Exhibitions of work by living artists at Japanese galleries are of two kinds: gallery-sponsored exhibitions and rental exhibitions. Likewise, galleries that exhibit work by living artists are of two kinds: those that operate mainly by planning and holding sponsored exhibitions and those that subsist primarily on rentals.
The financial arrangements between the artists and the galleries vary greatly among galleries and can even vary among exhibitions at the same gallery. That said, we can generalize as follows: galleries that hold sponsored exhibitions make their money as percentages—say, 40% to 50%—of the proceeds from the sale of works, and galleries that hold rental exhibitions make their money as rental fees for the gallery space.
Some galleries hold both sponsored exhibitions and rental exhibitions. Some foot the bill, meanwhile, for such expenses as printing exhibition catalogs and promotional postcards, but those expenses are usually the responsibility of the artists.
The Japanese term for sponsored exhibitions is kikakuten, which translates literally as “planned exhibition.” Galleries rarely use that term outwardly in promoting exhibitions. Neither the galleries nor the artists distinguish, that is, between sponsored exhibitions and rental exhibitions in publicizing the events. Prestigious galleries known for sponsored exhibitions of prominent artists hardly need to remind their clienteles of their business model, and rental galleries and their renters have nothing to gain from emphasizing their commercial relationship.
Incidentally, museums also use the term kikakuten, but that is to distinguish thematic and limited-term exhibitions from the routine presentation of works from the museums’ collections. The standard translation for kikakuten in the museum usage is the same term used in other nations: “special exhibition.” Private galleries sometimes use the term in the same sense, as when they have organized thematic exhibitions by multiple artists.
The implications of the term kikakuten can cause frictions in regard to the expectations that it invites. A conscientious and capable gallery will provide artists with ample guidance and support in regard to the “planning” denoted by the term. The planning function, however, is all to often in name only. Witness the recent experience of this potter.
“An email arrived from the gallery where I was preparing to hold an exhibition. The subject line read “Exhibition plan,” so I read on with heightened expectations. All that the email contained, however, was the obligatory [in Japan] seasonal greeting and a confirmation of the exhibition dates and of the gallery’s sales commission percentage.
“Although the email was just a few lines, I was sure I’d missed something. So I reread the email. I reread it two or three times, but that was, in fact, all that it contained.
“‘Exhibition plan’! This was ridiculous, so I called the gallery on the phone and asked the owner if she hadn’t forgotten to include the plan content indicated in the subject line. She didn’t understand what I was asking, so I rephrased my question.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to hold a solo show.’
‘Specifically?’
‘Simply bring the best examples of whatever you’re working on right now.’
‘That’s not a plan. I need a plan.’
‘All right, I’ll draw up a plan and send it to you.’
We ended the conversation as politely as possible and hung up. A few days later, I received an email from the gallery that detailed the promised ‘plan.’ It read as follows: ‘Approximately 80 works, to include at least 10 chawan [tea bowls], 30 saké cups and pouring vessels, 15 flower vases and fresh water jars [for the tea ceremony].’
The only significant improvement over the earlier email was that the writer had dispensed with the gratuitous seasonal greeting. This wasn’t a plan for an exhibition, it was a consignment order for merchandise.
A gallery that operates on consignment is a gallery that has neglected to build relationships of trust with its artists. The gallery, as they say in New York, has no meat in the game. Its owner is seeking to earn a profit on artists’ work without making a commitment to the artists.
The ties of trust that bind first-rate galleries, their clientele, and their artists are ties born of commitment. And the focus of that commitment is work that the galleries purchase on a no-return basis and exhibit on a continuing basis. (This does not include unsold items left over from exhibitions that the galleries are simply trying to get rid of!)
We hear the lament from gallery owners that they lack the liquidity to handle work on a no-return basis. But that is a poor excuse. It’s like a potter lamenting that he or she has a kiln but can’t afford to purchase fuel.
As for the “planning” element of exhibitions, that should emerge naturally from the continuing interchange between the galleries and their artists. A gallery owner or manager who is committed to the gallery’s artists will be in touch with the artists and will be aware of their latest undertakings. Similarly, artists who are committed to their galleries will keep the galleries updated about their activity and their artistic direction.
The market for pottery in the 21st century is small in comparison with the markets for mass-consumption goods. It benefits, however, from a solid core of informed aficionados on the demand side and from a diversity of competent potters on the supply side. The pottery market continues to suffer from a lack of effective mediation by conscientious galleries. But a handful of individuals are alert to that problem and are addressing it through interesting initiatives. The trust that is beginning to accrue through those initiatives bodes well for the world of pottery.
