The Run up to Christmas

Crowded steamy shops and ice covered pavements with tottering shoppers clutching masses of bags. The city was manic and yesterday I could've normally done what I wanted to do in half the time. The commute has turned into over an hour of sliding around in an icy 10 mile queue. The ingredients are all there for a miserable git rant of Dickensian Scrooge proportions.
But for the fact it feels like a proper Christmas. I would skip through the snow coming to the gallery should I not, a) fall flat on my arse and, b) look like a girl. The Manchester markets are brilliant and a few nights ago I sat chatting drinking a beer slowly losing all sensation in my fingers. But it was a discomfort suffered for the greater good of experiencing a country that is exciting and cultured and outdoorsy and ermm german. They have banned outdoor heaters because of a ridiculous notion that they are bad for the environment.
The view out of the gallery is pretty much the same as it would have been in Victorian times and the people coming into the gallery have all been in good spirits. So despite the ball ache of the rush to consume, I'm, in festive cheer. Phillipa was let out of the gallery especially so she could play in the snow she was that excited. She eventually got the teenagers to put down their cider and cigarettes to have a snowball fight. Okay the last bit I am joking but I kind of wished I was a kid again.

I opened up briefly to pick up some artwork for delivery and a few people came in. One of them looked and sounded like Guy Garvey. Bit of a strange one and I'm not even sure it was him but would never come out and ask directly. That's not particularly cool and I like to think of myself as cool in front of celebrities. That way I am more likely to become their best friends.
I hadn't even opened properly and the lights were off but I put them on while they were there. The woman said she had one of Danny Cawley's pieces of art. The conversation didn't go much further than that other than he said the space was great and where was the UGG shop. Guy Garvey likes the gallery, take note people.
We are open till 2m on Christmas eve and there are still people who are buying presents who come into the gallery to buy for themselves. It takes great judgment to buy art for someone else and that's why we offer gift vouchers for the unsure.
Feel free to pop into the gallery and experience the Christmas cheer of the city.

Christmas decoration

I met this woman once in the gallery who got me thinking about the line between art and commerce. We get a lot of artists coming in and coyly dance around the subject before they ask "how do I get my artwork into this place?". It's so obvious but we need to be patient and play out the routine.
She came to Oldham street and said she supplied artwork for new housing companies. 20 or 30 at a time, big bold splashes of colour done in no time at all. She said she sells them for pennies but would like to sell them for more and she could really churn them out. This was the the epitome of decorative art and to be honest made me cringe. A shameless sell out display of sub standard work with little or no thought applied to it except the aim for it to fill a wall, have the right colours and sell. Like an X Factor cover song, fatuous art like this has its place but not in a gallery like mooch.

I used to work for a large catalogue company who went through a huge change and a new CEO who gave us a big presentation at the Odeon cinema in the Printworks. This guy highlighted the products on sale that make a mankini seem like a great choice of beachwear. A sculpture of an elephant with a glass table on top came up onto the cinema screen which was greeted with giggles from everyone. The buyer I was sat next to sank into his seat, saying "but they are my best seller". It was truly crap.

Some stuff is rubbish to start with but also when something or someone starts becoming popular there is always a bit of a backlash against their popularity. They are accused of selling out and lose a bit of their credibility if they find out their parents are into them. I was in M&S last week and picked up a jumper, I was lying it against chest when a doddering pensioner came and picked up THE SAME JUMPER. We even made eye contact and he gave me a knowing nod. Mortified, I vowed to shop in places where this kind of person was not. With original art you realise you won't have this issue.

So I ask where should you draw the line in an art gallery? We see lots of art which is impressive and of good quality but its not the kind of thing people will want to buy. It feels bad especially when you know they have talent. People would just look at the work like they would a transvestite. Curious, but not really interested in being a part of it.
I guess the dividing line is when people look at the art and consider whether the work will fit in with the colour scheme of the room they are wanting to hang it in. Its not a problem if people look at work with a view to it fitting in. That makes sense but It shouldn't be the overriding factor.

Fine art should be created purely for their imaginative, aesthetic or intellectual content.
Collectors come into the gallery and people have bought art and then decided where it should go. It's one of the best moments of this job when someone completely and totally falls in love with a piece and buys it with absolutely no idea where it will be hung. To own a piece of art for love rather than its function is a beautiful thing.