Don't Tread on Me, © Michael Maurer Smith 2009

Earlier that morning Tony had come upon the anti-tax Tea Party in progress on the state capitol lawn. With the compact Nikon Coolpix P5100 he always carried he’d grabbed a few shots—maybe a couple of good ones he’d thought. So when he arrived at the Supreme Bean he was in a good mood and just in time to snag a table before the Minutemen and their ladies swarmed in.

He watched for some sign of Carmina’s arrival and soon saw that distinctive red patch of hair bobbing in line at the counter. He caught her attention as she was scanning the crowd. She waved and after paying for her Lascivious Latte Grande and two ultra low fat cranberry muffins, she wound her way to the table. “Isn’t this something?” she said as she sat down. “It sure is,” Tony replied.

The anti-tax demonstration had just ended and the Bean was filling with agitated and self-righteous people—some dressed as colonial revolutionaries and carrying “Don’t Tread on Me” flags. This was a noisy and colorful departure from the usual Thursday crowd—not a legislator or lobbyist in the bunch—not a suit to be seen.

“How y’all doin? It was Curran Rule inviting himself to their table. “Fine, and you? asked Tony. Carmina, smiled slightly and said, “Hi Curran.” He sat down.

“Carm, I caught your exhibit at Hanger’s—the one you did on plastic spiders—brilliant, just brilliant,” he said. “Thanks Curran. But it was actually based on plastic rats,” she replied. “Well whatever Carm—I thought it was brilliant,” he replied.

It irritated Carmina when Curran spoke to her with familiarity—calling her Carm. She did not consider him a friend, she considered him an acquaintance and she wanted it to stay that way. She respected him as a designer, but she disliked his narcissistic manner and business is just business attitude. Worse yet he had natural red hair, and she couldn’t forgive him for that.

“Hey did you two read in the City Shout that RFP thing from the Art’s Council—that piece calling for artists to submit proposals for a mural for the new Mackey Municipal building?” Tony asked. Carmina and Curran answered yes. “Well what do you think? You think it’s worth doing? Tony asked them.

Carmina spoke first. “The Shout piece says you submit your design to the Council and they decide a winner. It says the winning piece can’t exceed $1000 in cost AND the council gets all rights to the final work. Well my friends that’s a bunch of crap.” No sooner had she said this than she realized she’d just called Curran a friend.

“I agree with Carmina. It’s crap,” said Curran.

“Yeah, but still, a $1000 bucks isn’t chump change. I mean we could all use that kind of money. Right? And think of the publicity you’ll get if your work hangs in the Mackey. That’s gotta be worth something,” said Tony.

“Well a chump is what a chump does,” Curran replied. And Carmina nodded in agreement.

“Ok then, so explain it to me. What’s so bad about entering this contest?” asked Tony.

Carmina spoke first. “The Doctor charges you for your exam even if you don’t take the recommended treatment. The attorney charges you for every consultation after the first, even if you don’t follow her advice. The architect charges for drawing the plans even if the client decides not to have the house built. The plumber doesn’t audition—professionals charge for their knowledge and time. Yet artists are expected to pay for the privilege of submitting proposals, even actual artwork, to contests that if they win will require them to relinquish all their rights to the work for a pittance—often for no more than a ribbon or certificate! It’s no wonder so many artists are starving—as business people too many of them act like idiots,” She said.

“You go girl,” said Curran. “I’m not a girl,” Carmina retorted. “Whatever—you know what I meant,” Curran replied.

He went on. “In my design practice I charge for concept development—that’s the crux of professional design. That’s what we are paid to do. What the Arts council is asking for here is something America’s most prestigious design organizations, like the American Institute of Graphic Arts, advise their members not to do—work on speculation. Just imagine, you could spend 5, 10 maybe 15 hours developing your concepts, and then spend several more hours working up the polished version of the final concept for submission. Then if your entry wins you will have to spend many more hours doing the final art—all this for $1000! Break that down hourly and you may find yourself working for less than minimum wage.”

“Ok I hear you both, but this isn’t about design or business it’s about a chance to make some art and maybe win a few bucks. It’s not about developing a brand identity for a cereal company. It’s about giving something to the community,” said Tony.

“Really? Well does calling this an Art contest mean the artists should exercise the business sense of a five year old?” asked Curran.

“Asking an artist to develop concepts according to a predetermined set of specifications—and to fix those concepts in visible form and then enter them into a contest according to stated rules without pay, is asking the artist to work on speculation—to gamble—to agree to a non-negotiable business contract. It is a take it or leave it proposition and it bears little resemblance to the artist in the studio initiating and pursuing his or her own projects,” said Curran.

“I agree,” said Carmina, aware of the frustration she felt having to agree with someone she wanted to disagree with. She also felt disappointed that Tony, himself a professional photographer, seemed willing to have artists pit themselves against one another in speculative contests, without compensation and with non negotiable rules. “Where was his sense of artistic integrity, financial self-interest and professionalism? she wondered. 

© Michael Maurer Smith 2009