Ben Dunne finds the prevailing gallery system exploitative and elitist, but a quick look around his new Nora Dunne Gallery shows why his retail approach to art is unlikely to be a success, reports Aidan Dunne

FOR SEVERAL YEARS in pre-Celtic Tiger Ireland, there used to be a no-frills fine art shop on South William Street. Work hung on the walls and was stacked against them, protected by cellophane wrapping. Pieces were available framed or unframed.

The no-frills approach followed a retail model, with a modest mark-up rather than the customary gallery commission of half the given price. Some of the work had a cursory quality about it, but there was a lot that was good, and pretty much all of it was competent. But, in time, the art shop disappeared. It's possible that its main problem was timing.

Now, in post-Celtic Tiger Ireland, businessman Ben Dunne has tried to do something similar, opening a gallery in the grounds of the Carlisle Health and Fitness Club, which he owns, in Kimmage. Again, timing is an issue. Dunne originally lodged planning permission for the gallery in April 2007, when the economic outlook was rather rosier than it is now. The Nora Dunne Gallery occupies what was originally a cricket pavilion, remodelled by McDonnell Dixon architects. The interior is large and functional, but characterless, much more like a bland office space than a gallery per se. Hundreds of paintings, photographs and prints line the walls.

Dunne's arrival in fine art retail was bullishly announced early in 2007. He described art galleries as elitist closed shops and said art was too expensive, partly because of the 50 per cent commission charged. His gallery would take a maximum of 25 per cent and put art within reach of the people. Now, aspiring exhibitors send some slides and if curator Karen Harper gives them the nod, they're in. Spaces are also available for hire, and art classes are mooted.

Dunne's brave rhetoric raised the prospect of well-established artists abandoning their exploitative galleries and joining the retail revolution. But even a cursory glance around the Nora Dunne Gallery will quickly and resoundingly put to rest the notion that anything like that has happened. The idea that it might ever happen is largely based on a common misapprehension about the relationship between artists and their galleries. Of course, no artist likes paying half the market value of their work to their gallery, but if the process is working as it should, with the gallery actively representing and promoting the artist, bringing in buyers, seeking opportunities and making connections, the commission is more than earned.

Dunne has implied that galleries might put pressure on artists not to show with him, but if artists choose not to do so, you can bet they have their own interests in mind. Applying his experience of retailing, he has already slashed the prices of many of the hundreds of paintings on view in his gallery, by as much as 50 per cent, within weeks of opening. These works may well be owned by him, as he reportedly bought more than 200 works as stock. But such rapid discounting makes you wonder if they were worth what he was asking originally anyway. There's another issue as well: any professional artist would have to be seriously worried about their prices being halved at a stroke.

It's noticeable that the Nora Dunne Gallery has pulled back considerably from Dunne's initial criticism of the art world. Harper has said that its target audience is not to be found among existing art collectors - that is, people who already buy from mainstream commercial galleries - but among the "general public". Yet, if gauged against the populist sector of the fine art market, against work to be found in, say, the Bad Art Gallery (which is generally not bad at all of its kind), the Nora Dunne has a long way to go and a steep learning curve in prospect.

THE BULK OF the work on view in the gallery is of an average hobbyist standard. When, unusually, you come upon something outside of that definition, such as the pieces by Elke Thonnes, they leap out at you. Not because they are particularly remarkable, but because there's a level of sameness to so much else, and Thonnes clearly has ability and a real feeling for her materials. She was one of those involved with the strikingly named Expose Yourself Gallery, Harper's previous venture in Dún Laoghaire.

As for most of the rest, it's the type of painting you find in numerous local art exhibitions and galleries throughout the country.

It is for the most part formulaic, technically very uneven and essentially decorative in intent. Which it not to say that it isn't made with great passion and sincerity. While the prices in the gallery vary, most may seem modest compared to those fetched by works of established artists in mainstream galleries, but you get what you pay for. Simply put, in terms of the quality of what is on offer, the work does not represent great value for money. If on a purely subjective level, a buyer likes a piece, acquires it and gains pleasure from seeing it on the wall at home, fair enough. But the wider market will not reflect that subjective preference.

As it stands, the Nora Dunne Gallery doesn't symbolise the overhaul of the commercial gallery system. Unless it undergoes a major change of direction it's more accurate to say that it might in time occupy a populist niche within the system. And it's worth pointing out that Dunne's claim that the mainstream galleries form a closed shop does not stand up to scrutiny. The mainstream art market is open and competitive, and you can find affordable work without too much effort.

For example, call into the Graphic Studio or the Original Print galleries, both in Temple Bar, and you will be spoiled for choice.