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The New Face of Patronage
Suzanne Mcgee
12/01/2005
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Self-Dealers Patronage began to fall out of favor in the late 19th and
early 20th centuries for good reason. Art patrons-cum-dealers frequently
promoted artists in order to drive up the market value of their own holdings.
Theo van Gogh is perhaps the best remembered of these men, but many operated in
this fashion. In 1912, modernist art dealer and collector Henry-David Kahnweiler
structured a formal contract with Pablo Picasso, under which the Parisian dealer
would pay the artist a monthly stipend in exchange for a certain number of new
works.
TOP VIEW Anyone can acquire a piece of art or write a check to a cultural
institution that offers paid access to a patrons circle. But few art devotees
possess the motivation, vision and capital to become true patrons. Unlike their
classicist Renaissance counterparts, today’s art patrons focus on gaining
recognition for artists and their works by providing financial and career
support. But patronage is not without its risks. Patrons sometimes conflict with
art experts who view them as moneyed dilettantes, and they must avoid the
perception that they are promoting budding artists for their own financial gain. | This trend of self-dealing reached its zenith (or its nadir, perhaps)
in the 1990s in the personage of advertising executive Charles Saatchi. He
became known for buying the works of promising young British artists—sometimes
entire collections in bulk—at discount prices, the artists hoping that Saatchi’s
interest would ignite their careers. Saatchi suffered a much-publicized rift
with one of these artists, Damien Hirst, who felt that his work was being
exploited as a tourist attraction at Saatchi’s gallery. Hirst eventually
reacquired his art from Saatchi, reportedly for hundreds of times more than
Saatchi originally paid.
Rosenkranz, chairman of insurer Delphi Financial
Group, and manager of hedge fund Acorn Capital Management, is determined to make
sure that no one perceives his efforts as motivated by financial self-interest,
fearing that if it happens, no one will take Mu Xin or his work seriously. First
he purchased Mu Xin’s entire series for his private foundation. Then came the
hard work of cultivating academia. Rosenkranz provided funding to Yale
University and other institutions to have scholars study Mu Xin’s art. From his
efforts grew an exhibition of the ink series compiled by the Yale Art Gallery
and the University of Chicago’s Smart Museum. The show traveled to the Honolulu
Academy of Arts and the Asia Society in New York in 2003. Underwritten by the
Rosenkranz Foundation, the two university galleries published a lavish 150-page
catalog of the landscapes and 66 calligraphic sheets Mu Xin had done in prison.
 |  | | SHONNA VALESHA'S photography from Alexandra’s Garden. Top: Jack in the Pulpit V.1. Bottom: Oriental Poppy. (Photography by Shonna Valeska 2005.) | Rosenkranz estimates his total outlay on the venture reached $450,000.
“It was a pretty serious undertaking, but worth every penny,” he maintains.
“Today, anyone interested in contemporary Chinese art knows of Mu Xin and his
work.”
After the exhibition, Rosenkranz donated the works to Yale. Although
Mu Xin has recently begun to produce a new series of smaller images, too few
have reached the market to gauge the impact of Rosenkranz’s patronage on the
value of Mu Xin’s work. But boosting the artist’s worth was only a small part of
Rosenkranz’s objective. “The bigger issue is the feeling that you are playing a
role in helping the artist create their best work, and you learn more about
their thoughts and work processes as well,” he says.
A Discerning Ear Kathryn Gould, general partner at Menlo Park, Calif.,
venture capital firm Foundation Capital, is an avid amateur violinist. She was
driven to become a patron as she became exasperated with contemporary symphonic
works that to her were “unlistenable.” She started walking out of performances
that irritated her, “without even waiting for the Brahms!”
Gould sees an
artistic blockage in today’s orchestral works. “Too much bad music is being
commissioned; the audience cringes and the works are never performed again—it’s
a vicious circle,” she says. “It used to be that composers made their living
within conservatories or by composing, and nowadays they are a bit more
distanced from their audiences; they work for universities that see arcane work
as not necessarily a bad thing.”
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