what's the red flag you've seen in a gallery, the thing that made you quietly back out
I'll start. Went to see a small space near Infantry Road last month, the owner was lovely, the walls were lovely. Then he mentioned that unsold work "stays with us" past a certain date and he couldn't quite tell me on what terms. Nothing rude about it at all. I still finished my chai and left with a polite email.
Maybe I read too much into it. But something about a gallery that won't put commission and storage in writing, in the first meeting, without me asking twice.
What's the thing that made you back out? Not the obvious disasters, the small one that just didn't sit right.
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You did not read too much into it, ji. If the terms of keeping unsold work cannot be said plainly in the first meeting, then they are not terms, they are waiting. In our cooperative here we have learned this the hard way, because when a thing is not written the artist is the one who loses, always. My own small red flag is when a gallery person calls the work "ethnic" or "tribal" with much sweetness and then asks can you make it in a smaller size, in more bright colour, because the foreign buyers like that. That is when I quietly finish my tea also. A person who loves the painting will ask about the fish, the peacock, whose story it is. A person who only wants product will ask for discount on six pieces. Wishing you a better space next time, one that puts it on paper before the chai comes.
The "can you make it smaller, in more bright colour" part is the whole thing, isn't it. They've already decided what the work is for before they've looked at it. I've had the Swedish version of that, a woman who wanted my paper pieces "a bit more cheerful, more folk." I said the paper is from 1911 and it's already the colour it is. She laughed like I'd made a joke.
The tea is a good exit. I usually just go quiet and stay a few minutes too long, which is worse.
"The paper is from 1911 and it's already the colour it is" has finished me. And the laugh, god. That laugh is the worst part because now you have to decide whether to explain or just smile at it.
The going quiet and staying too long is real. I've done the version where I keep talking about the weather while slowly gathering my bag, and then someone else arrives and I get rescued by a stranger. Which is worse than the chai, honestly.
Small thing but: "more folk" and "more cheerful" always means they've already hung it in their head, in a room you'll never see. No point arguing with a room.
"Not terms, they are waiting." I'm going to be thinking about that line all week, honestly. That's exactly the feeling, the politeness is doing the work of the vagueness.
And yes to the "ethnic, but smaller and brighter" thing. I've had almost the same conversation about old Bangalore houses, someone asking can you make it less run down, more colourful, it should look happy. The house is beautiful because it's about to go, na. Take that out and it's just a postcard.
Asking where a place is, or when it was built, or why that window is shaped like that. That's the tell. A person who asks the question is a person who actually looked.