The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Folks often ask why is it us artists don’t start a co-op art gallery down here on the South End the way most places with an overabundance of aesthetics and egos do. Truth is, we have considered it. And more than a few times, rejected the notion. Personally I love the idea of a joint venture with my fellow artisans, but … well, let’s be brutally honest here, we’re mostly a clueless lot fiscally. Whatever side of the brain controls creativity, it’s not the same side as the side that manages finance, money, business or advertising. In fact, I suspect if we ran a CAT scan on most of our brains, that area would be dark, almost as if aliens had stolen it.

Put a few dozen of us together, say, in a meeting to decide how to organize a co-op art gallery, and let me tell you, it’s an anarchist agenda right from the get-go. Maybe we just don’t get much beyond how many of our watercolors the wall space will hold. Forget leasing the building, forget who manages the sales, forget who sits the place open.

Then you got the issue of who can be IN the co-op. Everybody with a brush and an easel? Or do we jury in the members? And how much for dues? And what commission if anything ever sells? And how do you work the payback for sitting the store? And bylaws … oh yeah, gotta have rules and all that arguable rigamarole!

Ten minutes into the organizational meeting and you got total chaos. Artists vs.craftsmen. Volunteers vs. the Big Names. Rule makers vs. bohemians. Capitalists vs. hedonists. Believe me, you need to carry a weapon. Hopefully you won’t need to use it, but it’s best to be prepared. You think art is a spectator sport, you’d be at risk.

So yeah, we’ve flirted with the notion of an Art Co-op. About as likely as a Sunni-Shi-ite dance studio, you ask me. That’s why we pay galleries a 40-50% commission. To save lives, if nothing else — and probably worth every cent.

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