I wrote the other day about an episode where my work- its format, content and style- had been seemingly appropriated by another artist in a city where my work regularly shows. It was baffling because I knew and liked this person and had dealt with them in the past. So I showed his work to a number of people who know my work very well and, to a person, they agreed that it was obvious that this was an attempt at replicating my work in nearly all aspects and that I was going to have to do something to counter this. As much as I wanted to write it off as mere coincidence, there were too many factors indicating otherwise for me to simply and philosophically shrug this off.
I contacted him and pointed out my concerns. I really didn’t know what to expect. In this era of rude and shameless behavior, I steeled myself for an argument. But his response was quick and gracious. He claimed to be ignorant of the similarities which, at first, I thought was a bit disingenuous but began to realize after a bit was truly the case. This fellow really did seem to have a blind spot in this situation. He asked his wife and some artist friends if they saw what I was seeing and they did. Embarrassed, he got back to me quickly and agreed to pull the work from the website and would show the remaining pieces in his studio with “in the style of GC Myers” on the back and price tag of each piece.
That satisfied me and I consider the case closed.
I wished I felt more satisfaction. I know I was in the right but part of me empathizes with this guy. He is still struggling to find his own voice for self expression and has many long hours ahead before it will take shape. Sometimes the prospect of that can be daunting in a world where instant gratification rules.
Perhaps that is why I was so protective of my work in this instant. I realized, looking at his paintings that so resembled mine, the sheer amount of effort I have expended in the past fifteen years to get my work to the point where it now stands. It is the result of spending literally tens of thousands of hours alone in my studio, agonizing over every aspect of the work. I have struggled and sacrificed to make my work my own. To make it an expression of who and what I am. To make it my true voice. It has been a long journey and there were no shortcuts taken.
It took this to make me realize what a precious thing this is to me, indeed. These paintings of mine are not mere merchandise, products of commerce that can be easily copied like designer jeans or handbags on the street. They are the products of spirit and thought, things that can’t be priced or simply copied. But things that I now know must be protected.
I really hope this other person understands the journey he faces and is willing to undergo it. You can only follow someone else’s path for so long before you must forge your own way. But if he can stick with it, his efforts will produce something he can call his own and will be rewarded in some way.
I wish him well.
Redtree Times 
Though I’m sure the omission was inadvertent, given the subject of this post it seems ironic to include a photo without attribution (AP Photo / Xinhua, Feng Ming).
Again, you expose my hypocrisy.
This must hae been a tough call to make and I hope you two remain colleagues.
I can’t speak to painting, but I know in writing, it is necessary to write like those you admire before you find your own voice. I’ve never heard of it happening in any other way.
Still, years after I’ve found my voice, you can still hear echoes of Chandler and every other author I’ve admired to the point of emulation. Who was it who said we stand on the shoulders of giants?
It’s the only way to get a good view.
>>Who was it who said we stand on the shoulders of giants?<<
Isaac Newton (among others).
I agree with you that it is necessary to emulate those you admire before you take on your own voice. I am constantly showing my influences in this blog and try to point out where I have borrowed from these artists in my work. However, imagine someone writing a book that they’ve titled “The Big Sleep” with all the same characters, including Marlowe, and the same storyline as the original. The only difference between this book and Chandler’s being the name under the title and the clumsier handling of the prose and construction of the story. There’s a world of difference between this and having your work resonate with the echoes of Chandler.
But I know what you’re saying and agree. We are all synthesizers of our influences. Hopefully, we’re synthesizing more than one influence.
I don’t get it, he was working in your style, even his wife and friends saw it, but he didn’t? What?
Artists are visual people, and very aware of the process and what’s happening on the canvas.
I think he may find that painting buried objects may be a bit too labor intensive.
Dear G.C.,
I used to read a lot of scripts by aspiring screenwriters. It is shocking how effortlessly some writers have trouble seeing the lack of originality in their works. I’ve seen plots (The Great Gatsby; The Fugitive), characters (James Bond, Hannibal Lecter) and even an entire diegesis (Star Wars!!!) stolen without even a hint of premeditation or understanding of the consequences.
While plagiarism was never at play (they used their own words, after all, and ideas for the most part are free to be taken), I came to decide that mastering the details of process can sometimes command such focus that the conceptual decisions can be outsourced to the subconscious, and that’s where lazy minds mistake the use of freely available tropes (the cop about to retire, the misanthrope who just wants to be loved, etc.) for the use of another work’s unique and hard-won ideas. In talking with them about it, my experience too has been that they had no idea how entirely they crossed from tribute into theft, or why that presents a problem.
What concerns me about this story is not the poor guy who probably just doesn’t know any better (but can still find his own voice, I’m sure), but rather the other gallery who displayed his work. How and why didn’t they notice the conspicuous similarities between your works, and why did they choose to show (and sell?) it anyway? Or were they just that out of touch with their local art scene, to not know what was happening at a competing gallery (neither explanation being very encouraging)?
I think galleries have an ethical and professional interest in making sure that only “integral” works (that is to say, works that are both “whole” and produced with integrity) are put on display. It’s really what separates those who serve artists and the art-buying community (like Principal Gallery, here in DC) and retailers who serve no cultural purpose (Thomas Kincad, to name names).
Perhaps your gallery and the competing gallery should visit each others’ spaces to talk about the artists, where they come from, and whether each artist’s work brings value to the local art scene, and why?
Or am I being too hard on that other gallery? Any comments from others?
Great comments, Tom.
As far as the gallery that was exhibitng this fellow’s work, I’m not going to be too hard. While you are correct that they have a responsibility to other artists and their clients to provide only originally produced art, it can sometimes be really difficult to keep up with everything out there. A gallery must sometimes take the artist and his work at face value when he brings it in, assuming it is that artist’s work alone. The better galleries will do research to make sure of the credibility of the artists and their work but many smaller galleries don’t have the time or manpower ( or, unfortunately, the knowledge) to do so properly.
But there are unscrupulous gallery owners out there. I heard from another gallery owner just the other day about one of their artists who was approached by a gallery in another city. This artist had to decline this offer as he had recently started showing his work at a gallery in the same city. The disappointed gallery owner apparently then contracted one of the artists currently showing in his gallery, working in a style totally unlike the other artist, to replicate the work. They copies are extremely well done as you can barely detect any difference when you see the originals and the copies side by side.
This is clearly unethical and will probably end in litigation.
I don’t know how much, if any, premeditation took place in my case. Both the artist and the gallery did the correct thing and pulled the work so I luckily won’t have to find out.
But you’re right in saying that many don’t realize where they stand in relation to the line between tribute and theft.
Thanks again, Tom.