WHY PORTSORT?
All my life I've admired the inherent talent of commercial illustrators.
I never was good enough to do what they do. Although I've had a few of
my illustrations published, I guess I'd still classify myself as an
"illustrator wannabe." Creative talent is driven to create -- they have
no choice but to create. I want to help ensure that commercial
illustrators don't get ripped off along the way.
So, since 1997, I've worked on the development of an Internet-based,
cooperative organization of select commercial illustrators,
PortSort.com. It's a project that gratifies both my artistic and
activist sensibilities.
Those mammoth printed creative source directories had their day -- they
were a great alternative to schlepping portfolios around town. Now,
though, the Internet brings creative source directories right onto the
art buyer's desk (or lap), without the millions of dollars needed to
print all those books (not to mention the weight). However, unlike
PortSort.com, most Internet-based "directories" are open to anyone
willing to pay the display fee, regardless of talent. For busy art
directors, that's way too much marginal talent to plow through.
Compounding the haze is the enormous size of the World Wide Web. If an
illustrator tries to display a personal Web site, how is an art buyer
supposed to find it among the hundreds of thousands of personal artist
sites? If you're an illustrator, membership in a recognized web site of
select commercial illustrators is the best way to market yourself.
In my opinion, stock image databases, printed source directories and
"pay for display" web sites -- all owned by huge corporations with
unlimited resources -- want to set up endless "toll booths" across an
illustrator's path to find clients. These corporate entities want to
control illustrators' access to the business community -- to clients.
But illustrators cannot afford to lose control of this access. Then
there's the huge impact of "clip art" and stock houses on the commercial
art business.
The logical solution is to have our own illustrator-controlled access.
The problems posed by corporate gatekeepers, the crowded World Wide Web
and the creeping "clip art" mentality can be addressed. How can
illustrators get fair prices for their creations? How can they protect
their intellectual property rights? We can do it by cooperating and
standing firm. Illustrators need to gain self-respect and
self-confidence, foster respect for the art and craft of illustration
and evidence a businesslike attitude about themselves and their craft.
The illustrators and I that contribute to PortSort.com believe our type
of organization is the best way to do business in today's high-speed
commercial art world. We've taken advantage of the equalizing power of
the Internet to help the illustrator and art buyer do business
equitably, effectively, and efficiently. I believe that the Internet
will allow illustrators to control their own access to the business
community, rather than remain subject to the control of large corporate
entities like Corbis-Getty, pay-for-display web sites, and print source
directories that set up inefficient roadblocks and expensive toll booths
in our path.
As trends dictate, the market will continue to demand excellent
illustration. Art buyers need our help for them to find us. Our goal at
PortSort.com is to create a database of the highest quality creative
talent available, a database that will become a truly useful resource
tool for all art buyers.
We must continue to demand respect and equitable treatment. "Our purpose
is to perpetuate a member (controlled) organization that all may trust
to be equitable, just and effective" -- it's right there in our Bylaws.
Through cooperative action and recognition of a new sense of value for
illustrators, I believe we can take back control of our creative
business.
THE PORTSORT COOPERATIVE TALENT MODEL
There are currently over 300 member-illustrators of PortSort.com. I'm
the President and CEO, but the member-illustrators really control the
organization through their vote. Member-illustrators display their work
on Portsort.com for free, but membership is by invitation only.
Prospective members must submit samples of their work. The database of
illustrators is reviewed and culled annually by a Selection Committee of
recognized industry professionals. The Selection Committee, approved by
PortSort.com members, helps ensure that only marketable talent is
represented. When the advertising and marketing program produces a
project for a member-illustrator, PortSort.com manages the contractual
agreement, billing and collection. PortSort gets a 25% commission, which
goes right back into Portsort.com to pay for more advertising and
marketing, as well as PortSort's operating expenses. In this model, the
most successful illustrators support emerging talent.
WHO IS THIS GUY, ANYWAY?
Perhaps you're wondering "Who is this Woody Coleman, and what's his
story?" If not, just click the "Back" button and get on with whatever
you really want to do. But if you are, read on...
Mom was a model in Chicago. [She still has a head sheet at age 82.) Some
of my earliest memories are of taking the train to downtown Chicago and
watching a photo shoot with my mom in some mayonnaise commercial. Dad
worked on factory installations and moved the family dozens of times – I
went to 14 different schools between 6th grade and 10th grade. The folks
got divorced, which was pretty rare in the 1950s. During the critical
teen years, I ended up settling down with Dad in a suburb of Cleveland.
I've been here ever since.
I started in the commercial illustration business at age 13. No joke. My
illustration of a celery cell was even published in 1960, in Dr. Hans
Elias' book "Human Microanatomy." Was I equitably compensated? No way! I
had no idea what my illustration was worth, and no mentor or
representative to protect my interests.
My first full time job was as an "artist" for a company that advertised
"hand crafted lamps." This job required me to air brush thousands of
"greenware" lamp bases with ground glass glazes, known for destroying
the respiratory system. There had to be a better way to make a living as
a "commercial artist!"
Soon after graduating from high school in 1962, it was time to get
married. (Hey, in those days, everybody got married after high school.)
Two years later, I had two kids (Carrie and Vickie) and a real job --
running errands and cleaning water bowls as an apprentice artist at one
of the best art studios in town -- for $20 a week and a bus pass. This
was the turbulent 60s, and I had a full beard and hair down my back.
I volunteered as a "hippie" Scoutmaster, and ended up staying for twelve
years, mentoring six Eagle Scouts as well as working to stop the Vietnam
War. (I still see some of those Old Brooklyn boys of Troop #34.) I
managed to land a board artist position at Artist Studios (which is
still in business today), and received my certification from the Cooper
School of Art. Now I was finally getting into the thick of it. Remember
the commercial art industry in the 1960s and 1970s with the Westinghouse
account, Cleveland was actually 4th in the nation for agency billings
and creativity. (It's now ranked about 26th.)
Exciting times -- in more ways than one -- during the 1960s and 1970s. I
worked a succession of unrewarding jobs as print production manager, art
director and creative director for a number of agency, corporate, and
public institutions. Finally, in 1973, I decided to forge ahead on my
own, and founded a series of small studios: Woody and Company,
Imagemakers Enterprise, and Rumple, Inc. I also affiliated with the
Council of Smaller Enterprises, where I took courses in small business
management.
Not many studios left today, eh? Back then, we did it all under one
roof: creative concepts, comps, layouts, keylining, type specifications,
typesetting both hot and cold (we used to put baby powder on the type
proofs to keep them from smearing), hand lettering, photostats, charts,
flip charts, story boards, graphs, diagrams, photography, retouching,
photo outlining, rubylith overlays, AV programs, and, of course,
illustrations.
At Rumple, Inc., we employed some of the best local illustrators in the
business some still with us and displayed. On PortSort. We designed the
logo still used today for the city of Cleveland by its Growth
Association, as well as lots of other high-profile projects. I had
sixteen employees and managed all sales, marketing, advertising, and
client services, as well as directed all design and production
operations. We had a lot of fun at Rumple, and did really well. Clients
included TRW, Greater Cleveland Growth Association, Cuyahoga Community
College, SCM Corporation, General Tire, and B.F. Goodrich. We won the
Silver Excellence Award from CSCA and the Silver Award from the
Cleveland Advertising Club. In 1977, we won Gold and Silver ADDY's from
the American Advertising Federation. I sponsored an interagency company
softball team, the Rumple Rockets. And to give you a little more
Cleveland lore, we often sat at table #13 in the Pewter Mug.
Protecting an artist's copyright interests was, and is, one of my main
activist causes, and I aggressively advocated for the passage of the
1979 Copyright Act. I took Tad Crawford's copyright law course in NY,
met a lot of new friends, and started thinking of new possibilities for
illustrators and graphic artists after the new copyright law changed the
landscape.
In the midst of all of this, I got divorced and remarried. In the 1980s,
I had two more kids (Melanie and Melissa), but also got divorced again.
Go figure. I did manage to keep my pre-Civil War era farmhouse, which
I've restored and continuously added to.
In the 1980s, the commercial art industry really started to change.
Computers were causing major technological disruption. Designers were
setting type. Everyone was specializing, and the "studio," (now called a
"design firm"), just didn't seem to work anymore. Illustrators had to go
home to work and were slow to react, not really believing that a
computer could take from them what it took them a lifetime to learn.
What really bothered me was the way illustrators were continuously being
taken advantage of -- either by ridiculously low fees, loss of copyright
rights, or both.
In 1983, after selling Rumple Inc., I founded Woody Coleman Presents, a
creative service agency. (Catchy name, huh?) I gathered a core group of
superb illustrators, such as Vladimir Kordic (the premier "Americana"
illustrator); Ezra Tucker (a highly respected animal illustrator who
could add a little magic to any situation); John Letostak (top
Rockwellian oil painter); and The Seward family of artists who could
illustrate anything from high end portraits to situation imagery for
religious publishing.
I was one of the first to buy into the "new" way of doing representative
business by paying for multi-page display advertising in the Creative
Black Book. Exciting times then too. I managed the marketing and
advertising of creative talent, as well as their contractual agreements,
billing, and collections. I particularly enjoyed advising and counseling
illustrators regarding optimal portfolio development and copyright
negotiations. Clients included Levi's, Guess?, Pepsi, Miller Brewing,
Budweiser, Seagram Beverages, Bantam, Ballantine, Simon and Schuster,
and World Book.
During this time, I met my current wife, Laura. She's a law librarian
(and former medical librarian) and has many of the same activist
leanings as me. During the 1980's and 1990's, I've been a fair housing
"undercover tester;" wrote and won a $100,000 recycling program grant
for my city from the state of Ohio; volunteered on a regional litter
advisory board; and participated in many activist demonstrations.
Now we're pretty much back to the beginning. My daughters are all grown
and launched. Carrie is married with two children and a radiology
technician. (Grandpa Woody is quite popular with the kids.) Vickie is
married and a high-powered market research analyst, also works for
PortSort as business development consultant. Melanie and Missy are going
to college and working. Look out, world, for my girls! My wife Laura is
working on her Ph.D. in history, just to have a little something
interesting to do after retiring.
Me? I've spent the last few years developing an Internet-based
cooperative organization of select commercial illustrators. If, after
retirement, I can leave something in perpetuity, it would be a
self-sustaining cooperative organization that has fine-tuned the art of
doing business in a very competitive world.
THE GOOD/BAD OLD DAYS - AND THE GOOD/BAD NEW DAYS
I can't help smiling a bit when I see illustrators today talking about
their Masters' degrees. In the "old days," the only thing that mattered
was your portfolio and how many creative awards you'd won.
I was a charter member of the Cleveland chapter of the Graphic Artists
Guild back in 1967, when Marty Anderson started the first Guild (the
Detroit Guild) and traveled to Cleveland to help us form our chapter.
Meetings were quite loud, with lots of screaming and threats of a punch
in the mouth if you didn't agree. (Even in those days, artists were very
independent!) We did, however, finally organize with a signed charter.
Early in the 1970s, I joined the American Institute of Graphic Artists
and the Cleveland Society of Communicating Artists. (You should have
been there when Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, showed a
"film" at one of C.S.C.A.'s meetings!)
At that time, rights to reproduction were non-existent. There was no
negotiation. You either took the job for the pay offered -- or you hit
the bricks. Being a commercial artist was on the same level as working a
trade job, only for a lot less money. If an agency bought an
illustration, they owned everything, including your right to show it as
a sample. Even the original art was theirs; it usually went home to an
executive's living room wall.
Pricing was all over the board, and had nothing to do with trade ads or
national consumer projects.
Here's just an example to show you how the system "worked" in those
days. In 1974 we had a business card for Rumple Studios that featured a
stylized illustration of a frog. Sherwin William's Paints and Wyse
Advertising, decided they wanted to use the image they found on our
business card, which had been given to them by one of our salesmen. They
printed our frog, directly and exactly, in a national advertising
campaign, complete with fold-out spreads in Better Homes & Gardens
Magazine (as well as many other publications). The ad stated that you
could turn "a frog into a prince of a family room" -- and had our frog
graphed so you could blow it up to wall size and paint it directly on to
your family room wall!
Since we were never asked, or paid, by them for its use, we were a
little put out.
We sued them and lost in the 6th circuit court of appeals. In fact the
court didn't address the issue as this was before the 1978 Copyright
Act. The opposing brief cited the 1913 case of "Vassar College vs.
Vassar Chocolates a.k.a. Loose-Wiles Biscuit Co.", which complained:
"It is substantially charged in the bill that the packages containing
that candy and the advertisements there of employ the name of Vassar, a
likeness of a young lady in scholastic garb and wearing a mortarboard
hat, an imitation of the college pennant, a college yell, and an
imitation of the college seal, with the words 'Vassar Chocolates' and
'Always fresh' substituted for the words 'Vassar College' and 'Purity
and Wisdom.'"
The outcome of that long-ago case was that Vassar Chocolates could use
Vassar College's logo and sell chocolates as though they were a fund
raiser for Vassar College. The theory was that (A) the college couldn't
seek remedy under trademark law because the goods each party sold were
substantially different; (B) a loss couldn't be proven since Vassar
College had made reproductions of the logo on school pennants and gave
them away free, therefore they didn't hold any value in the logo; and
(C) seeking the only recourse, available. the
"Complainant charges that it is thereby brought into public contempt and
ridicule, and that, because thereof, its business is injured, and its
graduates and students humiliated."
However, the Court found that "I am unable to perceive that any right
exists in complainant which is cognizable in a court of equity; nor can
I perceive any injury which this court has power to remedy. The
injurious effects, if any, of the advertisements complained of, are
speculative in the highest degree. They seem to me to be largely
creations of fancy, due to supersensitiveness and apprehension. They are
lodged rather in a feeling of distaste on the part of those interested
in Vassar College for seeing its name and insignia, inferentially at
least, linked with any commercial pursuit, than in any appreciable
injury to its tangible property..."
So the wise judges used to think that the theft of IP, were "largely
creations of fancy, supersensitiveness and apprehension", and that no
injury or harm was done. Next case?
Eventually, most artists had enough of getting the short end of the
stick every time they tried to reason with the agencies. The Detroit
Guild finally went on strike (while the Cleveland Guild cowered in
fear), and was squashed like a bug. The Cleveland Guild went out of
business. Some of its organizers were blackballed, and a lot of people
went into other lines of work.
I get a little irritated when I hear artists who think that negotiating
for reproduction rights was something that was always the way things
were done. Illustrators have the Graphic Artists Guild to thank for the
1978 copyright act, Tad Crawford and Ted Kennedy along with the
illustrators and Mart Anderson who took the great risk of financial ruin
and founded the Guild.
Woody Coleman
CEO PortSort.com
An Illustrator Controlled Cooperative