Poem: Art Appreciation

There was a painting down the
road in the local thrift store – $45.
My dad spotted it on a trip last
year. He said, “that looks like
that one you’ve got – the same birds”
I stopped myself mid eyeroll because
he was right this time. It was the same
artist. And it was from the same series.
“How much did you pay for yours?” He
of course added.
I told him two-hundred.

(We had bought it at the launch. Not
at a second hand store 15 years later).

It’s always a point of contention between
me and my dad – the price of art and how
there should always be the option of a deal;
you have to meet the market he says. And
an artist is an idiot to not entertain offers.

I’ve tried explaining the commission system,
how it works with dealers. How the artist loses
40% instantly – and even if they are able to do
any sort of ‘deal’ if they’re honest and want to
continue to be represented they might consider
giving 40% to the dealer still; there aren’t really
any back-alley deals with art – and if you really
want a bargain you wait until someone gets divorced
and buy a painting from TradeMe or a Salvation Army
store. Then the artist misses out entirely – and you live
with the memories of a broken relationship (most likely)
hanging on your wall.

Frame it forever!

He has told me on more than one occasion that I am
talking horseshit – on account of the fact that he used
to sell cars and people were always asking him to come up with
a deal; to sharpen his pencil, to cut them some slack.
That slack came out of his pocket – he reckoned. And so it should
be with the artist. No amount of explaining the difference in
prices and structures between paintings and local artists and
cars and multinational companies would ever do.

And his big slam dunk, his winning shot, his ultimate
proof: One time he visited an artist in Blenheim – and basically
begged the guy to sell him two paintings for the price of one, or
close enough to it. His logic – the money the guy was ‘making’
was better than getting none. And besides, now he had two
paintings for the walls. Not one.

Art is personal – and it’s my personal opinion that
I wouldn’t hang either of those pictures
in my fireplace, let alone over it. But anyway…

My mum saw the bird painting on their most recent visit
and I reminded her that  it had been there a few
months – and how we had thought about
buying it but didn’t feel great about
cashing in on it – but how it was a pretty good deal.
She stopped and considered it. And the next day before
they left I asked them if they were going to stop off
for  the $45 bargain.

My dad slurped his tea and spat out this line:

“I’ve got $35 for it because you never pay full price.”

“Good on you”, I replied.

And that was that.

Until a day later a text arrived with a picture of the
birds – hanging on their wall. And another line,

“Look what made it home with us. $30
No papers!”

There’s art there somewhere. And that’s
to be appreciated I guess.