About Patrick Nagel
by Todd Bingham
Any history of the life and death of an artist is subject to the teller's own view and frame of reference. What follows here is similarly qualified.
If you are interested enough to be reading this, I'll assume you're one who has also read the various forewords to the Nagel book written by Elena Millie, curator of the poster collection at the Library of Congress; his publisher, Karl Bornstein of Mirage Editions; and Hugh Hefner, of Playboy Magazine, as well.
I could hardly expand on what was written by those esteemed Nagel enthusiasts, other than to add a few personal anecdotes and insights.
What was said about the work in the foreword to the book by Ms. Millie, is probably the most salient observation concerning Nagel's artistic legacy. There wasn't another graphic artist in the 1980's to equal him, Nagel was the '80's. He defined the decade.
Because of what transpired historically concerning the work of those graphic artist masters she mentioned -- Toulouse-Lautrec, Bonnard, Cassandre, etc.- - I always predicted there would be a renaissance of enthusiasm about Nagel. Actually, it isn't that much of a prediction to make. History bears it out. The only question has been, "when?" My own thinking was that Nagel's popularity would be revived at around 2020.
It appears I was wrong. It's happening now.
The cycles of nostalgia grow ever smaller. And people,
even those who were never aware of Nagel 
when he lived, are already looking back at Nagel and realizing
him for what he was--a phenom.
But history, especially art history, is extremely specific when bestowing merit on the work of a deceased artist. And one criteria used in identifying the more favored work is the issue of "creation date". Since Rembrandt's 17th Century etchings, graphic art history delineates a difference in value between that work which was created by an artist's own hand, that is to say, "during his life," and that work which was created after his death, "posthumously." The afterlife work is not without value, but it is much less valuable than the work created while the artist lived. Moreover, that "lifetime" work which bears the artist's own signature maintains even greater value.
This makes the contemporary assignment of value to Pat's body of work extremely complicated.
Pat's publisher, Karl Bornstein at Mirage Editions, was savvy enough about art history to have realized early on that Pat's work had the potential to be enduring in the extreme.
Accordingly, he released all of those early, "lifetime" posters in two "states" -- a "state", in graphic art terms, is loosely defined as a given physical condition of a print in an edition, at a given time. Any changes to the print itself, no matter how subtle, no matter how many are then printed, is considered a different or subsequent 'state.' In rare prints, Rembrandt's as an example, some images have multiple states. (for more 'terms' used, go here.) One state might be "unsigned", with Nagel's signature printed onto the graphic, one state would be "signed and numbered" by Nagel in pencil, another might be signed as "artist proofs", another might have some physical change in the esthetics of the print (different color sunglasses, as an example), it went on and on. I'm not sure records were accurately kept by Mirage as to the exact details of every state. We may never know.
PERSONAL REFLECTIONS
I met Pat in 1980 while working for another art publisher whose warehouse was located across the back alley from Mirage's building in Santa Monica, CA. Nagel was already a rising star in the art community, his work already considered a phenomenon. I would see him drive up to the rear of the building in his shiny Peugeot and even while entering in a hurry, he would always have time to stop and chat with the warehouse employees who were packing and shipping his work.
I approached him about appearing in a modest video series I was hoping to do on the arts. He said "Sure, why not?" And he did. (To date, it remains one of the few pieces of video in which he ever appeared). He didn't know me from Adam at the time, but that was Nagel. A truly nice man. I used to think of him as the Cary Grant of the art business.
I was working in a gallery in Century City (Galerie Michael, now located on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills) that was showing his work. In 1981, the gallery did a one-man show for Nagel which was so crowded and jammed with Nagel collectors that we sold out three quarters of the paintings on display on the first night. The next afternoon, we sat him down at a table to sign the poster he had created for the gallery and the line snaked out the door for over three hours. Galerie Michael probably sold more Nagel graphics and original works than any other independent gallery at the time. However, the gallery that was later created in Santa Monica by his own publisher Mirage Editions -- a funky, upstairs gallery in a lowly, industrial neighborhood -- certainly exceeded that, if causing quite a bit of consternation with our gallery, and nearly every other whose dealers felt Mirage was stealing customers from them.
It hardly mattered. There was so much opportunity to sell Nagels, there was such a fire storm of enthusiasm for the work and so many collectors that everyone made money. Especially Mirage, who was controlling pricing on the prints, and who enjoyed the escalating secondary market through their own gallery.
Karl Bornstein, the president and the man-behind-the-man at Mirage, was a master at promotion and celebrity tie-ins to promote Nagel's work. The first notable tie-in came with the Joan Collin's portrait in 1982. Had Nagel lived, Bornstein would have gone on to align him with so many Hollywood celebs, it most certainly would have muddied the over-riding concept of Nagel's work -- that he was a brilliant artist and designer. (In my view, it's almost a good thing that never happened).
Then, in early 1984, February (I think it was), Pat went to a PA (personal appearance) opportunity at a local health club to benefit a local charity. Joined by Wilt Chamberlain, Pat was asked to be photographed taking an aerobics class. Pat didn't like exercise. He smoked and drank a lot of coffee, and was not particularly fit. He left the club, alone, got in his car and his heart stopped. He was found in his car the next morning. (for a look at the document Mirage used to announce Pat's death, go here-- be advised, it's a big file, may take a moment or two to load).
It was literally a nightmare. For everyone. Of course anyone even remotely connected to him was shocked, pained and saddened. But what was worse, the next few weeks and months brought out the absolute most despicable behavior in not a few people associated with Nagel, both dealers and customers. Squabbles and arguments over the work, who would get it, who wouldn't, who had it, who didn't. It was shameful, and I don't mind admitting, I myself got caught up in it.
Prices on the prints and paintings stalled for about a week, then went through the roof. I got a call from a collector the very afternoon of Pat's death, who had had considered purchasing a small painting at the gallery the previous day. When he found we were placing a hold on all pending deals, he threatened me with physical violence if I didn't sell him the painting. There were hundred similar stories. It was not the finest hour.>
In the years after his death, with so much money at stake, (sales of posthumous Nagel graphics sold by Mirage generated $21 million in sales revenues from 1984 to 1990, and another $2.5 million in 1991 and 1992.), Mirage went on to reproduce A LOT of Nagel's work as serigraphic prints. In fairness to Mirage, they took great pains to ensure that the prints were faithful to his original intent, that they were carefully created, high quality serigraphs ( the latter work was printed by Samper Silkscreen in Los Angeles, the earlier "lifetime" posters -- see below-- were printed by esteemed fine art printer, Jeff Wasserman, of Wasserman Silkscreen.
Wasserman had originally headed up the silk screen department of Gemini G.E.L., now located in NY. Wasserman, to this day, is still one of the most highly regarded fine print ateliers in the Art Community.) These serigraphs, known as the CN series, were printed in huge editions, sometimes as many as five or six thousand of an image, and were vehemently collected. The fact that Mirage tried to maintain the same level of quality and esthetic integrity that Pat would have wanted, speaks volumes. But, they were also counterfeited. A few of those titles were fraudulently reproduced in the tens of thousands (CN2 was a prime target for the counterfeiters). In addition, Pat's widow, Jennifer Dumas, authorized the legitimate creation of quite a few editions of Pat's work, in various permutations (Jennifer also very kindly allows me to continue to distribute the Artistry interview I did with Pat in 1983, even though she had been in litigation with Mirage, as well as allowing this site to exist. I owe her many thanks for that courtesy)
