About Me 0099: Making Money System

A couple of months ago, I bought this drawing from New York artist William Powhida. It’s called “A Guide to the Market Oligopoly System”, and it’s lots of fun, as well as being very astute.

It’s dominated by a big pyramid, with “the yearning masses” at the bottom — “submerged artists”, “deep in debt”, with enthusiasm rather than money. There’s a little dot over on the left, saying “you are probably here”. Powhida explains the economic condition that most artists find themselves in: There are always more people who like to earn their income as an artist than there is demand for them: there is a structural excess supply of labor. So, why do they persist? It’s a labor of love, or willful ignorance of the odds.

At these levels, art-making is simply not an economic activity, and as such it might be the purest art of all. There’s something quite noble about a labor of love, and indeed most artists, galleries, and museums at much higher levels of the pyramid are happy to continue to pretend that the art they’re showing is still a labor of love, even as it sells for millions of dollars. Art is getting bigger and glossier because that’s where the money is, but few artists (Takashi Murakami, perhaps?) will unabashedly admit that they make art for the money.

For the most part, then, as you rise up the pyramid, you encounter a steady increase in hypocrisy and artspeak, with the latter largely designed to obfuscate the former.

At the same time, however, it’s easy to sneer at the labor-of-love types: the art world has internalized the idea that labors of love are only worthwhile so long as they fetch a goodly number of dollars, or at the very least have a veneer of art-school sophistication — a veneer which becomes even more important if your art is popular or decorative or minimally functional. (Elsewhere, Powhida notes that “fashion isn’t considered art. Sorry!”)

The next level of the pyramid is what Powhida calls “the broad primary market”, which includes “tons of commercial galleries everywhere” as well as non-profits, pop-ups, co-ops, and the like. This is the point at which art starts being traded for money — the artists in question typically make a three-figure sum selling smallish works, with larger pieces at more respectable galleries going for a few thousand.

At this point, both artists and collectors start thinking in terms of what any given piece might be “worth.” Everybody in the system — artist, collector, gallery — has a natural desire to want to believe that an artwork is “worth” more than the collector paid for it, and that the trajectory of the artist’s future career will mean that in years to come, the collector will be able to sell it at a profit.

This is where the collector hypocrisy comes in: collectors love to say that they buy art just because they love it, and that they will never sell it. For them, just as for the artist, it’s important to keep up the pretense that what they’re doing is a labor of love; when collectors are caught flipping artworks to auction houses and making a profit on the deal, they’re sneered at, especially if they don’t immediately reinvest the proceeds in even more art. But the fact is that beyond a relatively modest initial level, no collectors will buy anything unless they think that it has real monetary value now, or will have it in the future.

This is why galleries are so important: they’re the mechanism through which an artist’s career can be tracked and reduced to a handy dollar figure. Everybody knows that there’s much more art than science to setting the dollar amount, and that’s why they always keep an eye on the auction houses, which are considered more objective. There’s an interesting tension here: galleries and artists love to see new records being set at auction, even as they hate the collectors who take their work to an auction house in the first place.

The auction houses are actually two full notches higher up on the pyramid, above the blue-chip galleries in London, LA, and New York and the major art fairs such as Art Basel and Frieze. At these levels, art becomes more explicitly a commodity: virtually everything bought here has some kind of immediate resale value, and you’ll probably be able to borrow cash money against it if you put it up as collateral. Galleries will nearly always buy back the work they sold you, if not at the price they sold it to you for, and much of the work will happily be accepted by the big auction houses.

The barriers to entry, at this level, are high: in the primary market, individual artworks start in the five-figure range and go right up into seven figures or even eight for massive works by megastars. Meanwhile, the same dealers operate a highly-exclusive secondary market where works can occasionally break the $100 million mark.

As its position on the pyramid suggests, the auction market is even more exclusive. It’s actually smaller, even as a secondary market, than the behind-the-scenes dealings of gallerists, and it’s also much more brutal in its assessments of an artist’s career trajectory. Auction houses are happy to sell relatively cheap works by up-and-coming artists, but they are much warier of more expensive works by artists seen as being on the decline. There’s still a market, for instance, for 80s superstars like Julian Schnabel or Eric Fischl, but you’re very unlikely to find their work at auction: they’ve been kicked out of the auction world, back down to the primary dealers.

It’s worth noting that this mechanism creates a very strong survivorship bias in the official art-market returns, quoted by Powhida at being 0.55% per year. Those returns are calculated by looking at pieces which have come up for auction more than once, but the fact is that in the big auction houses will often simply refuse to accept pieces which are no longer in favor, with the result that those works end up being sold in the opaque secondary market of galleries, and never get incorporated into official statistics. Auction sales are emphatically not a representative sample of secondary-market art sales more generally. What’s more, most art collections are built up in the primary market rather than the secondary market, and art indices give no indication of the rate of return on primary-market purchases, again because those numbers are so opaque.

Most people who buy art will, to a first approximation, “lose” all their money: like most other consumer products, it won’t or can’t be resold after being bought. Many of those people kid themselves that their work is “worth” roughly what it would cost them to replace it; they’re only disillusioned when they actually try to sell the thing and find no willing buyers. And even the clear-eyed often think of their art as a lottery ticket: it might be worthless today, but maybe, in the future, if the artist becomes hugely successful, it could be worth a fortune.

Art only really becomes an asset class at the very top of the pyramid: the auction houses, the museums, and the stars (a/k/a Damien Murakoons). Artists are constantly if slowly being inducted into this world, and museums are constantly receiving donations of art and buying it themselves, thereby taking it off the market. As a result, the total size of the market remains roughly constant, even the art which makes up the asset class is constantly changing. Right now, you’ll find Richard Prince and Francis Bacon in high demand; in ten years’ time it’ll be someone else.

One of the things I like the most about Powhida’s piece is the various different ways that he characterizes what you might think of as the y-axis: the thing that changes as you go higher up the pyramid. One sequence looks at the artists, who go from “submerged” to “emerging” to “established” to “stars.” Another looks at the artists’ net worth, which goes from “deep in debt” to “loaded.” Then of course there’s the price of art: “hundred$” to “thousand$” to “million$.” There’s a line characterizing the art from the collector’s point of view, from “speculation” to “investment.” There’s an upside-down pyramid, showing the art world in terms of effect rather than mass. And then there’s this:

You can argue the toss on some of these, but the main thrust is clear: the value of a work of art is to a very large degree a function of the city where it’s being sold. New York’s at the top of the heap (or, to be precise, Manhattan); Berlin punches well above its weight; Paris, the erstwhile center of the art world, is conspicuous by its absence.

Art schools, too, are ranked: Yale’s at the top, followed by Columbia, RISD, the Art Institute of Chicago, MICA, Cal Arts, UCLA, Bard, and Pratt. No foreign art schools are on the list, which is a shame, but Powhida is a very American artist.

In any case, I love this particular piece — I’m geeky enough to think that there should be much more art with footnotes — and I’m glad to own it. Naturally, I’ll never sell it. But I can still dream of a day when Powhida is famous and it’s worth a fortune.

“We wanted to be the Bose of the digital world,” Cullen said. But in order to do that, the Sonos crew had to figure out how to make a product that was easy to use and could deliver a sound quality that audiophiles and those listening to MP3s would appreciate (as an aside for digital music junkies, Cullen says he stores his audio files as 320 kbps MP3 files). Improvement is ongoing, with the latest advancements being the way it built its S5 boombox-style device. Sonos, not longer content to shuttle bits around the home network through a proprietary wireless system, designed a new speaker for the S5 that digitally controls the output from the different parts of the speaker.

An advantage of this is that the S5 sounds the way most consumers prefer their speakers to sound (at least according to the gurus at Lucas Arts who vetted the sound quality for Sonos) and that the speaker profile can be changed via a DSP programmer tweaking the settings. Expect those advances to be seen in future Sonos products. Cullen also notes that the home audio market is the focus today, but people listen to music in other places, such as in their cars or via headphones — an area Sonos will one day explore. As it does, it’s staying focused on providing the best sound for digital music and continuing to refine the way it builds its products in the service of that goal.

Lesson#2: Consider Usability Before You Build

It took the guys at Sonos a few months to build their first prototype, and at the end, they were left with a product only a geek could love. Realizing this, they sought help from a usability expert, who told them they didn’t need a usability expert until much later in their process. What they needed was an industrial designer who could get in early and help them build the hardware and software with an eye toward the consumer. The team eventually hired Meiko Mieko Kusano, a designer for Phillips, who told them, “Usability is in the bones of the product, not the skin.” Cullen still credits that mentality with Sonos’ success.

“Most consumer electronics companies build out hardware and then add software to update it and change their designs every 18 months. We turned that on its head, building hardware that will last and software that we can update whenever we need to in order to improve the experience.” Cullen credits that shift to Kusano, and offers up Sonos’ Zone Player products as an example. “You should be able to stream music over that for the next 15 years.”

Lesson#3: Don’t Be Afraid to Cannibalize Yourself

That long-term vision for the hardware is part of the success of the Sonos platform, but the other is the philosophy the company has about working with partners and even introducing new products to expand its base. When it launched, a Sonos system could run a user about $99 for a wireless router, another $350 to $500 or so for something that picks up that signal and connects to speakers in one room (each room would need another of these), and a special controller for about $350 to drive the system. But in 2008, Sonos released a free app for the iPod that mimicked the functionality of the controller and thus brought down the cost of the system. Sales surged. The loss in controller revenue was more than offset by sales of the new system, Cullen said.

It now has a free app for the iPad, and as mentioned earlier, Cullen says support for other platforms will come. But last year, Sonos introduced a much more disruptive product: its S5 boombox. For $400, the S5 has speakers and allows someone to create a Sonos network with the addition of a Zone Bridge for $99. The launch of that product has changed the profile for Sonos, moving it out of the specialty market and into the mainstream. At the time of this writing, items No. 3 and No. 6 on Best Buy’s Top 10 bestselling wireless and streaming audio products were S5s. However, Sonos’ S5 cracked the top 100 of Amazon’s Bestsellers in Home Audio & Theater Products list at No. 73, behind rivals Logitech and Bose. But Cullen says the fear of cannibalizing sales of its more expensive gear hasn’t been realized; instead people buy an S5, then tend to add more onto their networks.

Lesson #4: A True Platform Doesn’t Pick Winners

As a platform, Sonos plans to release a breadth of hardware and software to ensure a better digital music experience, but it also extends that to partnerships it signs with music providers. Sonos currently supports Spotify in the U.K. and Scandinavia, and that partnership alone has enabled it to boost sales of its system in those countries by a non trivial amount. In the U.S., a partnership with Pandora has had a smaller but still noticeable affect on sales as well. Cullen said Spotify and other some partners have offered to pay Sonos for providing access to their content to Sonos users, but Sonos doesn’t play that game. “We don’t take revenue from people,” Cullen said. “We don’t want any incentives to guide our behavior rather than the user choosing what they want to listen to. We don’t want to be picking winners and losers.”

So far, Sonos’ strategy is working. The company has now raised $65 million,and while Cullen wouldn’t discuss IPO plans, he says the company has been approached by buyers. However, the $15 billion home audio market beckons, and Sonos believes it has learned how to play the game well and can take the disruption provided by digital music and home networks to give the industry giants a run for their money.

Related GigaOM Pro Content (sub req’d):

Will Sonos Ever Be the Next Big Thing?

5 Connected Consumer Companies to Watch in 2011

Connected Consumer 2011: Rise of the Virtual Video Operator

Source:http://removeripoffreports.net/

About Me 0099

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Making Money System

Modern & Contemporary Design Platform / Good <b>News</b>/ Products <b>...</b>

Casting <b>News</b>: Anne Hathaway to Guest on 'Glee,' Marissa Jaret <b>...</b>

Apple stock falls on <b>news</b> of Steve Jobs' medical leave <b>...</b>

No comments:

Post a Comment