order for the artist to have a show. Thus, the main driver in having a show at a vanity gallery is not necessarily the quality of the artwork, but the artist’s ability to pay the gallery to host his/her artwork.

New York is crawling with vanity galleries, and a large number of European galleries are vanity galleries. In the US however, vanity galleries are often looked down upon by everyone who knows that they’re a “pay-as-you-show” space, since they are essentially a “rental” gallery.

A knowledgeable art critic or curator knows which galleries in his/her town are vanity galleries, and often ignore them, much like book critics ignore most self-published writers, who use “vanity publishers.”

An interesting fact in my experiences as a gallerist, is the fact that I have seen “reputable” galleries which sometimes cross the line and become “charge the artist” galleries or vanity galleries once in a while, as the mighty dollar (or lack thereof) calls.

Sometimes, when I was co-owner of the Fraser Gallery in Washington, DC and Bethesda, Maryland, we’d get a phone call from an embassy, or from the agent of a Hollywood actor who’s also a “painter” or “photographer,” or from an individual “artist,” and they would ask us how much would we charge to host a show by their “artist.”

When we’d inform them that we do not rent the gallery for artists to have shows, they’d thank us and hang up. Then a few months later I’d see that “Hollywood artist” or “embassy artist” exhibiting in one of the area’s “reputable” art galleries, and immediately recognize that - at least for that month - that gallery is making ends meet by renting the space to someone.

While I understand that most galleries are labors of love, and often run by the skin of one’s teeth, I still find it somewhat distasteful, and dishonest - to appear (on the surface) to be a gallery that shows work based on merit, while at the same time showing work based on an artist, or a corporation’s ability to pay.

And it’s not just commercial art spaces. Several years ago, a local Washington, DC newspaper profiled a local non-profit, which inadvertently - in the text of their profile - admitted charging a multinational corporation a hefty fee to put up an art show at their “reputable” non-profit art spaces.

One can even make the case that even some museums sometimes cross the line and become “vanity museums.”

A few years ago I was astounded when a Culture Minister from one of the embassies in DC told me that they had finished a deal with a local museum to host the first ever retrospective of one of that country’s artists for a fee of four million dollars! To him, it was “business as usual,” while to me it was distasteful and dishonest and left a bad taste in my mouth about that museum for the longest time.

Next: Cooperative Art Galleries

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (2)

Lenny

Types of Galleries: Commercial

A few years ago a freelance galleries critic for the Washington Post reviewed a show at a particular DC gallery, and while reading the paper during breakfast with an artist friend, I couldn’t help myself.

“Can you believe that she reviewed this show?” I said to my friend, “that’s a vanity gallery!”

My friend looked at me puzzled. “What’s a vanity gallery?”

Now I looked at him puzzled. “You, know… a gallery that an artist has to pay and rent in order to have a show.”

While that particular space - the only one of its kind in DC at the time - has long ceased to exist, vanity galleries flourish in most American cities (most often in NYC) and constitute a significant number of European galleries, where the model seems to prosper more readily than the US.

There are several “models” of art galleries. I will discuss them all, but will start with the commercial art gallery, and eventually we’ll get to discuss the vanity gallery model.

First among equals is the independently owned fine arts commercial art gallery, which is usually either a heroic labor of love from someone who (a) loves the visual arts or (b) is a collector who decides to become a dealer, or (c) someone grabbing a chance to dance at the leading edge of the fine arts — in my experience by someone who is on the upper end of the well-to-do financial scale.

“If you want to make a million dollars in art,” goes a well-known industry saying, “start with five.”

Starting an art gallery is a risky, usually money-losing situation, often driven by nothing but idealism and love for the arts.  I was once lectured by a US Chamber of Commerce expert on the subject with the statistic that after restaurants, art galleries are the second most likely business in the US to fail - usually within six months.

Commercial art galleries survive by selling artwork in order to pay for their rent, utilities, advertising, shipping, opening expenses, staff salaries, etc. If they don’t sell, they close. They generally collect 50% commissions on the sale of the artwork that they showcase - on consignment in business terms - from artists that they “represent.” Some galleries, especially in NYC, may charge more, and I know of quite a few that go as high as 70%, but 50% is the “standard.”

Or, as was the case rather recently with a “power” art gallery, you can lose money consistently and indifferently if you are an owner who is independently wealthy (she got tired after a few years and abruptly closed the gallery).

Or, as was the case with a very trendy gallery that got all the reviews, and whose openings were always packed, you can have “investors.” The problem is that at some point the investors - say five years - will start asking questions and a return on their “investment,” and suddenly the gallery closes.

Those asterisks aside, reputable commercial art galleries also promote their artists and help them to grow alongside the gallery, and have no “hidden” monetary charges in their dealer-artist contracts, other than the commission of art sold - either by the gallery or through referral.

Other gallery models include artists cooperative galleries, or “co-ops,” vanity galleries, non-profit galleries, embassy galleries, alternative art spaces, restaurant galleries, library galleries and “moving” galleries… more on all those later.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (6)

Lenny

More Bad Things Galleries Do To Artists & Bad Things Artists Do To Galleries

Previous entry on this subject here.

Bad Things Artists do to Galleries

The below anecdote actually happened to a Washington, DC gallery at the time located in Georgetown:

The gallery had given a show to a local (at the time “hot”) DC artist who was a painter (I say “was” because I haven’t heard of the dude in years).

The artist was supposed to deliver and help hang all the paintings on a Wednesday, in order to be ready for the Georgetown third Friday openings. He did show up on Wednesday with about 50% of the work, and brought some more (freshly finished) on Thursday and to the gallerist’s horror, even brought some more on Friday, and even as the show was opening at 6PM, was adding the last painting touches to several of the works.

Needless to say, several of the oils were actually wet by opening time at 6PM.

On opening night, it was crowded (let us not forget that this was a very “hot” painter) and someone apparently rubbed against one of the paintings and smeared some of the oil paint on the canvas.

Now the gallerist is faced with a very irate person, demanding that his suit be cleaned (it eventually had to be replaced) and with a furious artist, demanding that the gallery pay him in full for the damaged painting.

If I am to believe the gallerist, the case actually went to court, where the judge threw it out.

Now that I think about it, since most gallerists in the DC area heard about this escapade, no wonder that this artists ceased to show anywhere in the DC area!

Bad Things Galleries do to Artists

Many good, reputable galleries also run a framing business at the same time, as the job of keeping an art gallery profitable or even breaking even is quite a heroic task. When a bad gallery which runs a frame shop and a novice artist get together, trouble happens. I know of several instances where the following has occurred:

The artist and the gallery agree on a show, and well in advance set the date for the opening, publicity, etc. The artist inquires about framing and the gallery responds by saying: “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.”

And so well before the opening, the artist brings all of his/her work in, they discuss mouldings, and the gallery does all the framing.

On opening night, if the artist is lucky, several pieces sell. At the end of the show, depending on how much work sells, instead of a check for his commission, the artist gets in the mail a framing bill which lists the total framing costs for the whole show, minus the artists’ commission, and because of the high cost of custom framing, a deficit in favor of the gallery’s framing business.

The way to prevent this from happening is by always having a contract that spells out all details of the business exchange between the artist and the gallery. Needless to say, the artist should have asked a lot of questions about framing prices, overall costs, and payment procedures.

In most cases, custom framing truly raises the expenses of an artist’s show, and while reputable framers will do a great job to work with people to arrive at a clear goal, just handing an entire show to a gallery’s framing business must require a lot of good communications and understanding of prices, debts, what happens after the show, etc.

Framing is an art by itself, and if the artist in my example is lucky, he/she may end up with an expensive lesson, but at least a set of his work in nice frames. I know of at least one artist who didn’t really get too involved in the moulding selection process, and to her horror on opening night discovered her artwork framed in gaudy, gold rococo frames.

To make matters worse, she didn’t sell anything at the show, and thus after the show ended up with a huge framing bill and about 20 framed watercolors in really ugly expensive gold frames that belonged to the 19th century.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (2)

Lenny

Bad Things Galleries Do To Artists & Bad Things Artists Do To Galleries

A bad thing that unethical galleries do to artists:
Unethical galleries all over the nation and in most countries will take in a piece of artwork by an artist, and when the price is discussed, the gallery says: “What’s the price?” and the artist says: “$1000″ The gallery nods OK and the artist leaves, knowing that if sold, he’ll get $500 (most galleries in the US charge 50% commission — in NYC some are as high as 70%). The gallery then sells the piece, but for $2,000, sends the artist a check for $500 and pockets the extra $1,000. That is why artists should insist on having a contract with a gallery, and the contract must specifically address that the artist will get 50% of the actual sale price.

A bad thing some artists to do galleries:
A good reputable gallery is a work of love, with gallerists usually running the business by the skn of their teeth. And when a gallery gives an artist a show, they go through all the various multiple expenses associated with doing so (rent, electricity, staff salaries, publicity, ads, post cards, opening reception catering, etc.) - usually before a single work of art is sold. So far the gallery has put forth a considerable investment in presenting the artist’s works - all because the gallerist believes in the artist’s work. An interested novice collector meets the artist at the opening and expresses interest (to the artist) in buying some of his artwork. The artist, wishing to stiff the gallery for their commission says: “See me after the show and I’ll sell it to you directly and save myself the gallery commission.” This is not only unethical, but it’s also guaranteed to ruin the artist’s reputation in the city, as these things always come out in the wash, and soon no gallery will exhibit any work by this artist. Remember, when a gallery gives an artist a show, and nothing sells, the artist still walks away with all his/her work, and maybe even a review, plus the art has been exposed to collectors and the public. The gallery gets to pay all the bills, even though no sales were made.

I will continue to post these “bad things” - coming from both the dealer’s side and the artist’s side, as a good dealer-artist relationship is a symbiotic relationship always anchored in trust and good communications.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Leave a Comment

Lenny

Studio Visit: Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons

She has been called “one of Boston’s most prominent artists,” and as evidence it has been submitted that the Cuban-born artist has shown at New York’s Museum of Modern Art, Minneapolis’s Walker Art Center, the Smithsonian, the Venice Biennale, and many other prestigious venues around the world.

And last year the Indianapolis Museum of Art hosted “Everything Is Separated by Water,” a mid-career retrospective of Campos-Pons’ paintings, sculptures, photos, and installations.

IMA poster for Campos-Pons exhibition

I visited Magda, as she is usually called, and we met in her four year old gallery, Gasp, which she and her husband opened in 2004 — and which according to the Boston press “specializes in group shows of young experimenting artists and stars from the international art circuit that her own stature attracts. It’s one of a handful of galleries in town that aren’t primarily commercial or institutional.”

“You look like one of my cousins,” she told me with a huge smile as we met; the smile would rarely leave her face during the three plus hours that I spent talking with this dynamo of a woman.

Campos-Pons was born in La Vega, in the province of Matanzas, Cuba, a sugar plantation town where her Nigerian great-great grandfather worked as a slave in Cuba’s brutal slave system, in which sugar mill owners often owned thousands of slaves and where life, death and rape were common parts of life.

In Spanish, Matanzas means “Slaughter” or “Killings” — imagine a US state or a Canadian province named “Slaughter.” It commemorates the actual suicide deaths of tens of thousands of Taino Indians who committed suicide rather than become slaves to their white masters from Spain as Kubanacan (as Cuba was known in the native Taino language) became a colony of the mighty Kingdom of Spain.

When Cuba’s native population died out from suicide or disease, the Conquistadores began the America’s slave trade and brought in African slaves purchased from the Arabs, and mostly on the brutal labor of their backbones, a new Cuban nation was forged eventually.

And as an Afro-Cuban woman, Campos-Pons has used her cultural and racial background the initial key theme of her own work, with long ties to her Cuban homeland, but also with a powerful influence of her evolving Americanosity.

We talked about Cuba, about her background there, her education, her growing disappointment with the intolerant and repressive Castro regime, her trials and tribulations in leaving the land that she loves so much, her marriage to the talented American musician Neil Leonard, the struggle to get a legal visa to the US - during which she lived for a year and a half in Canada on art fellowships with her husband visiting her on weekends, before she was allowed to immigrate to the US at the end of 1991.

We switched between machine-gun Cuban Spanish and English, as she described her gallery, which she is heroically building one room and idea at a time. I was amazed by a wide-planked wood floor that Magda constructed herself, the doorway that she cut through the wall, the translucent plastic materials that she uses very elegantly to cover up and separate areas and to create a resident artist’s studio, and the new expansive room that she is now building. “This gallery is an art installation in progress,” I thought to myself.

We discussed her then current show at the gallery, Are We There Yet? - curated by Dawoud Bey. It featured work by Howard Henry Chen, Alan Cohen, Christine DiThomas, Aron Gent, Rula Halawani, Surendra Lawoti, Curtis Mann, Oscar Palacio and Adriana Rios. I was particularly impressed by the work of Curtis Mann and Christine DiThomas. Mann’s compositional abilities and a very effective technique of distressing paper in order to acquire a good ground for the piece, really yields very memorable imagery, while DiThomas’ photographs transcend the focus of the show and float - aided considerably by the very elegant presentation and soft focus - a sense of time and place; they can be “modernized” images from the 50s, 60s or even colonial America.

Magda was enthusiastic and energizing in describing the show and the artists, and relating - from one gallerist to another now - the struggles and successes of running an independent art gallery: dealing with landlords, helping the emerging Brookline neighborhood establish a separate but individual identity rather than become another cookie-cutter gentrified neighborhood. She is a hurricane in action, one moment telling me about her plans to talk to a friend restauranteur into opening an Iranian food cafe that would feature artwork; the next moment talking about forging friendships with the new small businesses that have opened since they opened Gasp.

In the middle of this, a Chinese lady pops into the gallery. “I just cooked these and wanted to give you some,” she tells Magda as she hands her a bag full of noodles. She is the owner of a tiny new Chinese restaurant down the block. It is the perfect exclamation point to our conversation.

I’ve been there for over two hours and I still have not talked about her own work, but I have been hypnotized into talking for hours about Cuba, the gallery business, art, race, immigration, the press, Cuban food, cooking, her neighborhood, Boston, and even issues dealing with the plight of illegal aliens.

Her 15-year-old son Arcadio walks in, already half a foot taller than either one of us; it is time for Magda to check his homework assignment. They disappear for a while in the back of the gallery while she checks his laptop report. Later on I find out that Arcadio’s homework assignment is in fact assigned by his parents in exchange for computer gaming time. The assignment? To write four gallery or museum reviews a month. “He is really developing into a very good writer and critic,” the proud mother tells me.

When I am not here/Estoy Alla by Magda Campos-Pons
“When I am not here/Estoy Alla” c. 1994 by Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons

We digress into a discussion about children and she laughs as she tells me about the surreal experiences of a Cuban black woman in the wee hours of the morning taking her very Bostonian child to hockey practice in a freezing ice arena and also relates Arcadio’s visits to Cuba and how well he fit into the Cuban world of La Vega.

My wife calls and wants to know if she can run from the downtown hotel to the gallery and meet us. Magda, who also runs regularly, changes gears and gives her directions and is amazed when my wife shows up forty minutes later. “You ran from Copley to here already?” she asks amazed.

We start the gallery tour all over again - this is a gallerist possessed by love for her art and love for her gallery and the opportunity that it affords to the artists that she show. “We have a different model,” she tells us. “We have a curated show each month,” she explains, “with a thematic exhibition by several artists as well as a show by a new, emerging artist in the back room.”

We walk upstairs to her studio, on the way up she apologizes about the mess that we’re to expect. “All artists do this,” I think to myself. I have never been to a neat artist studio, and hopefully I never will.

She immediately begins to root around for things and artwork and post-cards and books and memories. “I never throw anything away,” she warns us as she dances around the crowded two rooms that make up her studio space. The walls are packed with both work by other artists, really advanced work by her son, and works in progress by Campos-Pons.

Like most Cuban artists, Magda is highly trained in nearly every facet of the fine arts: she is a printmaker, a painter, a sculptor, a videographer, a photographer and even a glass artist.

Over the years her photographic work has been a prominent member of the leading visual imagery of contemporary art; the one below (of Magda and her mother) once graced the cover page of the New York Times’ art section…
Maria Magdalena Campos-Pons

As most artists who dance at the top of the art world know, it is a hard dance, and continuing exploration of what fuels the fire of being an artist becomes an essential part of continuing success.

María Magdalena Campos-Pons. Backyard Dreams #5, c.2005.

We begin discussing her latest works and Magda dissolves and melts in front of my eyes, and reforms herself into a fountain spewing multiple jets of information at once.

There’s something unique about this talented artist - she’s the Cuban art world’s Pocahantas to the New Yorkish John Smith art universe. Through her and her work, Cuba’s bloody African entrails are exposed, perhaps to the chagrin of Miami’s powerful and nearly all white Cuban-American population. Like Pocahantas, she learned English harshly and quickly, and also like Pocahantas, she learned to adapt as needed and become a new entity in an almost colorless new world.

Through her and her art, first Bostonians and then the art universe was given a high dose of Cuban art education, and within that art world even African-Americans were also initiated: “you are not the only ones, my Northern brothers and sisters,” her artwork shouts to the four corners of America.

It is all a good thing for art, because the most important achievement that her artwork has caused is to deliver Campos-Pons from precisely all those boxes and labels that we are all so fond of trying to pin on artists.

In a very strong sense, her artwork and her success has liberated her from labels, and while her Cubanosity has certainly fueled her artistic personna and productivity, it is her talent and work ethic as an artist that now has her as just a brilliantly talented artist simply producing great art.

Art.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (1)

Lenny

Some New Color

When it comes to art history, classes usually only discuss the nation’s capital in terms and in the context of the Washington Color School, a 1960s art movement whose members are also often referred to as the “stripe painters” or “Color Field artists.” Their paintings and mixed media works emphasized abstracted fields and expanses of color that conveyed a sense of infinity, and being immersed in an environment of color.  Artists such as Gene Davis and Morris Louis went on to have great impact upon 20th century art with their works that defined this color field movement.

Detail from Phantom Tattoo by Gene Davis
Detail from “Phantom Tattoo” by Gene Davis

Inspired by that art movement, Washington area artist Robert Kent Wilson recently completed a project that he calls “Some New Color.” This is a permanent public art installation in the retail level display windows located at 400 Massachusetts Ave. NW, a mixed-use residential condominium building in downtown Washington, DC.

“We are so pleased with what Robert has created at 400 Massachusetts Ave. NW for the residents of the building, and for anyone that encounters the artwork as they pass by the site,” describes Patricia Zingsheim, former chair of the Condo Association’s Building Committee, and a current resident.   “His work is very well suited and appropriate for the space, and it adds a beautiful and colorful dimension to the street experience for all to enjoy.”
 
Viewed from the street and best seen at night, “Some New Color” extends for approximately 130 feet in fourteen separate locations along the street front windows.  With the opportunity to use such an expanse of space, Wilson was inspired to create a continuous field of color and started with individual images blown up to a grand scale, which were then installed in a series, pairing images with the spaces.
Image of Installation by Wilson
Ultimately, Wilson viewed the project as an opportunity to pay homage to the Washington Color School artists and the movement that they created more than 45 years ago, as well as to highlight his own role as a contemporary Washington artist.

“I don’t necessarily consider myself strictly a Color Field artist, but my inspiration embodies much of what those artists did more than 40 years ago, with a heightened sense of awareness and a contemporary approach,” described Wilson.  “This project allowed me to show my appreciation to the Washington Color School by adding some new color to the landscape.”

To commemorate the public art project, a series of Wilson’s original color field works used to create the installation will be on view also at 475 H Street, NW in a gallery style exhibition.  An opening reception will be held on Thursday, June 5 from 6-9PM; the event is free and open to the public.

[Slashdot] [Digg] [Reddit] [del.icio.us] [Facebook] [Technorati] [Google] [StumbleUpon]

Comments (3)

Minds Eye Copyright © 2008 ART-tistics Blog. Powered by WordPress.