The ARTISTA In Me

I believe that each of us has an appreciation for art. Perhaps it begins as a child with a box of crayolas and an inexplicable desire to try to stay within the lines or even mix the colors and forms into unique expressions. I believe that there exists a small percentage of people with DNA embedded talent that can actually create with abandon and self expression. These are the true artists and only a choice few are so blessed. Alas, I am not one of them. For the rest of us, all is not lost. We can embrace the joy of a painting, the nuances of a sculpture. We can choose to explore the history of art through the ages, to educate ourselves in the lives and works of noted artists. We can ultimately elevate such appreciation so that it defines how we live. I am one of those who chose to whole heartedly immerse herself in the bounty of beauty.  In this path of discovery, I learned that the world explodes with possibilities.

Four years ago, unable to find a job after being laid off, and, quite honestly, worn down by the interview process of endless networking and rejection (in spite of qualifications and experience that went beyond the criteria of most positions), I decided it was time for me to start my own business. I married my love of art into a company that I called “ARTISTA”. I told myself it would take me gracefully and creatively into my old age. It would be the rest of my life, perfect job.

What was ARTISTA? In short, I merged my years of working in high tech, recognized the changing landscape of retail sales, and, most importantly, embraced my love of art.

A+B+C=my new business.

I would offer fine works and elevate the consumer’s appreciation into the sophisticated world of fine art. I would represent artists from all over the world and offer the ability to purchase their pieces on line. I would launch campaigns that included live installations as well as presentations to groups with the desire to begin or continue “collecting”.

In many ways the concept was paradigm shifting and masterfully strategic. It proved exciting to meet and screen exceptional artists. I got better and better at it as the years went on. It was challenging yet fulfilling to speak with clients and groups and share my, well I know this word is overused but it fits here, “passion”. It was exciting to seek out marketing arenas and ultimately produce art shows in such cities as New York, Denver, and San Francisco…targeting markets that I thought would offer established or potential demographics eager to buy. My vision seemed boundless.






ARTISTA VIDEO from Denise Webster on Vimeo.

The scope of the company seemed to grow and move along rapidly. Philanthropic causes were introduced to further induce purchases and to embrace a more global perspective. The quality of the art kept growing. I worked harder - schlepping art in taxi’s and on the subway, speaking to people whenever I was asked or could create an opportunity. I relentlessly showcased the growth and the glory.

And so now…here was the downside. There were countless doubters (“Who buys art on-line?” If I heard that one more time, I thought I would scream. But I simply smiled and launched into what was becoming a rote response). There were the artists with ego driven outbursts, disappearing episodes, and outlandish demands. There were customers who thought the art too expensive. There were sleepless, endless nights when even the euphoria of the creation could not sustain the worry. And there were the expenses. It costs money to do business. In my case, it was my savings, my everything. Each decision to spend, each cost was weighed not only from a business revenue perspective but from a very deep fear of running out of money and ending up with nothing. And when you are in the midst of managing the website, bookkeeping, traveling, and trying to envision and execute a business plan…the finances overwhelmed.  I did not see a safety net that could catch me if I fell.

The other challenge, and I will be blunt here…I was terrible at cold calling, hard sales. I could speak articulately but I could not reach the level where I could “entrap” the customer to that place of no return where they had to buy. I saw this shortcoming in myself and tried to hire people with that innate ability to push. The business was too new and unproven for most experienced salespeople to come along and take a risk. Of course, I can hear you thinking, this was a huge professional flaw on my part. This is Sales 101. And you are right. I worked diligently to overcome this but I found myself frustrated and faltering.

Ironically, the moment when all the struggles came together also came at a time that was the culmination of all that was wonderful about ARTISTA. It was summer in New York City and I was there for my second art show. I had tested the waters a year prior with a small show and presentation in a Church on the upper West Side. Before you think I am crazy, the decision was a viable one. The Congregation outreached to artists and helped them transition from homeless to surviving in the real world. The location was in a wealthy community which could potentially draw local support. The Church itself was a work of art. An aging façade rich in architecture with many of their older artifacts (including their once pulpit) proudly on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The show, though not financially profitable, was a great first entrée and only whetted my appetite to return. 

So, the next summer I was back. This time, in the quintessential artist mecca—Chelsea. I booked a gallery for one week. And, as I began the process of shipping, planning the installation, marketing, etc., etc., I was hopeful that this would be the crossroad that would launch ARTISTA into new vistas of prominence and success.

What happened? Amongst the many stories of that week, I tell this the most...

When all the art was up and fabulously displayed, all the beautiful collateral neatly placed, I stood alone in the midst of the gallery. I realized this was mine, this was it. Such an exhilarating moment. Then I looked at all the works and started to do the Math. I calculated that, in the week to follow, I would have to sell every painting, every sculpture, every watercolor standing before me as well as a large percentage of the entire collection on the website to break even. To my surprise, I said to myself, “Well, that ain’t going to happen”. And, standing in the midst of this fabulous brownstone, in this very New York moment, I started to laugh…and laugh…and laugh. “I don’t care. I love the city, the art, the adventure. I love that this happened. And for this week, I am going to bask in this; no one and nothing is going to take this from me”. And, with that, I opened the doors of the gallery and greeted my first guests.  

And I did love every moment of it. I loved speaking to the people who entered. I loved talking about the vision, about the works, about the joy of having art in your life. Every evening I would lock up and walk to the subway or bus stop by myself in the warmth of a summer night. I would look up and see the city skyline. Always, the Empire Building caught my eye—looming and lit like the grandest of ladies, like the best of friends. I found myself talking to her. “I know things must change. But for now, this is the best. This is magic.” 

As you can probably surmise, during the show, I did not sell everything in the gallery or even from the website. I left New York at the end of the summer and “closed” ARTISTA by the end of the year. I tell myself that it was basically a business call. I knew that soon the money would be gone. And, in my case, it was my money. It was my future. I had no choice.

I so often hear that such a decision to end things is not personal, “It’s business”. I actually feel that such an expression is a poor excuse to justify something that cannot be. It coldly nullifies a dream, it ends a dedicated, defining focus. Such a catch-all rationalization allows people to lay off workers, to close family legacies, to crush hopes and  finances. And that is personal. Personal to anyone who has ever lost a job; personal to me. And yes, I was heartbroken.

I will go back to New York. And maybe I will come back to ARTISTA. The concept of on-line shopping is a good one, you know. (Since I started ARTISTA, the landscape of retail is now defined by the internet). I learned a lot of lessons through the evolution and I know what I would do differently. But for now, as I live in Sacramento, I have to figure out a few things…major things.

I still love the beauty of fine art and I firmly believe that most of the world does as well. I still love the immersion in a challenge; the energy and creativity that can spring from the vision of possibilities. And, though there were mistakes along the way, ARTISTA was grand. It was a once in a lifetime job come true. Just ask the lady that is the Empire State Building. She understands. She will tell you.