The 2011 Tretchikoff exhibition at the South African National Gallery is an interesting brand repositioning exercise. The ‘master of the fallen flower’ has posthumously been repositioned from the ‘King of Kitsch’ to ‘the people’s painter’. According to Andrew Lamprecht, the curator of Tretchikoff: The people’s painter, it is high time the artist got the critical recognition he deserves. In the June/July 2011 edition of Art Times he states that: “He (Tretchikoff) pioneered the idea of selling affordable copies of his works, enabling working class people to own art which they proudly displayed above their mantelpieces. Works such as Chinese Girl, The Dying Swan and Fighting Zebras have become a vital part of popular culture… He transformed the way that ordinary people relate to art, making it accessible and affordable in the form of mass-produced prints.”

Not everyone is convinced. Lloyd Pollak (also in the Art Times) feels that ‘Tretchi’s oeuvre is the distillation of camp, a form of art overstated to the point of self-parody. Susan Sontag summed up camp as “art that proposes itself seriously but cannot be taken altogether seriously because it is too much, too artificial, too affected, too exaggerated, too stylized.” Tretchi’s painting answers perfectly to this definition. Its corny excess and vulgarity provide wry, ironic amusement to the sophisticated spectator.’ But as a populist art brand how much does the average South African care about the opinion of the ‘sophisticated spectator’? For Joe Public the endorsement by Michaelis academics like Lamprecht probably matters less than the fact they can, for the first time, see Tretchi’s work at the National Gallery and that his work is summarized in Lamprecht’s

book. Eavesdropping on the comments of the exhibition visitors one could literally hear how minds towards Tretchikoff were changing – the result of a strategically-planned and cleverly executed public relations campaign.

But can one really view an artist as a brand? A learned academic recently chastised me whilst sipping on an over-priced (read ‘quality’) ginger beer at a ‘wholesome’ Capetonian restaurant brand loved by yummy mummies (and evidently said academic) for having the audacity to claim that artists could be degraded to brands; a view not uncommon by my many in the fine arts fraternity. If one considers that artists were the first people in history to brand themselves, then of course they can (and should) be viewed as brands. But in hindsight I understand the anti-brand view. Brands and branding is often viewed as a 20th and 21st Centuries invention, and mainly in corporate and financial terms, but according to Moore and Reid dates back thousands

of years when artists started to brand themselves. In “The Birth of Brand: 4000 Years of

Branding History” they investigate the history of branding and traces its origins back to the Indus Valley around 2250 BCE. Branding played two key roles over time: first, as a conveyor of information (origin and quality) regarding goods and/or services and second, as a conveyor of image or meaning (power, value and/or personality). (2008:6)

Schroeder (2009) argues that brands can also be viewed as cultural artefacts. (Cited by Avis, 2009). Schroeder (2005:2) also argues that, “(s)uccessful artists – those that manage to have their work widely exhibited, bought, and collected – may be seen as twin engines of branding knowledge, both as consummate image managers, and as managers of their own brand – the artist.” This statement strongly implies that various concepts on several layers are involved and operational in the convoluted process of brand conceptualization, establishment and management. ‘Brand’ does not therefore merely equate to a ‘product’.

Management guru Tom Peters popularised the personal brand phrase in his 1997 article for Fast Company: “The Brand Called You,” which advises, “You’re not a worker...You are not defined by your job title and you’re not confined by your job description. Starting today you are a brand”.

Not everyone agrees Peters’ view. Rob Horning argues in his July 2011 article The Accidental Bricoleurs that “ When identity serves explicitly as a capital stock to be risked in ventures as opposed to something that exceeds or exists outside the dynamics of the market, we exist only insofar as we see ourselves profiting, we see our brand equity growing (or, alas, shrinking). We don’t exist when we refuse to see how our brand plays in the market-driven world.” He also refers to Thomas Frank’s reference to Peter’s article in One Market Under God in 2000, where Frank ‘found it almost self-evident that personal branding was a form of coercive selfsurveillance that corporations were anxious to induce. He heralded “The Brand Called You” as “a terrifying glimpse of the coming total-corporate state, a sort of Dress for Success rewritten by Chairman Mao.’

If one is to be true to Moore and Reid’s view of brands, a commercial-only view of brands should be avoided. Sterling Branding defines brand as the emotional shorthand for a wealth of accumulated or assumed information. Brands therefore tell stories. Memorable and successful brands are usually tied to a notable story, and may be a prominent part of the “design” of personal brand identity. In the esoteric area of art as a very personal choice and expression, stories that supplement the artistic “story” of the artist and his or her products can become “the carriers of view, beliefs, motivations, and values of other human minds, inculcating potentially adaptive interpersonal and social capacities. They extend mind-reading capabilities that begin in infancy and come into full flower in adult sociality. Stories provide regulation for social behaviour” (Dutton, 2009: 119). It logically follows that any artist who essentially tells stories through his or her products, relics and artifacts should also have a personal story as a person – ergo, a brand.

While artists are often busy with so-called “high culture” thinking and works, there is also a need for visibility and recognition if the “artist’s brand” is to be successful and viable – which intensifies the probable need for, amongst myriad other variables, a convincing brand story.

The story of how an artist has evolved into a brand with his or her associated artifacts can ultimately be the most convincing element in a landscape of barrages of brand communication messages at various brand contact points.

This article was originally written by Thys de Beer for the 12th Edition of Pomp, and published in 2011.

Photo credit: Vladimir Tretchikoff, Chinese Girl (1952), Photographer, Carina Beyer.