Artists are the ultimate entrepreneurs. That’s why a trip to a museum is so inspiring for founders. Read Samuel Bacharach’s latest INC.com article here.
Tag: art
This site takes a lot of pride in it’s commitment to proactive leadership. In no field is being proactive and moving agendas ahead more important than the arts. Simply put the proactive artist is the only one that is going succeed in getting his or her work seen by a wider audience. With this in mind please enjoy the first installment of our Artist Spotlight. For this edition we will focus on the photography of Art Murphy.
Ian Fleming, author of the bestselling James Bond novels, considered Richard Chopping to be the British master of trompe l’oeil, an artistic technique that makes images appear three dimensional.
Fleming was introduced to Chopping’s art by his wife and was immediately attracted to its eye-arresting qualities. He felt that Chopping had to produce the cover art for the next installment of his Bond series, From Russia with Love (1957).
Chopping agreed to the project and on Fleming’s request drew a rose intertwined around a Smith and Wesson. Fleming paid 50 guineas (equivalent to $1,300 today) out of his own pocket so that he, not his publisher, could own and have the rights to the image.
The cover became synonymous with Bond and helped the series grow in popularity. The cover art was captivating, mysterious, and provocative which matched Fleming’s writing and personal style well.
A collaboration between writer and artist began–but it was by no means warm.
Chopping later referred to Fleming as “a mean and vain man” and even went as far as to criticize the Bond books themselves. In an interview in 2003 Chopping admits that his frustration with Fleming stems from Fleming’s attitude and his unfair pay scale. He remarked in an interview, “The paintings I did for his dust jackets are now worth thousands and they sold as many books. But he would not even let me have royalties.”
As for Flemings’ attitude and behavior as an employer a lot can be learned from the note he sent Chopping in 1961 asking him for a cover illustration for what would be, The Spy Who Loved Me (1962). The letter, featured on Letters of Note, hopes that Chopping can begin work on their forth collaboration for $5,000 (in today’s dollars).
Fleming proposed what he wanted the cover to look like and said “first of all, will you please do the jacket and, secondly, will you please have a brilliant idea?” Fleming set parameters while he gave a small hat-tip to autonomy.
Fleming did not let Chopping share the royalties and, as his note suggests, collaborated with Chopping superficially. It would seem that Fleming was less interested in motivating Chopping and more interested in getting anything that was in the neighborhood of Chopping’s distinctive style.
Chopping’s recent bitter reflections were most likely spurred by the success of Fleming’s work and the failure of his art to generate a similar reaction. Perhaps they were also inspired by the fact that Chopping sold his autographed Bond books before the 007 collectors market exploded.
Chopping’s hard creative work was under-appreciated, restrained, and wasn’t given a fair shake by Fleming. Fleming, as an employer, did little to motivate Chopping and push him for his best, most clever, work. Further, he didn’t place their artistic collaboration in high-esteem. He assumed Chopping’s participation, but he didn’t know of Chopping’s unease with working for a franchise that did little to motive his creativity.
In the end Fleming and Chopping collaborated on eight different projects, but Chopping was left unhappy, resentful, and sour over the experience. Working with creative talent isn’t a easy, but certainly Fleming’s mistakes can illuminate positions employers shouldn’t take.
Picture Credit: Johanoomen
I’ve been noticing an interesting phenomena that should raise the red flag for those leaders who in these austere times may overemphasize control, coordination, and cutbacks in the interests of running a tight ship.
Here’s an example:
A friend of mine has been director of painting and drawing at an institute for fine arts for over 30 years. He has made his reputation over the last 20 years by emphasizing the training of talented artists, with a particular focus on developing skills of young artists as they pursue their own expression and career path.
To enhance the reputation of the institute as a place that values artistic development, twice a year the institute sponsors an open house show that many collectors and gallery owners frequent. Occasionally, curators of smaller, but reputable museums attend. For years there was synergy between the students and the faculty. Both groups saw themselves as artists sharing a common dialogue. The strength of the institute had been its commitment to core values and understanding that its niche was unique.
Over the last two years, like many other organizations, the institute has faced some tough times. The newly installed director of the advisory board has implemented a policy based on cost reduction and revenue enhancement. Cost reduction is to be achieved by reducing the support staff, eliminating teaching positions, increasing class size, and suspending the studio show. The mindset was one that implied that the institute hit an iceberg on the high sea, had to batten down the hatches, save what they could, and abandon the rest. Doomsday had arrived.
In this instance, the cure may be worse than the disease. Some of the best teachers, who taught as a supplemental activity, are leaving. The most talented students are questioning whether this is the right place for them. The very values that the institute have striven for and sustained over the years are now, at best, being ignored.
Nowhere was this move from core values more evident than in new-student recruiting. Now the admissions process has been reduced to one simple rule: getting warm bodies with checkbooks into the seats. While there is still a token commitment to critical evaluation of the applicant’s portfolio, it is not as serious or as thorough as before. The irony is that even though the economy is weak, students are drawn to the classroom because there is nowhere else to go. Even though the institute could be more selective, in its anxiety over enhancing revenue, has chosen to dilute its criteria and standards.
The strategy is simple: the institute will survive the recession, and when it is over, the institute will return to its core values. The problem is that once core values are abandoned, especially from the top-down, it becomes impossible to regain them. Trust has been lost, community is gone, and momentum dissipates. Instead of asking themselves a single question, “How do we survive in this hard time?”, leadership needed to ask more and better questions: “How can we build on the strength of our core values?”, “How can we build on the commitment of our staff and students?” ,” How can we enhance the sense of community?” ,”What sacrifices do we all need to make?”
The short-term strategy of the institute will change the course of the ship, but kill its spirit. Proactive leaders understand that while cost-cutting is important, it must be done carefully while preserving the core and spirit of the organization. In the worst of economies, there is always a day after.
Picture Credit: Smithsonian
Over the last number of years, I’ve had occasion to interview a number of artists who in many ways have to be considered a success. While success in the art world is subjective, I would consider a successful artist as someone who does not simply define themselves as an artist, but as a person who pursues artistic development as a career and who lives, for the most part, off an income directly or indirectly supported by their artistic pursuit.
What struck me the most about the artists I’ve interviewed is their persistence. Most have pursued their artistic careers for well over thirty years, but all share a continuous commitment to their artistic pursuits.
