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.