Museum curators have no problem thanking collectors, both private and corporate, but frequently indulge a hardwired reluctance to share credit with dealers. Collectors can take a thank-you for granted unless they want to remain anonymous. Dealers, however, can’t assume they’ll see a tip of the curatorial hat for a job well done.
Two recent cases in Seattle:
Now at the Frye, Swedish video artist Nathalie Djurberg was at Howard House last year in a show curated by HH director Sara Callahan. The Frye wall text acknowledges only the high points of Djurberg’s resume, which is fine, except in Seattle, where Callahan put her on the map. Why not say so?
More egregious is the Henry Gallery‘s treatment of Greg Kucera. Kucera is Seattle’s go-to guy for all things William Kentridge. Because Kucera sold a hefty share of it, he knows who has which Kentridge, and who’d be willing to loan it.
Naturally, when organizing her own Kentridge, Henry chief curator Elizabeth Brown asked Kucera for help, which he promptly provided. Fast forward to show time.
Kentridge performed I am not me, the horse is not mine earlier this month, sponsored by the Henry. The Henry’s Kentridge exhibit is up through May 3, and Greg Kucera’s through March 28.
Introducing Kentridge before his performance, Brown failed to mention Kucera’s show. She also failed to thank the dealer for the major role he played in putting hers together, although she thanked as a group the local collectors who made loans.
Surely these omissions were inadvertent? I’d like to think so, but it’s hard to imagine the reverse – dealer acknowledged and collectors snubbed.
Isn’t it time to abandon the illusion that dealers are all about money and curators are all about art? The dealer who’s in it only for the money doesn’t make any, and the museum curator who thinks the bottom line is beneath her helps to sink her/his institution.
When I asked Kucera about this subject, he said, “Don’t write about it.” Why do it anyway? Because it’s healthy to air certain aspects of the art world that used to be hidden.
As Robert Creeley put it in Like They Say:
Underneath the tree on some
some grass I sat, Iwatched two happy
woodpeckers bedis-
turbed by my presence. And
why not, I thought tomyself, why
not.
This is an interesting angle, and something I am glad you brought up.
My experience as a “dealer” is that there is a canyon that divides the for-profit art business from the nonprofit art world. Both sides have equal stake in the development, promotion, and continuing sucess of art in a community, yet one side reaches out, the other pulls inward. One side extends a hand asking for money & support. The other side gives it. There is very little reciprocity.
Time to bridge the gap.
Attending Oregon’s Art Commission Summit last year, I was amazed that there were perhaps 2 dealer-types in attendance. This is an indicator of the divide.
It can be argued that dealers do more for the art community than non profits. Why? Because we sell work. We put money directly in the pockets of artists. Artists can’t survive without income. Nonprofits, seem to generate funds to first pay for staff and overhead. With the visual arts, there is rarely any money left over to benefit the actual working artists.
At 911 Seattle media Arts Center we always recognize any Gallery who represents the artists we show. Tivon Rice = Lawrimore Project, Margot Quan Knight = James Harris Gallery
It’s happened before..note Richard Misrach last year when our pals at G. Gibson weren’t mentioned either.