Hazel Friedman

If sport is the opiate of the masses then culture is their social currency. And if there are any lessons to be learnt from football, it is that the team which cannot adapt, falls; and that one must always keep an eye on the ball. So what does this Fifa-esque homily have to do with the successful operation of an art gallery? On a prima facie basis, not much, apart from the fact that at the Everard Read Gallery in Cape Town the polite tones so typical of the sanctified art spaces are being violated by the collective trumpet of the vuvuzela brigade outside.

These unexpected punctuation marks in the otherwise staid syntax of the art gallery provide the Cape Town ER with a refreshingly serendipitous identity. And in the fifteen years that the Cape Town gallery has been open for business, the art of dribbling and handling curved balls are skills Charles Shields and David Tripp have obviously acquired.
Launched in September 1996, the gallery was established as a satellite version of its Johannesburg counterpart — occupying a small shop window at the V&A Waterfront.
"We were little more than a cave," recalls Shields. "We had no pristine white cube in which to work, no mailing list. And, quite frankly, our competitors were cynical about our chances of success."

Adds Tripp: "The art world in Cape Town was much more parochial and conservative than it is now. But despite the odds, by 1999, when we moved to our current premises, we had evolved from shop window mode into a dynamic art destination with a separate identity and life of its own."

Bordering the V&A Waterfront, in Portswood Road, the gallery still maintains a synergy with the Johannesburg ER, while embracing the motley constituencies of tourists thronging the area and a client-base that includes blue chip collectors.

"We provide a niche service to a buying public who enjoy coming here and like what we do. These collectors sustain the gallery. We also try to demystify the aloof, sometimes alienating environment of the art gallery by making it accessible to everyone and encouraging visitors to feel comfortable in the space."
"Make no mistake," cautions Tripp, "art buyers are generally sophisticated creatures with their own opinions, who choose to be guided by our authority. We adopt a temperate, measured approach, providing a gauge of what the market will pay. "
While the Cape Town ER's principal mandate of showcasing figurative contemporary art hasn't shifted, Tripp and Shields don't suffer from risk aversion when it comes to artists they believe in. Although they "inherited" a substantial stable of established and emerging contemporary artists, they are always seeking new talent.
"We look at images all day" says Tripp. "We hate to discourage any artist who crosses our threshold, even those whose work we cannot exhibit. "
Adds Shields: "Both of us have an emotional response to the art. We want to be moved by great work and move others in turn. And we will go out on a limb for artists in whom we believe, even if they are commercially risky."
Included on their belt of recent risky ventures are curated shows like the quirkily titled 'Sex, Power, Money' — a satirical riposte against the excessive consumption that precipitated the global economic recession. The exhibition's press release reads: If ‘Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘n Roll’ typified the 60s and 70s, then it is fair to say that more recent decades will be remembered as the time of ‘Sex, Power & Money’."
Despite a bearish economy Sex, Power and Money enjoyed a bullish response.
"The show reinforced the fact that in a recession we have to survive on the success of local sales", says Tripp, "and that our sustainability depends on our ability to adapt to the times."
And nowhere is the symbiosis between art and economy more delicately negotiated than through the complex relationship between art-makers — the artists — clients and the intermediaries who close the deals.
"We stock a wide repertoire of artists and works because our clients' tastes change," explains Shields, "and as dealers we have to be more fluid than traditional gallerists. We don't simply market exhibiting artists but constantly seek out and showcase individual works by both new and established names - even those who do not exhibit regularly."
He adds: "The relationship between the artist and dealer is tantamount to a marriage and it is predicated on compromise and sometimes serendipity."
The marriage metaphor is apt because, while they might not exactly complete each other's sentences, the synergy between Tripp and Shields is unmistakable. Theirs is clearly a partnership spawned in gallerists' heaven. They jokingly refer to themselves as Laurel and Hardy and share an office, probably spending more time together than with their respective spouses. Tripp is the gregarious, jocular corporate lawyer-turned-dealer, while Shields earned his art stripes by literally licking stamps for exhibition invitations at the Joburg Everard Read, and trawling the townships in search of undiscovered talent. Tripp provides business acumen; Shields an impressive understanding of art history.
"We've had occasional disagreements but generally we're pretty much in sync in our choices and vision for the gallery, Tripp insists. "This is a no-ego zone and neither of our names will ever be exclusively on the door."
Adds Shields: " There is no single model for success. But doing it right entails attaining a balance between diplomacy and guidance, mollycoddling and maintaining a firm grip on artistic reins."
Not to mention juggling, dribbling and catching curved balls.