Bread and Roses

Last week babysis challenged the Sassistas!^TM to dish about the record $86.3 million paid for a 1976 Francis Bacon triptych (pictured above) that had been expected to sell for about $16 million less. The sale occurred May 14th at a Sotheby's contemporary art auction where collectors dropped a historic $362 million. Fortune called it, "a sign that for dealers and gallery owners, good times are still rolling. The sky may be falling on the economy, but the art market is flying high."

Contrast that news with this news a week later from the Washington Post (5/23/08):

In the weeks since a cyclone laid waste to Burma's delta region and an earthquake devastated a central Chinese province – catastrophes that collectively left 184,000 people dead or missing and displaced millions – Americans have donated an estimated $57 million to disaster relief charities as of yesterday.

$86.3 million for one painting. $57 million for 184,000 people dead or missing or displaced. Somethin' ain't right, right?

Babysis challenged us to dish because she knows Flannista takes great pride in her collection of original art. She knows that Flannista buys art before a new wardrobe or new bathroom towels. Why? Because supporting artists by purchasing their work and displaying it in her home fundamentally and mysteriously heals her. How does Flannista reconcile her struggle between helping those less fortunate and helping herself? She tithes 10% of her annual income to charities and another 10% to support the arts. Her trade-off is an out-dated wardrobe and a dining room table purchased 30 years ago for 15 bucks that functions mostly to prop art.

Is the $86.3 million Bacon painting healing its new owner? Would looking at it soothe grieving parents in China? As much as she wants to, Flannista won't judge. Perhaps she's a hypocrite. Or perhaps art has played a role in healing her, like all the arts can and will . . . as they did 16 years ago in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia:

At 4 pm on May 27, 1992, while waiting for bread in one of the last functional bakeries in the city, 22 people were instantly killed by a mortar shell. Vedran Smailovic, principal cellist of the Sarajevo Opera, looked out his window to find flesh, blood, bone and rubble splattered over the area. He was neither a politician nor a soldier. What could he do about the war? But he was an artist. For 22 days after that -- at 4 pm -- Smailovic walked to the middle of the street where the massacre had occurred. Dressed formally, as for a performance, he sat on a battered camp stool placed in the crater made by the mortar shell, his cello in his hands, and played music. Around him, mortar shells and bullets flew. But he did what he did best, he gave what he gave best – the sound of music that perhaps for a moment would drown out the sound of war.

Comments

[half-a-sista]

Flannista, dear heart, continue to support the arts, continue to use the 30-year-old dining table for art propping, and continue tithing your 10% to charities, but don't continue to concern yourself with people donating a combined total of $57 million to Burma (officially Myanmar) and to the earthquake victims in China while someone spent $86.3 million for a tryptich by someone I thought died around Shakespeare's time. Who knew that Francis Bacon painted?

We choose to spend $720 million dollars A DAY on the war in Iraq and between $13 and $26 million dollars A DAY on our forgotten war in Afghanistan. We haven't spent that much money on Americans in years.

Oh, almost forgot, we spent $760 million (money loaned to us by the Chinese) to give "economic stimulus payments" (kids, can we say "scam"?) to Americans to spend on Chinese products which will then make it possible for the Chinese to take care of the earthquake victims in China, Myanmar and New Orleans...not a small chunk of change, but a big disaster in itself.

Support the arts. No one else is. I'm sure that Francis Bacon (who must be dead after 300 years) or his heirs will find good uses for the money received from the sale of the painting. Maybe they will spend it on buying Chinese products too.

[Flannista]

half-a-sista: there are two famous or infamous Francis Bacons. One lived during the 16th-17th centuries and was an English philosopher, statesman and essayist, known as a proponent of the "scientific revolution." The other Francis Bacon is the artist whose work is featured in this post. This Bacon was born in 1909 and died in 1992 -- and get this: at the time of his death, his total estate was worth about $21 million. This one painting of his sold for more than four times his entire estate -- which he left to his good friend, John Edwards (not the former Democratic presidential candidate!).

Interestingly, the Post article about how much Americans have donated to the Chinese and Burma tragedies was actually about how LITTLE we have contributed compared to other disasters. It went on to posit that the challenging economy and "disaster fatigue" are just getting to us. I know it's getting to me. I'm thankful that the art in my house lifts my spirits. Afternoon naps seem to be helping, too.

[PEACEsista]

This could have been two seperate posts. The arts depend on patrons to support them. There are many fabulously wealthy art collectors who have also established charitable foundations and donate millions of dollars a year to their causes of choice (i.e. Bill and Melinda Gates to education and health.)

Interesting that you've featured the cellist, as many symphony orchestras are struggling to survive. Without endowed foundations many might have collapsed, including my city's. Many people in my community will spend money on a CD or a movie, but not for a symphony ticket. They do not have a taste for the music. The same is probably true of Francis Bacon's painting. There are those who wouldn't spend a dime for it. Museum's often count on wealthy patrons to purchase significant pieces of art and then loan or donate them to the museum. It is a win-win situation: We all benefit from the fine collections in museums and the patron likely gets a tax break.

Charity, however, seldom hinges on one generous gift, especially in regard to disaster, but, depends on millions of people doing what they can. As a member of a church, I know that ours could not survive without pledges of support from most of the members. It's also not just about money. Countless human volunteer hours are necessary to keep this world ship afloat.

So, it's not either/or ... it's about supporting what you love and what is meaningful to you. You, Flannista, already do that beautifully.

[Miss Missasista]

As someone who leads a very simple life, I have never had the resources to purchase fine jewelry, art work, etc. I do own, however, a goldmine in original artwork from my children. That is what hangs in my apartment. That is one of the things that heals me. Another thing that heals me is helping others that are less fortunate. I don't believe that grieving parents in China would be "soothed" looking at Bacon's $86.3 million painting. I've looked at it for a long time and can't even begin to understand what it means. I'm uncertain as to how to comment on today's post. I can only say that my heart is breaking for all the victims in China and Burma. And what I can't count in money, I can count 1000 fold in blessings.

[babysis]

Thanks Flannista, for taking my challenge. I left it wide open for you to discuss, and you made a moving plea for supporting the arts. I admire your heart and eye for art that heals. I also appreciate the genuine passion of those who have commented.

The record setting art purchase got me thinking though. Do we try to resist the urge to judge because it's art? Do we elevate its healing properties above those of a huge yacht, employing more people and producing more jobs (hopefully not all related to China)? Compare both to the healing properties of a conversation over coffee with a good friend.

Is it okay that my judgment about how someone spends their money is almost entirely based on whether they can afford it? I'd love to see this discussed as a matter of individual choice and whether or to whom we are accountable.

How we spend our money (and time, energy, etc.) says everything about us. Do we value prestige, power, security, adventure, service, pleasure, etc? Perhaps we know that things won't last, but we want to use and enjoy them to reach towards the eternal. Surely art can have such transcendent elements. I'm just thankful a small piece of dark chocolate can also.

[half-a-sista]

Babysis, you can have all of the dark chocolate as long as you save me all the milk chocolate. We could make it through a bag of mini-bars with no problems.

Flannista didn't tell us the whole story. The auction, at which Francis Bacon's triptych (not Francis Bacon the writer) sold for $86.3 million, brought in over $350 million from the sale of all the paintings. Several other paintings and sculpture and other art went for $60 million or so.

Why would we judge the people who bought the art or judge the price for which a piece of the artist's creative life was sold? Someone to whom $86.3 million is not a lot of money bought the painting, kind of like me buying a chain saw at the hardware store this weekend. Did I do the right thing by buying the chain saw?

The artist who poured his heart and soul into the work (as explained on various web sites) won't see this money. He is dead. But someone in the world (in France, I think) will be $86.3 million (less commissions and taxes) richer. That's the way it all works. And who knows what that person (or those people) in France will do with this fortune...donate a little, some, a lot to charities? We don't know.

[Westsista]

I think life is so complex and mysterious and unpredictable that its really hard to figure out what to do. Sometimes I look at people who are really accomplished in politics or sports or science, and I wish I had had the focus and dedication to a particular pursuit. But when I think about the people who have made a significant impact on my life, they are mostly people who are picking through life, trying to figure it out as they go on.

I love knowing that art heals you, my dearest Flannista. What heals me is the acceptance, intelligence, creativity, love and kindness of people around me - and you are one of those people (and also the lovely Matissta for that one shining night).

[Flannista]

This conversassion reminds me of two stories, O'Henry's, "The Gift of the Magi," and the anointing of Jesus in the Gospel of John.

Here's the plot summary of the O'Henry story from Wikipedia:

"Jim and Della Dillingham are a young couple who are very much in love with each other, but can barely afford their one-room apartment opposite the elevated train due to their very bad economic condition. For Christmas, Della decides to buy Jim a chain for his prized pocket watch given to him by his father. To raise the funds, she has her prized long hair cut off and sold to make a wig. Meanwhile, Jim decides to sell his watch to buy Della a beautiful set of combs for her lovely, knee-length hair. Although each is disappointed to find the gift they chose rendered useless, each is pleased with the gift they received, because it represents the other's love for them.

"The moral of the story is that physical possessions, however valuable they may be, are of little value in the grand scheme of things. The true unselfish love that the characters, Jim and Della, share is greater than their possessions."

In the Gospel of John story (John 12:1-8), Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with a very expensive perfume. Seeing this, Judas, one of the disciples says, "Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?" The account further reveals that Judas did not say this because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; "he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it." It strikes me too that Judas had a need to declare his piety to everyone in the room which undoubtedly broke the heart of the Teacher he claimed to serve.

My point? Unselfish love -- a conversation over coffee with a good friend -- is always more valuable than possessions, including art. An extravagant show of love, like Mary's, is sometimes necessary, too, particularly since washing the feet of her Teacher was her way of acknowledging (subconsciously? who knows?) his impending death. Would I give away a painting that took 14 monthly payments if I knew it would save a friend's life? In a heartbeat. Would I give it away even if I didn't know? Yes. My beloveds will always trump my beloved art.

I bet you a large piece of dark chocolate that my beloveds would testify how much my art collection has tempered me -- quieted my soul -- made my pessimistic heart a bit more joyful. As Rebecca West said, "I cannot see that art is anything less than a way of making joys perpetual."

And to grieving parents everywhere in the world -- to everyone, actually, I say this: Art is the only thing that can go on mattering once it has stopped hurting. I'm not really sure what that means -- once art stops hurting or once I stop hurting? Doesn't matter. Ask the modern classical composer, John Adams, who composed the chaotically gorgeous choral piece, "On the Transmigration of Souls," to honor the victims of 9/11; ask the painter of two of the paintings hanging in my bedroom, who, dying of brain cancer, painted beautiful nudes of his neurosurgeon. Ask me. I'll tell you: It is truth, truth I see everywhere I look in my home.

[PEACEsista]

Thoughtful comments, babysis, and it caused me to wonder if this is also a nurture/nature question. Are some people born more generous and compassionate than others or are people raised to be that way?

I grew-up in a family where volunteerism was like breathing ... more an involuntary reflex ... you just did it and everyone around you was, too. Tithing was like that, also. For me, giving time and money is an expression of gratitude for all that I DO have. I was raised in the Congregational Church, a liberal protestant Christian tradition, and have never felt threatened by hell-fire or damnation. I am, however, inspired and influenced by the teachings of Jesus, such as the parables of the "talents" and the "good sassmaritan."

As for art, I was raised with it. My mother was a patron of the arts and of artists and a volunteer at the Art Institute of Chicago. It is a love I inherited, along with some of her paintings and jewelry. I suppose others discover art in different ways. For me, art (and music) soothe and nourish the soul in a delicious way ... not unlike a small piece of dark chocolate.

I, too, would "love to see this discussed as a matter of individual choice and whether or to whom we are accountable." For me, it's not about accountability, or even keeping track at all. It's a gratitude practice.

[babysis]

How about Westsista does a post about the lovely Matissta for that one shining night? Did you think we'd just let that one go? I'm kidding, sort of.

[babysis]

Thanks PEACEsista, for your comments and for revealing a little more about yourself. With any moniker, I still want you for my mentor/mama.

[Flannista]

babysis -- I'll ask Westsista about your next request for a post -- seriously, I will.

While walking the dog and wishing I could appreciate beauty the way he does -- he always seems so surprised and full of wonder -- two words came to me: "Babette's Feast." That movie pretty much sums up how I view art.

And let me take off my art patron hat for a minute and put on my hat of judgment. Yachts are not works of art to me, though they may be to Tork Buckley, and may employ lots of folks and actually may house lots of fine art. The ones docked at Cannes undoubtedly housed several Picassos. Does art belong on a yacht? Will a Picasso in the State Room of the Lady Linda temper unnecessary luxury and inspire necessary giving? What do you think?

[Matissta]

I'm so intrigued with the different perspectives everyone has brought to the post today. Thank you all. Another good conversation.

BTW, babysis, the evening I spent with Westsista is between us and about 8 other people. (I've really peaked your curiosity, haven't I?...)

[Flannista]

Matissta -- I think you mean "piqued," though that evening was quite a high point.

[Flannista]

Miss Missasista -- one of the loveliest pieces of art I own was drawn by your oldest son. He GAVE it so me. I couldn't believe it, because I was quite willing to pay him for it. But it is now beautifully framed and hanging in my bedroom near the other paintings I mentioned in another comment. So you are right, you have a gold mine of art in your home!