On Aldrich Undercover

Last night I had a serious case of butterflies in my stomach; a breathless nervousness I have generally only when I’m about to go onstage. I wasn’t performing. Instead it was the debut of Aldrich Undercover, a fundraising art sale to benefit the Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum in Ridgefield, Connecticut. I sit on the Aldrich’s Board of Trustees, and a significant part of my duties in the capacity is to raise or donate funds. This is a little ironic because a few years ago when I got the call from the Aldrich’s search committee offering me the opportunity to join to board, the first words out of my mouth were that I was honored bot be asked but I’m just an average guy, financially speaking, and I would not be in a position to give them money. This had to be fully understood by all involved. No problem, they said, not all board members were philanthropists—many are asked to join for their experience with and knowledge of contemporary art. With that understanding I agreed to be considered and shortly thereafter was voted onto the Board.

Joining the Aldrich board has been one of the most stimulating and gratifying projects I’ve ever embarked upon. It has introduced me to a host of personalities from breathtakingly rich benefactors to ardent and committed artist and educators, to absolutely endearing, dedicated staff members. It’s also the first time I’ve been at the top of an influential and very well-run organization. I also feel it has enhanced my stature as a collector.

My first meeting was in a construction site. We had just torn down the original building to construct a larger, first-class gallery structure (a task that was concluded remarkably on budget and on schedule), and at the conclusion of the meeting I was asked privately how I could raise money for the museum. A little nonplussed, I related my agreement to the individual who apparently was out of the loop when my admission was on the agenda. But although I declined initially, my gears started turning and I decided I’d feel better if I found some way of raising money for the museum without jeopardizing my own financial well-being.

That fall, to celebrate the Aldrich’s 40^th birthday, I wrote, directed, produced and starred in an original opera “Where Is Love,” which I created exclusively using music on the Greatest Hits charts in 1964, the year the Aldrich was founded. I have a musical side and invited 23 performers to stage it with me at a private club in Manhattan. That raised somewhere around 5 figures, if my memory serves me. But that was two years ago, and I needed another idea.

Then last year I got one. An article I read in the London Daily Telegraph reminded me of a trip I took to Aldeburgh, East Anglia, England. I walked into a little gallery there, five or six years ago (I always check out the galleries wherever I am) and they were having an event called a “secret sale.” To support a local charity, a number of artists had produced and donated original postcard sized paintings, all offered for the same price. Some were local artists and possibly students, while others were very well known. The price for each work was ₤25, although clearly the ones made by the known artists would be worth much more. The twist was one could only find out the authorship of the artwork after purchasing it.

This idea really drew me in. Although tempted, I wound up not getting anything because the works still on offer weren’t compellingly appealing to me, despite the lottery aspect of the sale. Since I was not with the Aldrich at the time I had no application for the nifty sale idea, so I just filed it away in my memory.

Then last year I read the Telegraph article about the annual secret sale held in London by the Royal College of Art. It is wildly, wildly popular. England’s most famous artists contribute works along with the merely well known, along side the students, emerging artists and the Sunday painters. The price is quite modest, again just ₤25 or ₤50, and the artworks postcard sized. People have been known to line up for the secret sale three days in advance.

This sounded like such a great idea, I couldn’t understand why it was never done here. It’s really odd the way some English things have cross-cultural appeal (Beatles, James Bond) and other things just never catch on (Marmite, Christmas pantos). I thought it was definitely worth importing the secret sale to America.

I approached Harry Philbrick, the Aldrich’s Director, to test the waters and he was impressed with the idea. He polled the museum staff and found most people were enthralled by it, however, there was some resistance among the curators who feared it would divert attention and resources from other planned exhibits. They also voiced a concern that the artworks might not reflect the Aldrich’s esthetic. I thought the idea was dead. But by time the next Board meeting rolled around I was surprised to see the secret sale was firmly on the schedule. Harry did a little research and discovered the Santa Monica Museum of Art, a contemporary art museum very similar to ours in size and artistic outlook, had held a secret sale for two consecutive years, and it turned out to be their most popular event ever, raising over six figures. A fun event and a lot of money raised—how could we resist? I think the plan was made concrete when someone had the idea of limiting invitations to participate to artists who had previously been exhibited at the Aldrich. That feature solved the esthetic concerns as well as providing an element of quality control. It also gave the sale the aspect of being a real family event.

From then on, all systems were “go.” I had the felling we’d have a big success because when I described the event to friends they would twist my arm vigorously to be put on the invitation list months ahead of time. Staff members were also approaching me with big smiles telling me they thought it was a great idea.

I got to work with the staff and I tool a trip to Santa Monica to speak with Elsa Longhauser and Denise Feathers to learn how their sale had been organized. The Santa Monica museum was overwhelmingly generous with their advice and shared their two years of experience with us. We can never be grateful enough for their help.

We had to come up with a catchy name and a logo for our sale. Sadly Santa Monica’s moniker, “Incognito” was already taken. But I came up with “Aldrich Undercover”, which has a cool ring of its own. From then on the staff worked indefatigably up until last night. We received donations from about 156 artists, all of whom jumped at the chance to support our institution. Many I spoke with said they were honored to be asked and they were glad to give back to an institution that had supported them in their careers.

Which brings us to last night and my butterflies. All indications were that we’d have a smashing event. We received 244 artworks, all 8” x 10” (much larger than the typical English postcard size), and we charged $300 each. Contemporary artists Damien Loeb, Ann Hamilton and Sol Le Witt were Honorary Co-Chairs; each one contributing work. We had sold close to 250 tickets, plus received large donations from 8 members and trustees. Of the staff members who hung the works in (and therefore saw them in advance) the consensus was the quality was very high. I knew all that but still, being the prime moving force behind this event anything that could go wrong would certainly lay on my shoulders. Would there be pandemonium? Would a fistfight break out? (Almost.) Would the work go unsold?

My fears were all unfounded. Within ten minutes of the ceremonial door opening, most the works were sold. There was a hushed intensity in the gallery as people frantically, desperately examined each artwork trying to divine who created what. Somewhere on that wall was a Sol LeWitt and everybody wanted it.

I entered the room and quickly tried to seek out the four artists whose work I knew. But one with an inimitable style was purchased right before my eyes by another Board member. I had intended to buy just one work for myself and three others for friends who couldn’t attend. But then I decided I couldn’t possibly part with those three so I found three more. I’d fallen into my own trap! Maybe that’s what I really had been nervous about.

Well, the event was a tremendous success. Every single artwork was sold, and we exceeded our fundraising target. The Aldrich has posted its description of the event, with photos, here: http://www.aldrichart.org/news/aldrichundercover06.php and I have 4 terrific new artworks in my collection: Angry Little Bird by Georgia Marsh, Preference/1 by Susan Carson, and untitled portraits by Kim McCarty and Allyson Smith.

I've just learned that the next Aldrich Undercover secret sale will be held November 21, 2008. Can't wait!