HAZEL FRIEDMAN reports on ‘wunderkind’ artist Alexandra Nechita, due to show in SA
She has been described as Mozart with a paintbrush and a potential Picasso. Her paintings go for as much as $125 000. And at the rate they’re selling, Alexandra Nechita will be a multi-millionaire before the age of 12.
The most recognised artist in the world today, according to her marketing hype, hasn’t even started menstruating. Nechita, who is the sixth grade, was also chosen to produce six lithographs dedicated to the athletes of the Special Olympics. They were made at the world- famous Mourlot Press in Paris where blue-chip artists like Picasso, Chagall and Miro produced their prints. And her work will make its South African debut from May 7 at Art Now International in Johannesburg.
But behind the hype and packaging lies a tale of exploitation that could turn the already precocious Nechita into a monster or a burnt-out wreck before she turns 13. In an age dominated by KTV and increasingly obsessed with youth in which Lolita look- alikes are the feminine ideal and corporate kids earn more than their parents, there’s no denying it. Children spell C for cash. And for for a growing number of agents and parents eager to take the easy route to fame, talented kids amount to nothing more than marketable commodities aimed straight at the purse-strings, via the heartstrings, of the public.
American child psychologist Anne Hill likens the marketing of talented children to an elevated form of child labour. “Children are extremely impressionable. When they are in the limelight, unless they are wisely guided, they tend to become much more image-and status-conscious than their non-exposed peers. At a time when they should be focusing on innocent pursuits their competitive instincts are being developed, and at a time when money should be the last of their worries, they have become marketable commodities and mega- income earners.”
The Romanian-born Nechita came to America in 1985 at the age of two. She has been painting “professionally” for three years, with her debut exhibition being held in 1994 at a “community art library”. Today, collectors apparently wait up to six months for her work. She still plays with teddy bears but has been known to paint for up to 10 hours a day. Whether or not her work will make a lasting contribution to art history or tell us something about contemporary life from the late 20th century is beside the point. Right now she’s making money. Or at least her dealers, Valenty’s, are raking it in. They take 70% of the pint-sized Picasso’s gross earnings.
After checking her artistic resum, concerned readers might be tempted to call in the Child Protection Unit. It seems that she was practically born a professional artist becoming “absorbed by colouring books at age two”. At age four she started creating “outside the lines, reminiscent of Picasso” – which says something about her maturity and the Cubist master’s immaturity. And a darn sight more about her parents’ motives.
Someone should warn her parents and agents that the basic laws of economics are governed by demand and supply. In the cut- throat world of art, less actually means more. And while art might be ageless, many fading child celebrities will confirm that stardom is not. Nechita needs to be given the opportunity to become an artist before she is a star, making mistakes along the way and taking the risks that are as essential to cognitive and creative evolution as commercial success. But there is small chance of Nechita learning these lessons. Her parents, agents, the media and a star-struck art market will make sure of that.