2011  | Out on a Limb |  1800 x 980 x 230  |  Carl Roberts Home Gallery, South Africa

2011  |  Scrap |  245 x 125 x 110  |  Carl Roberts Home Gallery

2011  |  Old Man of the Sea |  410 x 800 x 240  |  Carl Roberts Home Gallery

I think this phenomenon is more pronounced in the art crowd, I am sure you have seen the works that are trying to be clever – they are those that are incomprehensible. Fortunately there is a protocol on such occasions. You hear key words to unlock the enigmatic work whispered by those who appear more informed than you but who have merely preceded you. Once overheard it is your turn to appear knowledgeable and whisper the phrases to the less informed.

There is a hierarchy of cleverness. The academically trained are at the top. Generally, they do not have a saleable product and are beyond comprehension to the “ignorant and uncultured” public. At the bottom are the professional artists who are liked and understood but merely talented. The perception is that talent is innate and has nothing to do with intellect, experience or hard work. These artists are more likely to take the advice of Groucho Marx who said “most of us must compensate for our low intelligence with hard work”. He was no fool.

The history of education in the arts has a lot to do with the end result. In the distant past artists trained apprentices who started their careers by grinding and mixing paints. Later the teaching of artists moved to the academies and art schools. Here, copying the masters was a common practice and paint came in tubes. More recently art education moved into universities. It is not surprising then that the art produced has been influenced by the ivory tower and become more theoretical in nature.

Traditional painting, sculpture and the manual labour that they entail has been thrown out in favour of conceptual art. Artists have become art directors who orchestrate assistants, technicians and engineers and make things like installations. The projects are often large and impressive but surely the credit should go to the engineer and assistants. It reminds me of a quote by A H Weiler “Nothing is impossible for the man who doesn’t have to do it himself”. It is even easier for the artist if his work is funded by the public purse.

It seems then that there are two kinds of art and artists. There are the paint pushers, mud muckers and sawdust suckers who, like me, enjoy playing in the dirt and the cerebral artists who do not expect to get their hands dirty. They appear to have more advantages because being academically trained they have the paper credits and gain employment. Then, while comfortably employed, are able to apply for grants. This enables them to study, publish or exhibit and travel overseas and make works of art. All of which is good for the C.V. and obtaining more grants. Sales are unnecessary and even regarded with suspicion. Their measure of success is the amount of controversy they stir up. Not surprisingly they are envied by the career artist but ignored by a disinterested public.

In contrast, the professional artist must make a product and sell it in order to live. He or she needs to be technically skilled and hard working. Usually they are a one man band counting on commercial galleries and depending on the public for support. Ironically, if they are successful, it is often regarded as proof that they have compromised their principles for financial gain.

It would seem that the academic artists are winning this game hands down except for their relationship with the public. Now, with the recession, their position is less comfortable. Where countries have had to cut budgets they have chosen the arts as an easy target. Despite the wailing and gnashing of teeth, Britain has slashed 20% off its arts budget. I imagine within those budgets they will try and retain jobs and as a result it will be the grants that are most affected.

Cleverness comes in many forms, some are more in fashion than others; it is when it is coupled with hard work that it is most fertile. Mixing colours turns out not to be so simple. It requires talent. I know, as I have a wife who does it everyday mending ceramics and she is particularly good at it. She has clients from three different continents that have great respect for her ability and she is not feeling the recession. Since she is my spouse I must use the word talent instead of intellect. It relegates her job to one of manual labour and helps me to retain a semblance of control.

Regards,
Carl

New work

      2011  | Old Man of the Sea |  245 x 125 x 110  |  Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

     2011  | Scrap |  880 x  2100  x  360  |  Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

     2011  | Out on a Limb |  1800 x 980 x 230  |  Carl Roberts home gallery, South Africa

Built in Salisbury, Wiltshire in 1880 as a grain mill, FISHERTON MILL is now the south of England’s largest independent art gallery. Spread over three floors and a courtyard the Gallery retains many of the Mill’s original features, which makes for a very unique setting.

Contact: Pat Gavin or Tony Tate
Telephone: 01722 415121

Website: http://www.fishertonmill.co.uk
Email: thegallery@fishertonmill.co.uk
Address: 108 Fisherton Street, Salisbury, Wiltshire, SP2 7QY, United Kingdom

There is something about this image, a frog in a football match, which rings true of my own life. I failed matric and should have been forced to flip hamburgers for the rest of my life. However with luck and bluff I manage to skip that career and get into Rhodes University. I went on to lecture and eventually took that leap of faith to become an artist. As an artist I have always done well and have not had to make compromises. I have not had to work in a pub as I expected nor have I been forced to take on students or any other jobs to make ends meet. I have survived by sculpting alone. Not many artists can say that but what was difficult has been aggravated by the recession. To quote an article in Art Times “the game has changed”. It has been tough for everyone in the arts. Many galleries, including three that I have used, have closed their doors. Artists, I know, have been crushed and forced to take “real jobs”.

Art is the first thing off the shopping list when things are difficult and we have felt this recession. We have had to make do, recycle, reuse and use up. We were already well into the swing of things when it came to the holidays. We had been eating up our store of baked beans and the other weevil riddled extras stored over many years in our pantry. We did not go on holiday the previous year. This year, despite a poor bank balance, my wife was determined to go on holiday and when I hesitated she became more belligerent than usual. I was forced to negotiate. The compromise we came to was to go to Kenton for a short time and on a budget. That meant no flights, no Landcruiser, no kitchen sink, and no big fishing rods. We would travel in the Yaris which is economical but it has a very, very small boot. The holiday became know as “Survivor Kenton”.

Now, I get the feeling that the recession is slowly abating. Confidence is creeping back into the market. Perhaps it is because of the rally in the stock market and the record prices reached on the art auctions held recently. It is reflected in the number of options on works that are still unfinished in my studio. This recession has also been a time that art has proved its worth as an alternative investment. Most reassuring was that the only asset of Lehman Brothers that held its value when it was auctioned off in the “fire sale” was their art collection. The recession has taught me many valuable lessons. Among these are the value of established galleries, the benefit of being diversified and the need for a reservoir of cash.

My wife, the organiser of Survivor Kenton, only allowed us to take one pair of socks, one pair of underpants, one pair of jeans and a couple of tee shirts and what we were wearing on the day. Of course, all of that does not apply to the organiser who has a separate suitcase just for her make up. All the abstemiousness suits me because I like living in my costume and an old tee shirt. The fact it smells like bait is, well, according to me, just natural. What caused anxiety was that there was no room for my big fishing rods and I began to wonder if the holiday was going to be a holiday at all.

In the end, like the fortunate frog who hopped into the caring hands of a little boy, Survivor Kenton was the right thing to do. The weather was great, my wife managed without the kitchen sink, I manage to squeeze in a tiny rod that can be disassembled and even caught a few fish. Granny bought Jack the smallest, cheapest rod and reel in the shop and that was all that he needed. Lily and Joanna were happy to play in the pools and to catch a tan. We had a great time, we got the rest and respite we required after a difficult year and there was no own goal as far as the finances were concerned. In fact when we got home I learned that I had sold several works. The saying goes that there is no gain without pain. The recession was stressful and difficult and as a result I have learnt many useful things that will serve me well in the future. By contrast the hurt I felt in Kenton was inflicted by my son and will not serve me in any way. It was as cruel as the frog in a liquidiser joke. (What is green and goes red at the flick of a switch?)

While I pranced around with my superior equipment, years of experience and finely honed skills, he and that token rod caught more and bigger fish than I. Perhaps I should console myself with the thought that sometimes, like the frog on the football field, you are just lucky.

Regards
Carl

New work

   2011  | Red Sea |  880 x  2100  x  360  |  Ebony Gallery – Franschoek, South Africa

   2011  |  Shadow Stalker |  170 x  910  x  90  |  Carl Roberts home gallery

   2011  |  Heron |  1000 x 380 x 180  |  Carl Roberts home gallery

   2011  |  Cow |  145 x 315 x 140  |  Sold

2011  |  Cow |  145 x 315 x 140  |  Sold

2011  |  Heron |  1000 x 380 x 180  |  Carl Roberts home gallery

2011  | Red Sea |  880 x  2100  x  360  |  Ebony Gallery – Franschoek, South Africa

2011  |  Shadow Stalker |  170 x  910  x  90  |  Carl Roberts home gallery