
Photograph courtesy of Michelle Milla-Gray
Dave Gray has an amazing workspace, a small building that sits behind his lovely house in St. Louis County. It’s the perfect place to create, which he does in a variety of disciplines. It’s so nice that he insists that we meet in person on a perfect March afternoon, rather than trading emails with these questions, asked of visual artists on Look/Listen every other week. It turned out to be the right choice.
He’s currently in the process of writing a book about the principles of agility in work environments, and is consulting on start-up projects with collaborators around the world. But he also paints for his own pleasure and, lately, he’s taken that passion to eBay, where he’s established an online art kiosk with prices starting at 99 cents. That approach lead to some folks chiding him for undercutting not only his own work’s value, but the value of artwork generally. “As you know,” he says, “You have to have a pretty thick skin to put your work out.” (But getting involved in online debates about creative process is a part of Gray’s daily discipline; the eBay sales continue and we link to his eBay store at the bottom of the page.)
As an author, ex-newspaper info graphics designer, business owner, visual thinking consultant, and guest speaker, conversation with Gray gets a bit rangy; our conversation ended up with our walking his dog to the local coffee shop for added discussion. The seven questions, though? We handled those in his home office and studio. An enjoyable chat, indeed.
Art school? Self-taught? Some variety of both? Or none of the above?
On the first one: art school, yes. I went to the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, CA. That’s what it’s called, believe it or not. It sounds generic, but also sounds arrogant, doesn’t it? “The Art Center.” It was a great school, and I’d only say great things about it. It was a bit like The Karate Kid, very wax-on, wax-off. I’m a person who likes to learn with my body, and that’s how we learned. “Make 10 little swatches in equal steps, from black-to-white. And they have to be completely flat.” You’d do it and the teacher would (point) “No, no, yes, this is one’s not black, do it again.” But I liked that. Not that particular thing, but I liked it as a school. It wasn’t so much an intellectual place; it was very much like a trade school. They were teaching you craft, like learning to be a carpenter, or something.
But the answer’s “both,” as I’ve also been self-taught. I didn’t learn computers or computer graphics, so I’m self-taught on all of that. I got a job at a newspaper, doing information graphics. I was self-taught on all of that. I’m definitely self-taught in terms of management, from running organizations and leading people. I read a lot of books.
Regarding your creative habits, are you a night owl or an early bird?
I’m an early bird. I used to be a night owl when I was younger. But now I’m an early bird.
In basic terms, can you describe the set up and vibe of your studio?
(Opens arms and laughs.) Isolation, and having a quiet area, are a couple of things most important to me. And natural light. Even when I’m working at my desk at home, or places where I would go to work, I wouldn’t work in the same room where I’d watch TV, for example. There’s not a TV in here. I can watch a video (on the computer), but it’d only watch it for something work-related. I have places where I do work that’s digital, and several places where I work hands-on. Sticky notes are on the walls. (Pointing.) This is a place for digital work. This is a space for flat work. This is a space for easels. And this is space is for taking pictures of things. I have the ultimate studio, really, but it took me a while to get to where I could have it. I think the most important thing is having a door you can close.
What are your thoughts on crowdfunding for the arts? And is that option any part of your own approach to creating and selling work?
I love things like Kickstarter, because it used to be very hard for an artist to raise money for a big project. Now, you’re able to raise the money first. Kickstarter can give people a way to make a prototype and get people excited about it, so that they can fund it. I was in a brief argument with someone recently. I said that Kickstarter’s like an art gallery. “No, no, no. You have to trust people, and if they don’t make the work, you can’t go after Kickstarter.” It’s a 21st century gallery, and there’s risk involved.
eBay isn’t crowdfunding. But why I like eBay is because, similar to crowdfunding, it cuts out the middleman. If you show at a gallery, number one, you have the problem of only getting your work in front of a few local people who are able to go to that gallery. Number two, you’re basically going to be paying someone to hang your work on the wall, and you’ll only be paid if someone buys it. With eBay, anyone in the world can access it. Though, practically speaking, it’s expensive to ship anything out of the U.S., even on a little thing.
What I like about putting the work onto eBay is that if it’s good enough, someone will get excited. It only takes two people thinking a piece is worth $1,000 to make the piece worth $1,000, as they’ll bid against one another. It takes awhile to find those people. But with the principles of agility that I’m working on, if you put something out in a small way at first, they may pay zero or $10 for it. If you keep doing it and putting it out there, over time, as you get more people looking at your stuff, the price will go up. If it’s any good, the price will move, as more people want it.
Do you have a dream project that lacks only funding (or time)?
No. (After considerable laughter, Gray adds, “I have all the funding and time needed for the projects that I dream of doing.” “So, just ‘no?’” “Yes. ‘No.’”)
To what degree do you enjoy having public contact, whether that means selling your work at a fair, a gallery opening, etc.?
I like having public contact. I like being in touch with people, but I also like privacy. And with the Internet, you can do it on your own terms. I would hate to be someone who gets recognized when they go out in public. Having no privacy? That would suck. But, yeah, I like to meet people. The other nice thing about the Internet is that it makes your time meeting with people in the real world more productive. You have a sense of who you want to talk to and work with.
What other St. Louis artists inspire or motivate you?
I guess that depends on how you define artists. You inspire me. (Laughs.) I’m inspired by Ron Buechele, because he’s actually created a vision, in the same way as Bob Cassilly. Steve Smith and his family are bringing new things into existence. They shared a vision and an idea, and they want to do [it] and feel driven to do [it]. Now, they may not be artists. But Bob Cassilly was definitely an artist. Bill Keaggy, for sure. And Tim Garrett. He’s in that category of people who’ve made a life.
The true artists are creating their lives. Not just creating art works. The people I admire are those who’ve created their life. You know what I mean—they’re purposeful about life. They’re intentional about who they want to be, and don’t let fear get in the way. They look at life as a creative problem.
I’ll tell you a story. When I was just out of art school, I was living with my mom and dad and I was substitute teaching at the local middle school. If someone got sick, they’d call me, and I’d make a few dollars. This was in the early ‘80s. What happened was there was an artist-in-residence in New Bedford at the time. Ralph Fasanella. You can look him up. He was a real leftist, a union guy, he volunteered and fought for the Abraham Lincoln Brigade in the Spanish Civil War. A real diehard red, I guess. But he was also a Grandma Moses-type of painter, a folk artist. He did these great paintings of union halls and Yankee Stadium, New York scenes. A lot were politically charged. He didn’t really start painting until he retired. He’d been a machine worker, or something. But when he was an artist-in-residence, I took the kids to see him, and he’d give a little talk. None of the kids had any questions, so I asked one: “How do you reconcile the need for being an artist with the need for making a living in this world?” He saw right through me, that I wasn’t asking for the kids, but was asking for myself, as an artist. “I dunno. I sweated it out. You sweat it out.” What I like about what he said to me is that it affected me. It was a good answer to the fundamental question any creative person has. There’s a lot to solve. The first creative project is to create your life. You have to find a way to live in the world and be an artist. Whatever the answer is for you is not an easy one, but it’s the most important one, I think.
Dave Gray's Ebay store can be found here; see more of his work on his Flckr page.