Art auctions can be a humiliating experience for donating artists.

*I originally wrote and published this post in 2013, but the issue still plagues me, and only seems to be getting worse.  This time of year, requests for donations are more frequent, and I know many of my artist friends can relate.

There are many blog posts already written about the many reasons for artists to stop donating to benefit art auctions.  I recommend this one: http://joannemattera.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-i-will-not-donate-to-your-auction.html

But, there is another aspect of the art auction experience that is harder to explain.  I will try. Attending art auctions to which I have donated my artwork has felt a little bit humiliating.  I think if I were a more established artist it would be different, as attendees and organizers may treat those artists with some level of respect - even celebrity.  But as an emerging artist, it can be very uncomfortable.

I've donated to small and large organizations, and each event has a completely different character, but the dynamic of predominately struggling artists donating items of a very personal nature to be bid on by people with discretionary income is the same every time.  Let me reiterate that art is very personal to the artist.  It's like taking your dreams and putting them up for everyone to see and bid on.

Sometimes we are not even invited to the event.  We are not present to meet potential bidders, discuss our process and techniques, or connect with the collector in any way.  The first time I donated to a benefit, that was the case.  I donated a $100 gift certificate toward a commission to support a children's museum, even though I couldn't afford a membership for my own child.  The winning bidder sent me an anonymous email requesting a piece of work at the $100 value.  They did not want me to know their name and requested that I drop off the completed work at the museum so that we wouldn't have to meet in person.  That was rather unsettling.

For several years, I donated to the foundation for my alma mater, and I did get to attend the event.  They never included background information about the artists so, one year, I approached the high bidder of my artwork to introduce myself.  She looked at me like I had just asked what kind of sexual position she prefers and excused herself.  I still wonder why she bought the art?  And who was she?  Artists like to connect with the new owners of their art.

Last year, I donated work of a higher value to a local arts organization.  The required opening bid was for the actual retail value of the piece.  I still have it.  It is disheartening that artists making below minimum wage will donate to a cause, but supporters with solid incomes will usually not match the value.  And it feels really crummy to donate your work for charity, and have it not sell.  I was at the home of a collector one time who showed me a piece of mine he had acquired at one of these benefits for a fraction of the value.  He was very proud, and had no idea that the experience was degrading for me.  "Look!  I bought this $800 artwork of yours for only $200!  Isn't that great?"

And finally, at the higher-end art auctions, such as an art museum, there is a very obvious divide between the haves and have-nots in attendance.  I've given my artwork (through a juried process, by the way) to a museum each year for its fundraiser, which is a swanky party with great food and an open bar.  Guests wear formal attire and it is common to overhear, "What are you wearing?" in reference to the designer.  The donating artists, who can't afford to bring a date, slowly identify each other by the lesser quality of their clothing.  Artists and bidders are seated together at tables, but conversation is awkward.  "You must be an artist!", someone will say, looking me up and down. Last year, a woman commented, "You are so brave to wear that outfit here,"  (referring to my secondhand dress and boots).  Trying to be funny, I said, "You wait.  Next year everyone will be dressed like this."  "No," she said.  "They won't."

So, I had a nice meal and free booze, and watched my $800 piece sell for $140 and drove home thinking I probably wouldn't donate to any more auctions.  The fact is, I can't afford memberships to these organizations or tickets to their events.  When I tried to have my jewelry displayed at the museum, I was rejected outright.  They didn't even want to see it.  During the first few years of donating to auctions, I felt altruistic, but increasingly, I just feel taken advantage of.

Here's me at an art auction.  I do have a drink and a name tag. But, sadly, I am lacking a companion or social skills.

I do still donate small items to local organizations whose missions resonate for me.  They are not targeting artists, exclusively, to provide donations.  They generally don't invite me to their events, but their budgets are very low, so I don't expect it.  I can give something small and feel ok about it, and I know it helps a little bit.

The blog post I linked to at the beginning does offer some suggestions for changing the yucky relationship between artists and fundraising auctions, and I hope some organizers start paying attention.  If I can split the take with the organization, I am more likely to donate something of higher value and feel like I received something for my work.  If they put some effort into promoting me and my work by giving bidders a lot of good information and posting a link to my website online, it shows respect, adds some benefit for me, and is more likely to generate higher bids, which is a win/win.  Making sure the artists have name tags so that bidders can ask questions makes a huge difference.  And treating the artists as if their contribution is at least as valuable as the money being raised is vital.  Welcome us and talk to us, introduce us to potential bidders, and for Pete's sake, give us a glass of wine if it's a cash bar and we can't afford it.  It's no fun being a socially awkward artist attending an event alone, standing in a corner without a drink and not knowing anyone in the room, waiting for someone to bid on your artwork.  A little extra effort might make it a less painful experience.

*2023 update: I am now more established and I still don't contribute to art auctions. Instead I donate a portion of art sales and commissions to causes I care about. Sometimes I create work for the express purpose of donating the profit to a specific cause. It feels far more rewarding and empowering.

Custom Mosaic Accents for Homes by JK Mosaic / Jennifer Kuhns

Custom tile mosaic entryway.

Stained glass window mosaic.

Shower mosaic being fabricated in the studio.

Mosaic shower accent installed.

Detail of fish swimming mosaic in custom shower.

Tree with birds installed in custom shower.

Mosaic on stair risers.

Mosaic mirror backsplash.

Mosaic mirror backsplash over kitchen sink.

Detail of mirror mosaic backsplash.

Mosaic Murals by JK Mosaic

Custom Murals by Jennifer Kuhns at JK Mosaic, LLC

Photorealistic mural in Broadway Plaza, Walnut Creek, CA

Panels are assembled in my studio, and transported to the mural location to be installed.  Installation typically takes under 3 days.

Each piece of glass is hand-cut and placed into the composition.

This lavender farm photo was printed to scale, then mapped out in my studio.

Completed panels being installed on location in Alpharetta, GA by me and my trusty assistant, Krystie Rose Millich.

Installation completed within a day and a half.

The finished mosaic, made of stained glass, sparkles in the sun.

This project, from 2009, was created for the Federal Way Senior Center in Federal Way, WA to celebrate their community garden and food bank.

Here is the project, installed by a carpenter.

This project was completed by young children at Les Gove Park in Auburn, WA in one day.

Most of the children were from local preschools, and a few older kids joined in as well.

Completed glass mosaic community mural.

A Mosaic Artist Gets a Tour of Austin

My previous post was about my first day exploring Austin, looking for mosaic.  The following day was even better.  Here's what happened:

Suvi invited me to brunch with James Talbot, whose mosaic sculpture had knocked my socks off the day before.  I also remembered that I had read about Talbot's home in one of my magazines, and had kept that copy for inspiration, so I was very excited.  We met at El Mercado, which was perfect because the whole place is full of big, chunky, colorful mosaic.

After eating, Suvi offered to drive us around the area to visit some of Talbot's work, along with other interesting buildings and creative projects.

We saw a giant chicken by Faith with a fancy-last-name-I-can't-remember:

Talbot made these amazing garden beds and a sink for a community garden:

We passed a "mosaic" made with cans and a hubcap on a cafe, by Talbot:

We drove by too many cool houses and spots to list.  And we finally visited Casa Neverlandia, the home of James Talbot.  Here we are approaching the front door:

Yes, we planned our outfits.

Here are a few of my snapshots from Casa Neverlandia:

At the front door, you talk into the pipe, and he can hear and respond from several spots inside the house!

Relief work. 

This tower is in the back yard.  You walk from a balcony across the narrow bridge, and can slide down a fireman's pole.

View from the tower.

In the studio.

Another area of the studio.

Oh, and here's an outdoor shower Talbot made for a private home:

He did the rock work and built that incredible shower.

A peek inside.

There's a sink.

That's Suvi.

There was more.  We visited the Monroe Bridge, dedicated to a local musician.  I went for fro-yo at a shop downtown that is covered in mosaic.  Suvi and I saw a movie, then continued to visit mosaic in the Downtown area, and stopped at Barton Springs that night before I headed back to my room.  It was a magical day, but I'm too tired to keep writing about it.  Hopefully, I'll find time soon to write another post with images from the second half of the day, because Suvi showed me some very impressive work.  Thanks for reading!

A Mosaic Artist Wanders Around Austin

My workshop with Katerina Pinosova wrapped up in three days, leaving me two and a half days to explore Austin, TX for the first time.  I wasn't sure where to start, so I headed to Blue Moon Glass Supply, because it came up in a search for mosaic in Austin.  There, I met Jim and Rose, and they made me a list of sites to visit, along with the names and contact information for two local artists.

The first mosaic I found was in Shipe Park at a public pool.  It is called "Day in the Park" and was a community project.  I love the design!

From there, I drove to Deep Eddy Pool.  They charged a fee to enter the pool, and I'm cheap, so I took these photos through the fence:

That was another community project commemorating the history of the park.  I couldn't get close enough to the plaque to give proper credit.  It is much bigger than my photos depict.

I continued to walk on the path past the pool and it led me along the Colorado River.  It was a lovely walk, full of people out enjoying nature.  It was there that I began to fully appreciate the city of Austin.

I took this from the bike/pedestrian bridge that crosses the river.

From there, I found a sculpture called "Your Essential Magnificence" made by James Talbot.  I had not felt certain how I wanted to use my new concrete sculpture skills until this point.  I needed to see more work like this.

It was past lunchtime by then, so I stopped at the Magnolia Cafe, just around the corner.  From there, I called the two artists on my list and left awkward messages.  I had never done anything quite like it before, calling strangers in a strange town to ask if I can visit.  Suvi Aika called back immediately, and she was less than two miles away, so I went in search of her home: Casa Wonderlandia.

My photos don't express the magic of Suvi's home.  There are Wonderland-themed accents all around.  The exterior walls of her house have large gears mounted on them.  (I learned later that they light up at night.)  She has landscaped the alleyway next to her house and created a little fairyland.  The photos above include things around her home, and a project she created at a local elementary school for their courtyard.

When I left Suvi's house, I visited a project at Barton Springs Elementary that is fantastic.  A short, but long retaining wall is covered in handmade tiles and glass celebrating Austin and the neighborhood.

I tried to find one more location after that, but a stalled train blocked my path.  I was saturated anyway, so I headed back to my room in Lakeway to process my experience.

I'm stopping here for now, but the next day was even more fantastic, so stay posted!