I was struck by the impressive façade, well-kept and elegant, although outside of my usual preference for older stone or less old brutalist concrete, this building struck a special chord reminding me of the Ghostbusters’ firehouse. Walking up the brief staircase, under the archway, between two tremendous but neutral paintings, I understood I was entering an institution.

Before being able to process the vibrant artwork or old-money finishings, I was engaged by a young dapper gentleman seated in a large open-concept, multidesk workstation right by the entrance. He stood up to welcome me to the gallery. I asked if I may look around. With the professionalism and interest of a Mercedes salesman he asked if I ever visited the gallery before (no.) and if I currently own any artwork – an effective conversational tactic. I explained that I only ever purchased from friends and auctions in the past and I was shopping galleries for the first time. He tried to narrow my focus by pointing out works of various genres, mediums, and sizes. I pointed to one piece that I truly liked and asked for more information, since the pieces were not accompanied by any text.

He thoroughly explained the artist’s pedigree and methodology, but I had to ask for the price. It was well-above my price-range, which I then claimed to be $2,000-$3,000, and I asked half-jokingly “am I in the wrong gallery?” The young man with the nice fitting suit then lead me on a tour of the gallery pointing out works by “known” artists. The collection of $15,000 Damien Hirst butterfly prints answered my earlier question and I realized I was now a guest and not a client.

The gallery visit required the assistance of an associate because of the multi-floor, alcoved layout and the absence of any written information. The fragmented curating and dozens of loose tableaus contrasted the general sophistication of the staff and environment. As the associate flipped through a stack of paintings on the floor, leaned-up against a banister, it broke the Mercedes-dealership illusion and reminded me of the humanity behind the product being sold. It was someone’s painting on the floor, but an investment grade decorative piece on the wall. Somewhere in our walk I was asked where I live and I oddly felt there was a right and wrong answer to the question. I never felt pressured at any point in my visit, nor as if I was wasting anyone’s time. It was not a friendly environment, and it did seem that the young man was acting professionally (and very well at that), but it was effective and structured and obviously strategically implemented from upper management to position the gallery as a premium retailer.

Before leaving, I received a firm handshake and some literature on the artist I was interested in, with the associate’s business card stapled. I was instructed to fill out my name and email address in the appropriate fields of a neatly printed cue card on the desk by the door in order to receive a digital PDF with pricing and be added to the mailing list. I received a kind personalized email from the associate with pricing within a couple of hours of leaving the gallery. I replied: “Thank you for the great service.” I received a visually stimulating newsletter in my inbox a few days later regarding an upcoming Miami art show that they will be partaking in. I didn’t unsubscribe.

Appearance of space Beautiful, clean, elegant inside & out ***** Curation Cluttered, loose pieces. Fragmented *** Greeting Professional, appropriate to environment ***** Sales Tactics Evaluated me quickly and politely, Opened convo ***** Knowledgeable Answered all questions; volunteered info ***** Literature One booklet of artist I asked about offered to me **** Collected my info Neat printed form ready ***** Social Media Active on all channels ***** Follow up Same day. Polite. Brief **** Music No. (Suggestion: low volume jazz or classical) Information on Wall No Photos Permitted Consignment/owned? Consignment all

Blogging Fusion Blog Directory