Faustian temptations

I think that we all understand, in our own way, that some galleryists seem to gather in glans, schools or shivers (like the Sharks they are) where auctions and money is concerned. The mere whiff of an underpriced Artwork, be it a Jeff Koons, Vincent Van Gogh or Andy Warhol sends these predators into paroxysms of bloodlust, forever seeking the Golden Goose, or is that gilded painting. 

Mixing with Ministers and publishers has the very same effect on others, the lesser, but no less nasty, beasts of prey, for they sniff the rare air of privilege, plump themselves up and let it all go to their vacuous, greasy haired, heads. These wannabe galleryists, who frequently have little knowledge of Art, do nothing for the cause of Art, but wheeler deal in auctions, or brokerages, to line their own pockets, frequently at the expense of Artists and creatives.

One must beware of their assumed friendliness. Potential predators spy their prey and beam benevolence. They spend some time testing the water. After a waiting while, they offer a partnership. You will have apprehensions, instincts niggling, but beams of bonhomie overcome those apprehensions, you are hooked, reeled in ready for the slaughter.

Montebanks, sharks and bilkers abjure paperwork, for they understand that paper trails may lead to their downfall, forgetting that emails and Facebook messages too have their own trails. Verbal agreements made, and hands shaken mean nothing to these charlatans, for they are merely words in the air or sweat on a palm, with no more significance for them than that. They rant about signatures on paper, paper proof of verbal contracts that they have no intention of honouring. Commitments are not worth the paper they are not written on. Repayment of debts incurred for their enterprises are scorned, denied. These false men would rather play the Sophist and twist words to their own ends, and profit. Your work undertaken yields no wherewithal, despite entreaties, debts remain unrecovered, friendship broken, for what, mere narcissism and their yen for filthy lucre.

It is a hard lesson. The sharks swim, malevolent minnows scratch and scrape, each seeking a pure soul to take advantage of. Let them not. Beware those empty smiles, the Faustian temptations of brotherhood and glory, they are wraiths, poisons for your soul. Remain true only to yourself, hold your head high and renounce those Devils incarnate.

The pure heart, the creative soul needs not the corrupt galleryist or broker, let them sink back into the hellish morass from which they came, do not give them credence nor stature nor power over you. Listen not to their empty promises. Seek only the kind and grateful galleryist who empowers and enables, grows with the Artist or creative, not the cheat and the liar. It is a long journey, but be stalwart and true to your vision, and let your heart remain pure.