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Winkleman: I was an amateur painter who dreamed of being a professional artist one day, until I met some talented painters and realized how little talent I had. But I realized that I loved talking with them about their work. This led to me working part time for a gallery and organizing guerilla-style group exhibitions (called "hit & run") in warehouses in New York and London. Shortly thereafter I opened in Williamsburg, and now in Chelsea.
One thing comes up over and over, from the very first chapters through the details of raising money. I mean, the importance of a profile, a statement of what makes this gallery unique. Why is it so important?
It's not that important to the casual visitor, I'm sure. It's more important in helping guide a business owner through the tricky decisions that present themselves daily. Should I advertise in a photography magazine or a more general fine art magazine? It depends on the type of photography I'm talking about. If it's highly conceptual, then the photography magazine audience might not be a good investment. Even if it brings in a group to see that one show, unless I have other work that interests them, I'll probably have overspent for that ad. Knowing your program should guide which fairs you apply to, how you design your Web site, et cetera.
You wrote this book to make life easier for others. Was there one surprise you encountered as a dealer that you wish you could have avoided?
Yes, I used to think that getting lots of press went hand in hand with lots of sales. Both are important and they do relate somewhat, but the truth is some types of art sell more than others. Unless your program includes some of the kind that sells, you're in for a very tough time of it.
As one obvious mistake, a typical gallery needs up to three years to become profitable. Yet so many go under in a year. What are they doing wrong?
They didn't have enough working capital or they didn't control their overhead. Many of them over-advertise, in my opinion. Advertising is important, but it doesn't work in the art market like it does for a supermarket. It won't drive in tons of customers wanting to buy the next day. It works much more slowly, possibly taking years to really pay off.
Your book came out just as the recession was changing everything. Is there one thing you wishes he could change?
I did have the chance to add some advice, but beginning during a recession isn't the worst idea. You're getting through the lean years while everyone else is in the same boat. You're also gaining name recognition that you can't buy once the economy picks up again.
Is there a moment when you would have to say to someone, "It's time to quit"?
That's a conversation most dealers are having or hearing quite a bit these days. But you go into it knowing it's going to be a struggle. You try to look at the challenges as opportunities. When you fall down from exhaustion looking for those opportunities might be a good clue that you should quit. When you're making terrible business decisions with regard to your artists or collectors is another indication. You have to be able to look them in the eye and yourself in the mirror.
Will there ever be a point when the self-promotion of the Web makes dealers plain obsolete?
That's the central question for the industry as it exists today, isn't it? I've seen folks recommend leaving the exhibition business to nonprofits and having artists manage sales through their studios. But I do suspect artists — as much as they'll complain from time to time — enjoy certain aspects of working with a dealer who loves their work. So I'm not convinced we'll see dealers vanish anytime real soon. ■