Chris Crake of the Crake Gallery Johannesburg
chats with Michael Coulson

Think of long-established Jo’burg galleries, and you think of the Goodman and Everard Read. But there’s a third that’s survived well into its fourth decade, and unlike the other two is still run by its founder: the Crake Gallery in Norwood, run by the eponymous Chris Crake.
Crake has in fact been involved in the art world for more than 40 years. Late in 1968, he was sitting in the legendary Chesa coffee bar in the Rand Central building when he noticed an old lady putting up a Sit Vac sign in a shop window opposite. On inquiry, he was sent up to the old lady’s premises on the first floor.
The premises were Gallery 101; the old lady, the legendary Madame Haenggi. Despite his waist-length hair and generally hippyish appearance, she took him on. And he’s stayed in the business ever since.
Not that it was an entirely random choice of career. Art was the only subject he enjoyed at school, and had economics permitted he might even have become an artist. But the need to put bread on the table (he became a father in 1970) precluded that.
Crake says he learnt more from Madame Haenggi than from anyone, and it was a wrench to leave when he was approached to take over the Madden Gallery in Sandton, whose backers included businessman Wilfred Robin and London-based expat Solly Rissen, whose sister Jean Madden ran the Madden Gallery in London.
Crake extended Madden’s range from international to SA art, and tried to promote local artists like Keith Alexander, Vic Guhrs, Claude Jammet and others abroad. Looking back, he says this was a good idea, but ahead of its time.
After some years it was time to take the next step. In 1979 he took the plunge (“Everybody said I was mad to open an art gallery, with the townships going up in flames”) and, with just R60 in the bank, opened up on his own in Grant Avenue, directly opposite his present site, which he moved to 10 years later. He takes pride in the fact that the gallery has always been self-financing: he’s never borrowed money or had a backer.
For years he staged solo exhibitions every two or three weeks year-round, showcasing names like Jean Doyle, Michael Costello, Robin Kearney, Ulrich Schwanecke, John Brett Cohen, Fred Schimmel, Norman Eaglestone, Fleur Ferri, Donna White, Simon Parkin, Robert Haber and Leon Sorianos. Some couldn’t stand the pace, some moved on to (possibly) greater things, but others have remained loyal.
These days, he’s slackened his own pace, cutting back the hectic schedule to a group anniversary show in the first half of the year and half a dozen or so solo shows in the second half, by regular members of his stable: Peter Bonney, Russian-born Dimitri Nikashin, Daan Vermeulen, Roelof Rossouw, Geoff Horne and others.
Basically, while they have widely differing styles, all are realistic landscape painters, though he also carries sculptures by the likes of Laurence Chait. This is no accident, either; even in his schooldays he admired Norman Rockwell and Andrew Wyeth, pictures that tell stories. “Any picture you can go travelling in is a good work.”
Though this has become his unique selling proposition, it was not always thus. He remembers bringing the first David Hockney graphics to SA, and selling them for a few hundred rand.
And in 1980 he was arrested for selling pornography, for an exhibition of erotica inspired by the Kama Sutra, by Tatu Penrith. Today he admits that this was a publicity stunt, when a friend put on the guise of an old lady and complained to the police. Fortunately, he wasn’t charged, and now says “It was the best publicity we ever had.”
But, he says, the developing focus on realism reflects both his own preference, and that of his clientele, corporate and individual, who are “basically conservative” in their tastes. He also says he’s not into “investment art”.
“People buy from me for love and life. In 33 years, I don’t think I’ve had 20 pictures come back for resale. You have a different responsibility to people who spend R400 000 on a painting than when they pay R40 000. I want my artists to be accessible and good value.”


So his artists must have staying power, and though he tries to introduce a couple of new names in his annual group shows, he concedes that he’s reached a stage of life where he won’t be around for ever, so he hasn’t much time to build up new names – not easy in current conditions, in any event.
“You have to do a lot of work behind the scenes to make a successful solo show. You have to call round all your regular clients and promote the work. And that’s hard, if they’ve never heard of the artist. So those who’ve been with me for 25 years are naturally in the front seats.”
Persistence and hard work are the keys to the success and longevity of the Crake Gallery. It’s a lesson the hopefuls who think all you have to do is put work on the wall and smile as the buyers pour in, so many of whom have flickered – perhaps even flourished, briefly -- across the gallery scene since Crake set out on his career would do well to ponder.