TORONTO -- Artists in Toronto have been receiving some tantalizing e-mails lately -- and not the kind involving frolicsome secretaries with a fondness for mud baths.

Bang!, a television program currently in production in the city, is looking for art to hang on its sets -- hardly surprising given that, according to an e-mail solicitation sent out to hundreds of artists and artist groups, the show is a fictional drama depicting a group of artists sharing "an old industrial complex renovated by a large corporation, who give the artists cheap living space but force them to peddle their wares as part of their tourist attraction."

Imagine the pitch to Omni 1, the network that is producing and will air Bang! in the fall: It's Survivor meets Lust for Life, but with sexy people! According to the show's art department co-ordinator Martha Sparrow, her first e-mail call garnered 30 to 40 responses, and the show has already signed eight artists to participate. Apparently, none of them mind not being paid.

Although Bang! is a drama about the difficulties of living off one's art, the producers see no reason to actually pay real artists for their work. The chance to reach a large audience, they argue, is payment enough. Sparrow says that Bang! offers "each artist a credit at the tail of the show and can offer space on the show's website" -- but no cash. Nor do the artists have any say in how their work is presented. But, Sparrow says, "they are welcome to visit the set."

The irony of a television show about artists not paying for art is not altogether lost on Sparrow. "I guess it's like a product placement from a company, which we've also gotten. But I've been thinking about how we're doing this a lot, and I'd love to pay rental fees [typically one half of the retail cost of a work], or buy works outright, but we don't have the budget. I mean, I'm not trying to get something for nothing. I don't see this as exploiting artists if they want to do it."

Sparrow, who has worked on a number of low-budget productions, points out that many independent films are made via an informal borrowing system. But when asked if Bang! is also getting donated catering, props or car services, Sparrow pauses, then says "no, but, well, Bang!'s not really a show about struggling artists per se . . . it's not the whole focus of the show, so we're not really . . . , well, I just figured maybe there are some emerging or student artists out there who want the exposure."

Senior artists who've lent their work to film productions in the past are less forgiving. A prominent Toronto painter, who spoke anonymously, let out an atypical stream of expletives when I told him about the Bang! no-payment policy.

"If the show does even moderately well, they'll be able to sell it all over the world. And you don't shoot an entire TV series without real money. They're just trying to con artists with the old 'exposure' argument."

The painter, who has loaned work in the past to film productions, describes one horror story after another.

"Production companies are used to working with art shop people, people trained to make props fast and cheap -- so they treat an artist's work the same way, having no idea how much work goes into a piece of art, or its value. You'd think the art world and the film world would have a lot in common, but the art world is foreign to them. When I visited the set of the last film I loaned to, I found myself forced to speak to highly paid production people like they were three year olds: Please, please don't light my work with a swinging fluorescent tube! And the way the work was filmed was horrible -- and this was a film about a painter! And all the characters did throughout the film was talk about how great the paintings were, paintings the audience could hardly see! Nobody knew how to light the work, or hang the work, or frame the work or . . . it was exasperating."

And, the painter points out, his work was part of a well-funded feature film, not a fly-by-night, straight-to-video production.

"I stayed on top of the process the whole time, and made them write up a contract, which baffled them completely."

Was the exposure good for his work? "In fairness, I did get a few responses, but not enough to justify the headache -- and I am so weary of the 'good exposure' routine that film companies trot out to artists. Flashing a piece of art for three seconds on a TV show is not exactly high-profile exposure; that's a fantasy they sell to inexperienced artists. Nobody buys art that way. And listen -- any promises they make, such as sending you a videotape of the film or documentation, forget it. As soon as the set closes all those people disappear."

Offering a young artist (or any artist) the potential worldwide exposure a film or TV show can bring is tantalizing, to say the least -- artists, after all, are nothing without attention. In a random poll of artists I conducted, half would agree to Bang!'s terms and half would not -- their biggest concerns being how the work was presented and protecting it from damage. (Bang! promises that "all work will be vigilantly protected by our on-set crew, and will also be covered under the production's insurance.")

Artist Rob Croxford was happy to hand his work over to Bang! A 32-year-old painter who has worked in television and for major theatre festivals, Croxford is not a naive young artist dazzled by the chance to appear on TV. But when Croxford decided to leave theatrical scenic painting for art painting, he realized he needed to find innovative ways to get attention.

"It did occur to me that I wasn't being paid, and I'm used to being paid for my theatrical work -- but on the other hand, it's hard to break into the art world, to crack the cliques. Bang! is not only a way to pad out my exhibition résumé, but also to get some instant exposure.

Having worked in film and television from the production end, I don't have any glamorous ideas about what the show can do for me -- and I've seen lots of bad art on television. TV could use the help."

Twentysomething painter Esther Sanchez, another Bang! donor, agrees. "I don't have a dealer. Like, I've been showing in restaurants and, like, clubs for a long time without getting paid. I already take that risk, because, you know, you reach people. One time I sent work to this production company that places art with big U.S. TV shows, and I had to pay them! I mean, it would be cool if Bang! paid, but, you know, either way I'm just, like, everybody do what you want, you know?"

Such casual attitudes don't surprise Kristian Clarke, co-director of CARFAC Ontario (Canadian Artists Representation/le front des artistes canadiens).

"It's always the inexperienced ones who get burned, needlessly. They think they are being given a great opportunity and that these things just happen by accident, but film production is an industry and there is a system in place for these transactions. We have a fee schedule that includes broadcast rates that all artists can refer to. But, too often, the promise of reaching a big audience draws them in. . . .

"Just recently, I worked with an artist who was told by a production company that they didn't need to write up a contract for her because she wasn't famous enough -- meaning, they'd just get someone more in need if she asked too many questions. It happens all the time, and not just with production companies -- magazines are really bad at wanting art for free, too.

"These companies tell themselves, and the artists, that they are doing the artist a favour -- but what they are really doing is profiting off somebody else's work."

So what does CARFAC advise?

"Get a contract. Of course, the minute you ask for one, they'll probably just find somebody else who will hand their work over for nothing."