At this weekend's fairs, really start 'seeing' the artists

A trio of popular art fairs arrives in Minneapolis this weekend (Uptown, Powderhorn Park and Loring Park), which means one thing. The "be-backs" are coming.

Be-backs, I have learned, are what artists call people who stroll into their booths and promise to return. In other words, people like me. Most of us simply cannot admit to the dedicated creators of objets d'art that we don't like it, don't get it, would never own such a thing, or love it on a cosmic level but can't afford it now or ever. Sure we'll be back. When pigs fly.

How do they do it then, it being deal with us, the throngs of us asking the same questions over and over, bargaining as if we were at our neighborhood yard sale, wounding egos with the roll of an eye?

Journalists get our own dose of feedback, of course, my favorite being a caller who told me, "I liked everything about that column but the writing." But we can, and often do, (shhhh) filter phone calls and e-mails, at least until we can unravel from the fetal position under our desks.

It's not so with professional artists who bravely display their wares in public. "One big shot of feedback" is how fiber artist Deborah Foutch of Minneapolis (www.deborahfoutch.com) describes the many art shows she does annually. "Sometimes, people talk about you and your work like you're not even there."

A fiber artist and dollmaker who will be at Powderhorn Park Saturday and Sunday, she laughs recalling one customer who looked at her dolls and asked, "Who ARE these people?"

Early in her 25-year career, Foutch reacted to negative feedback by "throwing up." No more. "It's really not about me," Foutch said. "Either they like it or they don't. It's fine." Besides, feedback can be useful, she said. "When the work connects with someone, it's like evolution. I tell myself, 'I'm going to do that more.'"

"Some actually do come back," said Gohman, a Loring Park art fair veteran. Her beef is with the fortunately few know-it-alls who challenge her prices. "One guy said, 'I'm from New York and I know what it cost you to make that.'" She pointed out that he may have forgotten to add in her years of professional experience, hours of labor, the shifting prices of sterling and gold, and juried art show entry fees, for starters.

"He was kind of embarrassed," she said. "He bought the piece for his daughter."

Leather artisan Ann Ringness (www.annringness.com) of St. Cloud gets the, "If I buy two, can I have a discount?" question on occasion. "Look around," she responds, "and if you see anything more reasonable, let me know."

She's confident they won't find a better deal. Bargainers, she said, may not understand that most festival artists make their living this way. "I do well, but health insurance and show expenses are just crazy," said Ringness, who will be showing her work at Loring Park. The tough economy has taken a bite out of art sales, too, she said.

Still, I was relieved to hear that artists don't expect, or even want to sell to everyone. "I do want to feel like I'm doing something different enough so that it's not totally universal," said Mike Tonder (www.blueskiesglassworks.com), a glass artist from northern Minnesota who has displayed at the Uptown Art Fair for nearly 20 years. (He's the one who clued me in about be-backs.)

Photographer Xavier Nuez (www.nuez.com) of Chicago agrees that doing the art fairs is hard work. "Lots of people walk by and ignore you. Or you have to be on, but you don't always feel like talking. You have to sit there in the heat, the rain," said Nuez, the 2010 Commemorative Print Artist for the Uptown Art Fair, which begins Friday.

"But the bottom line is that I'm really grateful that art fairs exist, that there is a venue outside of galleries to sell my work."

So, art fair lovers, a quick review: Smile at the pros in their tents. Ask questions about how their art is made. Tell them what you like. If you don't like it, relax. Someone else does. Don't promise to come back unless you mean it. If you do buy, pay the asking price. Then take it home and thank your lucky stars that there are people in the world who specialize in creating beauty or whimsy or something that makes us laugh or think.

"My sisters have corporate jobs," said Brenna Busse (www.brennabusse.com), who creates mixed-media figures she'll display at Powderhorn. She compares their work life to hers where, even if she does everything right -- applies to and pays show fees on time, creates her art, remains on her feet chatting with customers for up to 12 hours a day -- she still might not make a penny.

"This offers a profound understanding of what we do," Busse said. She'd have it no other way. "People need art," Busse said. "It just opens their hearts to have it in their homes. That's why I do shows. It's the hardest thing I do and the thing I love the most."