Friday, May 6, 2016
This is the question put to me from a man who stepped into the gallery,
listened to me extoll the scale of the market for miniature etching presses. He
was a big man, and said that he dreamed of having a huge press at his disposal,
powerful, like a locomotive.
I disagree, as my mantra is “small is beautiful,” which I got from a book
titled, “Small Is Beautiful: A Study of Economics As If People Mattered,” . . . a collection of essays by British
economist E. F.
Schumacher. The phrase ‘Small Is Beautiful’ came from a phrase by his teacher Leopold Kohr. It is often
used to champion small, appropriate
technologies that are
believed to empower people more, in contrast with phrases such as, ‘bigger is
better’.
“First published in 1973, the book brought
Schumacher's critiques of Western economics to a wider audience during the 1973 energy crisis and emergence of globalization. The Times Literary Supplement ranked Small Is Beautiful among the 100 most influential books
published since World War II. A
further edition with commentaries was published in 1999.” (Wikipedia)
The year 1973 was an important year for me because upon my return from my
first study abroad, printmaking had a different appeal and meaning. I had
visited some of the oldest living printmaking pioneers in Europe, and they
conveyed a feeling of discovery and creativity to which our modern printmaking
world owes its meaning.
But newness and discovery were no longer so alive in 1969, I felt. In fact,
despite that printmaking was on the cusp of becoming a hugely profitable and
collectible commodity in the art world, I thought its real potential lay in its
being the ancestor of new technologies which, also, were just being explored in
Seattle. Video art was the first of these I tackled. With my students we experimented
and blended video with our printmaking
Then came computer graphics and by the early 1980s I was—and am—deeply
committed to the “small is beautiful” idea. It takes the form of artists’
stamps, for example, and mini etching presses—kinds of appropriate art and
technology for our times and for the future. This concept even meshes with the
video games industry and, of interest to me as a teacher, MOOCs.
The visitor that day was, of course, unaware of all this history I
experienced, and for his personal enjoyment he would like to be running a big
press. I could point him to a big press for sale—several in fact—which had served
their owners in those halcyon days when it seemed that bigger prints were
better prints, and big presses were needed and viewed as a status symbol.
However, the biggest presses ever made to feed this idea have been broken
down, shipped to Singapore, Japan, and Australia, and the prints that came from
them are in their museums. The owner and developer of those oversized works of
art, Ken Tyler, designer of the presses, also, discussed the change and the demise
of the era in an article.
How much would it take?
Repeating the question he put to me returns. I answered, “That would depend
on which element in the nineteen incubators a person wanted to develop.” Later
I told him I was not interested in the press retail business, and my presses
were well beyond the prototyping and market test stages. It is in the retail
entertainment market that the best prospects lay.
He nodded, and I invited him to today’s Sip ‘N Print coffee session. He
came, and we will take up the subject next week. That is, if he shows up. [He
never did].
Linear process – the real
estate development model
If the question becomes,
“How much would it take to empty the space,” I consider it something like
facing an undeveloped property. Imagine this: trees and undergrowth cover the grounds,
raw, undeveloped land like a site chosen to build a mini mall; but really it’s
merely 300 prime real estate in Seattle’s Lower Queen Anne neighborhood (also
known as Uptown).
At this time it is
crammed with my art, my tools, etching presses, materials and supplies for
everything from website maintenance, packing and shipping, display items,
computers and furniture. A developer sizing up the space for a daily Sip ‘N
Print incubator would first inventory the items worth saving or donating, and
then hire a two man crew to clear everything else out, throw it in a dumpster
rented for the purpose.
Then an interior designer
and fabricator would be called in, along with an attorney to work out the
insurance and licensing needs. After three to six months, the spot would be a
private Sip ‘N Print serving coffee in the morning and early afternoon, an
after-school program in the afternoon, and a wine and beer session in the
evening.
It would be the prototype
for a franchise, and the period of incubation would be used to tie up all legal
aspects (patents, trademarks, etc.) which would engage the usual legal matters
of forming a franchise. Following considerable testing and proving the
proprietary aspects, a multi-million dollar business would be a fact—not merely
a dream of mine.
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