Hey that’s my duck: Wildlife painters fight infringement

Hey that’s my duck: Wildlife painters fight infringement

Friday, October 8th, 2010 by Lucinda M. Dugger  Print This Post If you ever have the opportunity to listen in on a conversation between a group of visual artists – such as painters and sculptures – you’ll hear them debate the differences between fine art, craft, and commercial art. The conversation will eventually drift into a much heated discussion about “selling out” and the merits of pursuing a specific “type” of show venue versus “taking whatever comes along.”
Though many artists debate these topics until their faces are blue, others seem to develop their careers with their hands in many pots. Graffiti and graphic artist Shepard Fairey enjoys the thrill of walking that fine line and seems to shrug at any mention that he might have “sold out.” Peter Max, a painter whose work became an icon of the 1960s and 70s, saw his work printed on everything from couch pillows to bed sheets. And then there is the now bankrupt Thomas Kinkade, the “Painter of Light”, who took his creative authority so far that he had entire neighborhoods built to look like the houses in his paintings.
Though there can be much glamour and satisfaction in seeing your fine art painting plastered all over everyday objects, there are consequences that some painters are finding a little troubling. The work of wildlife painters, who capture the movement of wild animals in their natural habitat, is in high demand in many forms – from the expensive oil painting sold in a gallery to the ceramic coffee mug sold in a Dick’s Sporting Goods store. This demand is what creates a pathway for infringers to take the images and use them in ways that haven’t been approved by the artist.
In short, a wildlife painter will spend considerable time researching the animal and its natural habitat and often produce sketches before the oil painting is made. Not only does the artist often sell the original painting, but he may also make prints of the painting to sell. A high-resolution image of the painting is also made and then licensed to various companies for production on objects – everything from expensive chiffon dresses to greeting cards to coasters.
As seen in dozens of other art forms, once a copy of the original painting is made, it begins to spread like wildfire. The infringement of these images happens so quickly that the painters are often not aware of the infringement until they see it printed on an object in a store or for sale in a catalogue. And, of course, like so many other artists, a good portion of their creative time and energy is spent flipping through catalogues and browsing stores to see if their images are used in an unauthorized fashion.
Not only is their creative time lost, but significant income for the artists is lost as well. The beauty of being able to make copies of your work and sell or license those copies is the potential of increased income. The income of a painter who only has one painting to sell is limited by the sale of that painting. But, if he can sell or license copies then his income potential grows exponentially. How frustrating it must be to look through a catalogue over morning coffee and count the lost dollars!
For wildlife painters, most of the infringement cases are settled out of court, with a hefty payment going to the artist. And in settlement, there really is little discussion as to whether or not the artist was infringed upon (this is rarely the question), but more about to what extent he was infringed. The settlement often ends with a licensing agreement which really benefits the manufacturer (who likely has a warehouse of goods printed with the infringed image). The artist also benefits because he is now receiving just compensation for the use of his image. But to go through such a roundabout, strenuous process to receive the recognition and financial compensation for what is already rightly his, is not the approach that most artists would like to take.