The crisis has strangulated the art world just as much as it has damaged every other aspect of the economy. Sales have plummeted and art spaces have sunk deep into debt. The luckier ones are still on life support, but the vast majority has undergone a silent decline and painful demise. They are casualties of a situation in which discretionary income is a thing of the past.

Print by Elena Jimenez

For most, art purchases are considered to be optional and superfluous in times like these. Money has been diverted to other uses. Even those who used to acquire art works, are no longer willing to consider parting with their cash so easily. You can hear their mantra in every gallery in America: “I love the work”…followed by a prolonged pause and then…nothing. The painful truth is that, at least, these are the people who make it to the gallery. Many a former collector has become reluctant to even go to openings and receptions out of concerned that he or she might be put on the spot by an overly eager dealer.

The ensuing tension is easily felt at any of these events. Everyone knows that everyone else (artists, gallery owners and patrons) is hurting bad. It is the big, ugly elephant in the room. Nobody acknowledges the pain and so everyone walks away at the end of the day no wiser or better-off than they were before. A gallery space full of sleepwalkers is an excruciating thing to watch.

The worst side effect that I have seen from this pitiable state of affairs is that relationships among those in the art business have become uptight and difficult. Artists are unhappy with the lack of sales and so are galleries. The artists point the finger at the dealers while they, in turn, hold collectors accountable for the negative cash flow. Remaining in the black has turned into a laborious and excruciating challenge. Convincing the cynics of the rewards of buying art is ludicrous at best.

Print by Elena Jimenez

So as the water drains ever so slowly from the small pond that is the art scene, fish of all sizes and colors are left gasping for a sale. The smaller fish (emerging artists, small galleries) die first. The larger fish (well established artists and galleries) are able to lay dormant for a while longer, hoping for that rain that will restore the pond to its prior vibrant state. In the meantime, associations turn sour. Connections are severed. It’s a big fish devours small fish cruel world.

Acceleration has now become a primary factor in the changing landscape of the art world. It has brought about a kind of sudden, unanticipated death that has not only stopped growth, but also triggered the disappearance of art from so many of its usual settings. In a glimpse of an eye, Art’s natural habitat has been compacted, downgraded, damaged beyond recognition.

The apparently firm, unyielding bedrock on which our feet rested has crumbled, disintegrated in a matter of months. Artists, galleries, even larger institutions are trying to claw their way up from the edge of the precipice and the success of their efforts has been mixed at best. We are no longer contending with the natural ebb and flow of a fragile ecosystem in which all players (artists, collectors, gallery owners, critics) are bound to each other to achieve balance, renewal and continuity. Instead, this is the scorched aftermath of the economic meteorite impact. A free for all, big fish eats small fish scenario.

Adaptation is now the new black. Artists lower their prices in an attempt to move their work. Galleries recalibrate their exhibition schedules and the type and amount of work that they can circulate. Strategic adjustments such as lower commission rates, payment plans, reduced hours of operation have sprouted from the burnt soil, but it is still very early to judge whether they will ensure survival or

The most infrequent species of all, the collector, has now practically vanished from the landscape. There are sightings every so often, but the great majority of people that now visit galleries belong to a very distinct variety of reticent consumer, the kind that scurries, no questions asked, and leaves as indistinctly as it arrived.

Many factors will determine the return of a thriving environment in the art business. Some of them, such as the economic recovery of the country at large, are out of our immediate control. However, there are areas that we can bolster from the ground up by engaging everyone involved (buyers, gallery owners, artists, framers) in a more cohesive, flexible and united effort to restore the art scene in Albuquerque. The strategies are simple, yet sometimes counterintuitive: lower your prices, advertise wisely, moderate your commissions, encourage collaboration with the artists, direct prospective buyers to other galleries and art venues, insist on quality of product, diversify your offering and improve affordability through payment plans. These are not magic wands, but rather the seeds to a more fertile market in the near future.