I Prefer The Pagans, 2001, oil on panel, 72 x 122 inches

The lion's jaw of unearned acclaim has foiled far finer souls than my dear friend David Schoffman. His well-known triptych I Prefer The Pagans was recently exhibited at Chichikov West as part of a group exhibition spuriously aligned around the theme of "Belief".

In tandem with the exhibition, a panel discussion, moderated by art historian Manon Ovidier took place at the gallery. Together with Schoffman the panel included artists Dahlia Danton, Felix Tillage and Vanessa Trefortunat. Each were pressed by a mosaic of knotty questions and though they handled themselves with professional aplomb, no one composed any memorable arias.

Until the very end ....

Spines were collectively tensed when the scraping sound of a young man's voice claimed the attention of the restless audience. "Mr. Schoffman," he began, "why do all your pictures seem so featherless? Why do they consistently promise prophecy or revelation but deliver only the dazzling effects of painterly accomplishment? Is it an intellectual idleness, a poverty of concept or merely the wages of your many years of groundless esteem and unjustified renown?"

Tillage, Trefortunat, Danton and even Ovidier could scarcely conceal their purgative snickers.

THE DUSTING OF EARLY ACCLAIM

While still in the wilderness of his awkward apprenticeship David Schoffman hatched an unorthodox plan. He was living in a tiny tenement on New York's lower east side and was scraping together a graceless living delivering wedding cakes for Manhattan's famous Patisserie de Cheval.

On a fateful spring morning, David was balancing a traditional two-tier white chocolate confection on the back of his bicycle on his way to Gramercy Park. White lillies and Singapore orchids fluttered gently in the breeze as he carefully wove his way around the rush hour traffic. The idea hit him like the burnt fury of an augurous premonition.

Wedding cake ornaments are either nauseatingly kitschy or sentimentally floral with little in between. Why not design more memorable baubles using the skills he so expensively acquired in art school?

That's how Undecked Decorations started. "Classically nude cake toppers tastefully rendered with unbridled finesse", was how he put it in his brochure. It was an instant success and was even the subject of a cover story in City Citizen magazine.

He eventually sold the business in order to devote all his time to painting but not before branching out into hood ornaments, sport trophies and porcelain figurines and changing the company's name to Idolatries Plus.