THE FOUNDER'S DAY AFFAIR

Brad Holland - Feb 1999

(tradução em andamento)

Topic: THE FOUNDER'S DAY AFFAIR (1 of 7), Read 390 times
Conf: The Stock Exchange
From: Brad Holland
Date: Monday, February 01, 1999 10:50 AM

There's been so much gossip about the stock debate at the Society of Illustrators last year that the truth may disappoint those who get to see the videotape some day. Legend has turned this event into the Jerry Springer Show. It wasn't that. The audience didn't
mob the panelists from the stock house or carry them out on poles. A few members of the crowd got hot under the collar, and said in public what many artists and reps have been saying in private for years. That's all. But the rumor, speculation, and spin that have grown up around this Founders' Day confrontation deserve a few words of reflection on its anniversary.
On February 1, 1998, the Society convened a group of seven to discuss "The Future of Illustration." The two principals of "the world's leading stock illustration house" were panelists. I was another. Although I was on record as being opposed to stock houses, the other four panelists were "neutral". Indeed, three of them had previously signed contracts with the stock house. In their subsequent public relations, the members of the stock house have portrayed themselves as outnumbered that day. But, in fact, they were unusually well represented.

I was the last of the seven panelists to speak. I addressed the issue of stock, pointing out that stock houses are our competitors, and suggesting that artists should start taking measures to compete against them. I observed that it's a bad idea to give inventory to the competition, since competitors will use what you give them to undersell you.

The debate that developed around this theme opened the door to grievances from members of the audience. Before the end of the first hour, the discussion had spilled over onto the floor and tempers flared. It was this spontaneous combustion in the audience that's given the event it's memorable reputation.

As many people know, there's a videotape of the event. The Society routinely tapes these discussions to sell for educational purposes. But they can't offer this one because the panelists from the stock house have refused to sign the release forms to make it available.

But having blocked the tape, the stock house then published their own version of the event in their newsletter last summer.
According to this account, I turned a friendly audience against them by passing out "an angry ten-page letter" beforehand and by spreading "disinformation".

There is spin, not truth. The "angry ten-page letter" was in fact the rough draft of an article called "The Stockman Cometh," which CA magazine published in its final form a few months later. You can read it in their Illustration Annual from last July and judge its tone for yourself. But the article could hardly have prejudiced the crowd. It was unavailable until after the panel discussion, when copies were placed in a box beside the door for people to take as they filed out.

I can understand why the stock house panelists would like to blame somebody else for the hostility they encountered. But they're grasping at straws.

The audience that evening included some of the most prominent illustrators and reps in our business. Many of them had dealt with this stock house before. Some still had work under long-term contract with them. They knew all about stock house contracts and lowball prices. They brought their own testimony, experiences, and opinions to the debate. They didn't need me to tell them what they thought.

There's no doubt that the two panelists were shaken. Judging from the self-assertions I've read in their newsletter, they esteem themselves members of the "illustration community." They arrived that day with their customary table of promotional literature, apparently ready to turn the panel discussion into a no-money-down infomercial for themselves, as I've seen them do before. No doubt they expected to spend a few hours plying the audience with anecdotes about artists who make big money in stock and then walk away with new members signed to contracts.

Instead, they found themselves assailed as "vultures" and "wolves" by members of the audience, and called "a disgrace to the business." I'm sure it was painful.

On a human level, I sympathized with them. It's hard not to sympathize with anyone on whom a crowd has turned. But the heads of this stock house are smart people. And surely they don't believe their own public relations. They must know by now that hundreds of artists and reps believe they've accumulated clients at the expense of freelancers everywhere. How long did they think we'd continue to endorse their "predatory" business practices with silence?

I didn't hear anything from any member of the audience that day that I haven't heard from artists and reps in private conversations over the last few years. Indeed, since Founders Day many more unhappy veterans of stock have begun to speak out.

If the heads of this stock house really cared whether or not they were members of the "illustration community," they'd realize that the widespread fear and loathing they've caused is feedback from their own self-serving business practices. If they really cared what artists thought, they might have started to listen. They might have acknowledged the grievances. They might have opened up their newsletter to a free exchange of honest opinions, as theispot has done from the beginning.

Instead, they've retreated back into their world of P.R., to sit on the evidence of the videotape, to spin their version of the event they won't allow you to see, and to blame their critics for the resentment they've earned.

Caught outside their P.R. bubble last February, they found themselves listening to some authentic voices of the real "illustration community." And, from all indications, they've chosen not to listen.

Brad Holland