Some companies are getting so good at simulating a handmade look on a mass-produced item that the public has trouble determining what justifies an artisan’s prices for a candle or a picture frame, for example, when they can buy a similar-looking one at the mall for a third of the price.

The mass production of well-designed, craft-like items also means artists can anticipate more knock-offs as well as competition for their work. The pressure to create well-designed goods at a minimal cost means that manufacturers may find it more cost effective to get “inspiration” from the work of artists in the crafts marketplace rather than hire artists to create new designs.

Mark Sottnick, an independent design consultant for the company that owns Target and Marshall Fields stores, says there’s always a danger of knock-offs. “Ideas are extremely difficult to protect,” says Sottnick. “But if a company looks in the marketplace and finds a really good design, hopefully, they’ll come to [the artist]. If good design is your life blood, and someone is making good designs, it’s not in your best interest to knock-it-off.”

It may not be in a company’s best interest, but it does happen. And since the cost of pursuing a copyright lawsuit can approach six figures before anything is settled, many artists may not have the resources to protect the ownership of their work. Some large corporations find the low risk of a lawsuit worth taking for the potential of easy profits.

Big Business and the Artists

Metalsmith Sandra Bonazoli discovered in June that a kitchen goods manufacturer had reproduced a set of her pewter measuring spoons in stainless steel.

Since the spoons are the signature line of her company, Beehive Kitchenware, Bonazoli has been talking to an attorney about a lawsuit, which promises to be costly. “It seems like it’s not a matter of who’s right and who’s wrong, but who’s willing to spend the money on the lawsuit,” says Bonazoli.
Her line of spoons easily accounts for more than 50 percent of Beehive Kitchenware’s total business, so she may have to bear the cost. “We’re frightened,” she says. “[The spoons are] such a huge part of our business. If this floods the market, it could be trouble. We’re hoping it’s not going to put us out of business, but it could.”

Bonazoli also worries about the broader implications of corporate theft. “When someone takes our design and has it made overseas, it affects not only me, my husband and my employees, but … our contractors and our suppliers, which are all based locally. It could potentially have a huge ripple effecton our community.”

Sculptor Peter Diepenbrock, whose whimsical functional objects range from candlesticks to bottle openers, switched sides instead of fighting when faced with copying of his work. “I decided that if I was going to get knocked off anyway, I ought to get paid,” he says. “I decided if I ever had the opportunity to design for a larger company, I should take advantage of it.” That decision landed him a few jobs, including a contract with Umbra to design a set of picture frames and a job designing silverware for Dansk.

These days, Diepenbrock doesn’t go to trade shows. Instead he shows his large-scale sculptures through his retail gallery and has cut his production line down to a handful of items. “If you show at the gift shows, there’s such pressure to make things for less,” he notes. “You really feel you have to go overseas [to save on labor costs].” Since Diepenbrock never felt comfortable going that route, he has decided not to compete with mass production.
Matthew Bird, who runs risd|works, the retail gallery of the Rhode Island School of Design, says the cross-pollination of big business and good design could benefit artists if some changes were made. “That big companies like Target are getting the public involved in design is very exciting,” Bird says. “But right now, it’s being done in the worst possible way. Companies interested in retooling designs should involve the original artist. Why not take the power to reproduce and do something exciting with it?”

Bird also points out that the reason that stories like Bonazoli’s are so heartbreaking is that she would have loved to produce her spoons in stainless steel herself, but that the cost of doing so as an independent artist was prohibitive.

Bonazoli concurs with his view and Bird believes it would be great if an organization like Aid to Artisans could set up a program in the United States for artists who want to make inexpensive production lines domestically or who want to work with artisans overseas. That way the original artist could afford to make and sell the cheaper version that appeals to many buyers.

Up Side of Mass Marketing

One positive effect of good design in mass-produced items may be increased opportunities for licensing agreements for artists.

Metal artist Karen Rossi says that licensing agreements have been great for her business. Her first contract with Silvestri sold $5.5 million in wholesale, a “shocking success” for everyone involved, according to Rossi. Since then, Rossi has worked on “developing the brand,” which has meant creating prototypes for new designs, landing new licensing agreements, and appearing at galleries and trade shows in addition to creating her one-of-a-kind metal sculptures, mobiles and stabiles.

Although some customers, and fellow artists have accused her of “selling out” or “bringing the American craft industry down,” Rossi thinks licensing is a viable option for many artists. Her contracts specify no child labor and require the use of reputable companies and Rossi believes the overseas production of her work is good for the countries where it is produced.

Rossi says licensing has also been good for her art. “To my eye, my work is much better than it was three years ago — the lines, the color, the pattern,” she says. “And the more I do, the more I want to do. I really think it’s something craft artists and fine artists should look at.”

Sandra Magsamen also has good things to say about mass production. Magsamen, whose Table Tiles designs are found on fabric, purses and books in the displays of craft galleries and gift stores around the country, says she is pleased that big business is now marketing design. “I think it’s done a lot for enhancing a growing population’s sense of design, art, fun and whimsy,” she says. “Things should be designed beautifully. You don’t have to be rich to afford good design and I like that they’ve reminded us of that.”

As for her participation in mass production, Magsamen says it’s right for her. “My work is about communication, and I really wanted my work to be available at this level.” The key, according to Magsamen, is to pick great companies, and to have absolutely clear communication about the artist’s goals and the company’s goals.

Still, she says, it’s not for everyone. “You just have to find your own center and decide how you measure success. It’s been a gift to me; it’s been wonderful.”

Public Needs to Learn Value and Cost of Good Design

Sottnick sees a “systematic raising of taste” through the mass introduction of good design. “[Stores like Target have] made people consider the possibility of good design in everyday items,” he says. “I don’t think that Target selling Michael Graves teapots is harming the market for art.” When big business starts selling good design, Sottnick says, it educates a whole new segment of the population.

That may already be starting to happen. Bird says that people often come into his store, which sells both handmade and mass-produced items designed by RISD alumni and faculty, looking for a handmade, signed item for under $30.

“ There seems to be an elevated understanding of the handmade,” Bird says. “People who wouldn’t have asked for it before want it to be made in America, they want handmade, but they’re not willing to pay for it.”

But Bird feels optimistic about these customers because they know there’s something of value in the handmade item, so all he has to do is educate them about its worth. “I can work on people to show them the difference between the $40 handmade item and the $10 manufactured one,” he says.

Unfortunately, some businesses haven’t been able to wait while the public gets educated. At the struggling Brooklyn Women’s Exchange in Brooklyn, N.Y., Carol Turner sells and takes orders for handmade smocked dresses and sweaters that cost three times as much in Madison Avenue boutiques. Even so, many of the customers who come through her door balk at paying $60 for a child’s hand-smocked dress.

As the Exchange works to avoid the fate of their Manhattan counterpart, the New York Exchange for Women’s Work that closed earlier this year, such complete ignorance and under-appreciation of the handcrafted is disheartening.

“ Times are really tough [economically] for people,” says Turner. “Mass production has definitely killed us. People like the idea of getting something they’re not going to see all over the place, but … don’t [understand] what it takes to make a sweater.”

Lucy LaCoste at LaCoste Gallery in Concord, Mass., thinks that the popularity of mass-produced items also may be raising the bar for galleries and artists. “We do sell some production lines [by individual artisans], and sell them well, but the work has to be well priced, well made, and handmade,” she says. “The more the commercial work ‘looks like handmade’ work, the harder it is to sell the handmade work. If people can’t tell the difference, they won’t be attracted to [artists’ works].”

The consensus among gallery owners and artists is that the very best handmade work will always sell. And artists who make one-of-a-kind items don’t suffer from the shifting retail market as much as those artists whose businesses depend heavily on production lines. People recognize when a person has put their own sweat and their soul into a piece of art, and that type of work can never be replaced by machine or committee.

Kara Laughlin is a free-lance writer who specializes in writing about art and craft. She lives in Urbana, Ill.