TRAPPINGS OF TEXAS, the annual invitational juried western art and cowboy gear show at the Museum of the Big Bend is a premier show for collectors and artists. The location: a recently restored stone building on the lovely Sul Ross University campus in scenic Alpine, Texas. The ambiance: genuine, honest-to-God western, as Trappings is held in the heart of cowboy country in conjunction with the Cowboy Poetry Gathering. The exhibit: intimate, well-lit, tasteful, attended by discerning locals and loyal collectors.
 
I took Best of Show in Art there in 2007. I'd love this show even if it wasn't so well-executed.
 
2009, my third year of inclusion in Trappings has me looking forward to it as a reunion with other artists and patrons of western art as well as a venue for showing my paintings to a broad audience. Museum Director Larry Francell and his assistant, Liz Jackson, along with curator Mary Bones and the rest of the small, dedicated  museum staff work overtime to pull off the party of the year—a lavishly laid out spread of food and drink hosted at the museum the night before the exhibit officially opens. (I hold that food and drink sell art better than no food and no drink. One woman's opinion. Think about it—shrimp, strawberries and wine, as well as anything involving chocolate cannot be wrong when one is contemplating an investment in art.)

Behind the scenes, these tough-skinned museum folks juggle the sometimes petty, sometimes critical needs and demands of us artists, our collectors, and the show's generous sponsors. A working cowboy who spends untold hours tooling one leather belt or casting a set of silver spurs while the cattle are sleeping doesn't necessarily want the same thing from the show that I do. It's up to the museum people to see to it that our offerings complement each other. Beyond the aesthetics, this fun time for all is a money-raising event that funds annual programming for this remarkable little award-winning museum. Food, conversation, fine art  brings money for the museum to sponsor kids programs, special exhibits, more fun things. Who can beat a deal like that? All the museum asks of us creative types is a donation for Saturday morning's live public auction, or a very reasonable commission on any sales.

Some artists and gearmakers opt to pay the commission if they sell. To me, donating a nice painting to this worthy cause is a no-brainer. I gladly pay my gallery a hefty commission for every painting sold directly or indirectly through their efforts. Because Kiowa Gallery—also there in Alpine, just down the railroad track a ways from the museum— represents me so diligently and with such integrity, I also pay Kiowa that same commission on my Trappings sales. I don't have to do that. But I believe you get what you pay for, and thus far in our relationship, gallery owner Keri Artzt hasn't proved me wrong. If you've been adding this on an abacus, by now you realize that I don't get all that much money from my paintings, so don't wait for me to pick up your dinner check unless maybe we've dined at Nel's Coffeeshop in Fort Davis, that because it's so reasonably priced and also, because Nelda and Jerry are good friends and I want them to stay in business a long time. A little digression there. Maybe I'll get one of their chocolate chip cookies out of this plug. Anyway, I hand over commission money all the time. In this case, I have a chance to put one more painting out there.

Because I don't do prints of my work (my fine art greeting cards do frame up handsomely, but even those are hand-produced by my own little fingers)  I'm darn stingy with my paintings. I rarely discount them, because that isn't fair to the collector who pays full price—and trust me, I'm not running a garge sale out here.  It follows that if I give you an original, you are way more than special to me. Or else, I've sadistically decided to curse you with something you must quickly drag from the closet to hang when I visit. (You know who you are. Those mothballs stuck on the frame are a dead giveaway.)

There's only so much of me to go around. In my lifetime, no matter how hard I work at it, I'll produce a finite number of finished paintings, and not all of them will be good. When asked for a donation (and I'm asked all the time, so when I say no, don't take it personally) I choose my causes wisely. I donate one or two pieces a year, maybe three...and the Trappings auction gets first dibs.

By being extremely discriminating who I donate to, I can afford to give nice paintings.  I'm a hard-core advocate of donating not just my work, but work I'm proud of.  When the auctioneer holds up one of my paintings to open the bidding, he's holding me up there. "Here's Lindy's soul. She wants to know what you think its worth today. Do I hear five...?" Some auctions go better than others. Last year, my donated piece went several hundred dollars higher than retail, making it the highest selling auction item. That's the exception. People love to get a bargain. But I don't want someone to get a bargain culled from my colorful stack of "I learned about painting from this"  works. I plan each Trappings painting, paint each the best I can. I don't then go through them and choose the weakest one to give away.



CATTLE COUNTRY   14" X 18" pastel by Lindy C Severns   $2350 retail
Trappings of Texas 2009 Live Auction donation

Like the other three Trappings paintings, I planned this year's Trappings auction donation to fit my chosen theme of isolation in open spaces. I cut my canvas (I only use Kitty Wallis museum-grade pastel "paper") to a size equal to my largest entry.  Okay, it is more modestly framed than the three that will hang. (Kiowa Gallery graciously donated that piece's framing to the museum.) Framing's the only difference in quality, and it's still quite nicely framed.

Maybe it's the colors. Or because this painting depicts my home turf,. I think this is my favorite of the four.

No, I won't get any money from this sale, but when the auctioneer opens the bidding, I won't cringe, embarassed at being represented by something less than I'm capable of.  I won't worry that someone will buy this one for pennies, deduct it from their taxes then stuff it under moth-eaten blankets in a forgotten closet.

I know how much my soul is worth, and I won't sell less. The rest is only about money.

To see my other Trappings paintings, or to browse through other paintings that I do get money for, visit my website at OldSpanishTrailStudio.com.  For information about Trappings, preview party tickets, the auction, whatever, email ejackson@sulross.edu

And don't forget to visit Nel's Coffeeshop when you're in Fort Davis. Use my name and I may even get a cookie out of it.