There are 28 Journal Items in 6 pages and your are on page number 3
|
| Where the money is |
So, I was looking over the sales of my artsy-types of woodturnings from 2006 the other night and discovered something interesting. Sure, my sales of those types of things were better than any other previous year. Nothing earth-shattering, mind you. That's not what was interesting (but yet still satisfying!). It was the fact that this was the first year when sales over the internet was higher than those from galleries.
Let me clarify this ... the number of items sold over the internet were a little lower but the profits from those sales where much higher. No having to drive to the galleries (you have to drive quite a distance to reach any reasonable gallery for these types of artsy pieces) or shipping charges to the farther away galleries. No commissions (70% ?!? I don't think so, Dian!) or having to go to those blasted "evening with the artists" events for fear of losing your slot on the pedestal. Just (almost) pure profit and you have a much closer relationship with the buyer too.
Oh, sure, there's absolutely a place for the gallery. Large pieces, like my furniture or very very special turnings (due to pricing and clientel) really must be done at such places. But the vast majority of these artsy turnings are selling just fine otherwise. I sort of thought that this was the way it was going during the summer but didn't have the hard figures to prove it to myself. Still, I pulled out of a few galleries and "gift galleries" (we all know they are more GIFT than GALLERY!) that I knew weren't providing the sales this past year. It's not necessarily the owners' fault either. It's just the way things are going for these types of items.
Is anyone else seeing the same thing from their gallery experiences?
|
| Posted by Andrew Hilton on Tuesday, January 09, 2007 at 09:55
|
|
|
| How much is a Shilling? |
A part of the New American Bodging involves demonstrating what I do. To help me become better at it, I like to study other demonstrators to try and pick up ideas of what to (and not to) do. Not just what they are saying but how they are saying it and their demeanor in presenting their craft. I think that this is easily as important as the actual skills and knowledge I acquire in making my chairs, treen, and other Bodger-craft. And just as difficult, as it turns out.
I was recently watching a demonstration and learned some things that I must always strive to (not) do in my own demos. What happened was this ... The demonstrator, a spring pole lathe turner, who had obviously been giving this same rehearsed speech for far too long, went about his presentation when asked a question about what he was doing. His explaination held very little interest in it for himself. There was no joy; little emotion at all, in fact. It was as though it was just a reading instead of a way to inform and entertain. I really hope that I don't get to that point in my own demonstrations. I hope that I can keep the craft fresh for myself so that I can pass that same enthusiasm on to others.
Part of this speech went into a little history of the Bodgers in England and how much they were paid for each piece of furniture produced. A woman piped-up with a question of how much a Shilling was worth. A simple question, or so I thought. I had no idea what the answer was though. Neither did the demonstrator. But, he didn't say that he didn't know. He launched into a very VERY long (the organized crowd of about a dozen standing around started leaving when it became clear that an actual answer wasn't coming in the near future) and rambling course on how the Shilling wasn't worth the amount now that it was back in the 1800's and how a days' wages for the youth of today is far different than when he was young, etc. etc. ....... Basically, he had no idea what the answer to the ladies' question was. He was searching, mentally, for something in his prepared speech that might fit the question. Nor did he know what the lady was actually asking ... that is: Were the bodgers getting very much for each of their chair legs? Were they better off doing this than something else that wasn't quite so labor intensive? What would a comparable amount in our currency (USA) be to the Shilling?
So, what did I learn? If I don't have enthusiasm for what I'm doing and can't pass that on to those I'm demonstrating for, then don't do it. It's time to move on at that point. You're doing yourself no good by continuing and, worse yet, you're passing on that same dull, passionless, boring feeling to people that might be actually inspired to try their hand at the craft or at least appreciate it and the craftsperson. I also learned to answer peoples' questions. Not only the specific question they ask but also what they may actually be asking. You don't have to try to fit part of your canned rehearsed speech to the question. You CAN say "I don't know". It's allowed. But you better find the answer so you're ready next time.
So, for the lady that asked the question ... if she should ever stumble upon this page someday, a Shilling is 1/20th of a Pound. If a Pound is about the same as a US Dollar (it's not, right now it's about 2 Pounds = 1 Dollar) then a Shilling is about equal to 5 cents. 5 cents back in the 1800's wasn't a lot of money but it wasn't nearly as worthless as it is today. 5 cents for a chair leg wasn't a whole lot for the time and skill it took to make it. But, when you consider that a good bodger could kick out a bunch of those each day, it's not a bad amount. Certainly a living wage at the time; in the place; and considering the job.
|
| Posted by Andrew Hilton on Friday, December 22, 2006 at 20:12
|
|
|
| Copy me. Pay me |
The word Plagiarism has been floating around the news lately. Sure, it's the writers that have gotten the heat as of late but this is an issue that affects all artists everywhere. It's a topic that is often mentioned, sometimes quite passionately, by woodworkers and woodturners on the front porch and at club meetings as well. There are two basic sides to the issue. Those that say that "I came up with the design first so you can copy it (if you can) but don't try to make any money from it. It's mine." and those that feel that what they create is open for anyone to use or copy as they wish. There's lots of good points on all sides, I feel. Hard work and creative ideas should be respected, encouraged, and compensated. Design isn't really a "black box" and therefore can't realistically be said to have come simply "out of the blue". It's a building block process that can't be separated from other peoples' creative processes and so on. Protecting the design, so-to-speak, is really just a way to control it's distribution and helpfulness to the community at large. Plagiarism of a design is stealing when you make money from it or claim it as your own. There are no new designs, really. It's all been done before and nothing is really new. How can anyone be expected to come up with something new, to expand and evolve the art form, if they can't be assured that their ideas and designs will be theirs and compensated? Yes, it's a complex topic for some people. For some people, it's not.. I think most of us can agree that stealing is bad. But the point that gets sticky is where we try to define what is actually "stealing". I've had many many talks with (wood) artists and craftsmen from all levels of experience, popularity and skill. I'm about to get into another hot-button topic concerning the definitions of "Artists and Craftsmen" but let's let that pass until another blog entry, ok? "Artists" almost universally are on the side of protecting their designs. Their designs and creativity behind it are the point. "Craftsmen" don't. Not that they think that design isn't extremely important. But they think that what they actually made and how it is made is more important. For myself? Strictly for myself and what I make? Copy me. If you can make it better than myself, then you deserve the compensation. For me, it's all about the Design and how it's Made. I am especially proud of my creativity. I am equally proud of my production. Copy me. You do me great respect if you copy something that you liked of mine. If you can be compensated for it, then I encourage it all the more. Whatever compensation you get for what you do doesn't threaten me and doesn't have anything to do with me. It has to do with you and your work. Copy me. If I want to protect my designs or creativity, I will not show it to anyone. I especially won't show you how to do it (giving a demonstration on how to make it, for example). Copy me. Use what I have done for the common good and expand on what you have seen as I have done. It is my duty as it is yours to use, re-use and expand. Copy me. I am not fearful of my creativity. I do not feel that my creativity is a limited resource. It is a commodity (commonly made, of wide distribution). It is not something that must be protected or limited access to because of its' rarity. It is a river that will ebb and flow, rise and fall, sparkle with light shown on it and mellow in times of depth, with the seasons of my life. Copy me. I will design and make more. I am not afraid.
|
| Posted by Andrew Hilton on Tuesday, November 07, 2006 at 18:40
|
|
|
| Tired ... but satisfied |
Tired. Beyond tired. A day or two or three at a time full of classes is one thing. But weeks on end? In my normal work, I'll put in some tough days with all of the hauling of wood, shaping, sanding, finishing and so on. Hard, long work as usual. No problem. I like that. But to have a class full of students and watching them, working on what they are working on along with my own project(s) at the same time.... now that's tough. And it's not like you get a break either. Each student works at their own pace (mostly) and takes their own breaks. But not the instructor. We're pretty much non-stop all day because of the staggered breaks. I think much of it is the mental / emotional part and not so much the physical. You're constantly watching and thinking ahead for each students' project as well as your own. This is normal for classes and a day, two or three at a time isn't bad. But weeks? Wow. And it extends into the nights many times too. Yes, we set down our tools (pocket knives not counting) after about 6 or 7pm but the design and brainstorming (that's "BS'ing" to you and me) go on for several hours after that. But that's probably the most satisfying time for me. That, and the next morning coming into the shop to see the students' projects with fresh eyes .... half closed, dazed and bloodshot because I'm so TIRED.
|
| Posted by Andrew Hilton on Tuesday, November 07, 2006 at 18:39
|
|
|
| This is why ... in his fathers' shop again |
What a day. One of those days that defines why you are there at that time and place. I don't believe in destiny. Nor astrology or anything having to do with predetermination of our lives. But I do believe I did some good today. And what more could a person ask for? I've had a lot of students the past few weeks. Some short-timers with a 1 or 2 day class. Some with a week-long session. They've almost all been memorable in their own ways. Sometimes it was their humor. Maybe it was their approach to life, craft, art or just the chili (and you know who you are!). But this one gentleman was a step beyond for me. 80+ years old and an accomplished woodturner in his own right but he had never tried Bodging. That green-wood woodworking / woodturning hybrid from days of old. There's a long story with Harold and why he is here at the school that I won't get into here. Basically, he got into woodturning after retiring because his father, grandfather and great-grandfathers (maybe even further back?) had been Bodgers (although they didn't call themselves that in Virginia at the time I understand) making high-end furniture, chairs, tables and all sorts of kitchen and home-ware. He remembered his fore-fathers' workshops (one in the same passed down through the generations) and felt that woodturning after retirement was a good fit. He heard about this class and decided to give it a try. His heritage was a huge part of his life now and he wanted to try to understand and maybe re-live it more with this class. Harold was quiet but seemingly excited during the days of the class. A nice student that treated this instructor (yours truly) with more respect and thoughtfulness than his years on Earth demanded. I did notice a few times that Harold would be grinning ear to ear while working on his projects with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. I don't normally pay that much attention but I could clearly see it in Harold now that I think of it more. The point, though, is that he paid me one of the greatest compliments I've ever had. Just before leaving yesterday, after a successful 3 day class, he pulled me aside and said "With your help, these past few days I was back in my grandfather and fathers' workshop. I think they would have been happy to have met you. Probably even hired you ...". Then he left with, I assume, memories of his youth in the company of great craftsmen fathers in their shops fresh in his mind. This is why I love teaching and demonstrating the old Bodging ways. To put a man back in his fathers' shop again.
|
| Posted by Andrew Hilton on Tuesday, November 07, 2006 at 18:38
|
|
|
|