
- Man… this cat’s a rude mofo!
Ok, so… a guy walks into a gallery during a particularly busy opening night.
He goes straight to the front desk, doesn’t introduce himself, and lets out a long… I mean uncomfortably long sigh. If you could see this guy’s face, you’d assume he’s just lost his beloved wife and five children to a horrible spelunking accident.
Now that I’ve set the scene…
MAN
Em… I’m thinking I’ll do a show here. How does it work?
ME
Dooo… you want to submit work, or do you want to rent the gallery for an event?
MAN
[ Lets out another disturbingly long sigh ]
I’d rather just have a show here and not pay for renting.
ME
[ Trying to be diplomatic ]
Well, the artists who show here have to submit their work first and be selected by a curator or the gallery director; we need a resume, bio and some images…
MAN
*Silence*
COORDINATOR
If you were looking to rent, what dates were you interested in?
MAN
Next artwalk.
COORDINATOR
We’re usually booked on Art Walk nights with our own projects; most galleries have their big openings then. But we can rent to you when we don’t have an event going on?
MAN
How much is it?
[ Coordinator gives more information, etc. ]
MAN
[ Pauses, mumbles a barely perceptible line about the project he's thinking of 'gracing' our space with. Then, as he exits... ]
We’ll see. We’ll see.
[ A wall of 'tude hits us in the face on his way out ]
– End scene.
* * *
OK. Here’s the deal:
I’ll try not to be an elitist jerkface if you’ll at least make a small effort (not even a big one) of pretending that you live in a society – and let me make it abundantly clear – this guy was fully in charge of his abilities; he just couldn’t be bothered.
Rule #1: INTRODUCE YOURSELF!!!
NOBODY is going to do business with a guy who walks in and doesn’t even extend his hand in greeting, let alone tell you anything about himself because he’s too busy giving everybody the (figurative) finger. Were you raised by wolves?
Don’t assume the person sitting behind the desk is just a secretary; that chick you’re being extremely condescending to right now may be the gallery owner, curator/guest curator, director, coordinator, assistant OR intern – you don’t know. Unless you’re already a star and nobody can touch you, logic dictates that acting like a D-bag will actually work against you. It’s like giving a waiter a hard time before your food arrives; are you sure you wanna eat that? Even the lowest person on the totem pole has the ability to “misplace” your work (or proposal).
- Aw… nuts! I guess it fell to the bottom of the pile and into the shredder…
So be pleasant, shake hands, wear deodorant… all that good stuff your mother should have taught you. Otherwise, your work may never make it’s way into the decision-makers’ hands. It’s not about the art machine being against you, ‘man’; it’s about you showing respect for yourself and the people whose gallery you’re stinking up with your ridiculously entitled vibes.
Rule #2: SALES PITCH!!!
“Hi. I’m so and so. I’m a local artist (or I have a project doing X with local artists) and I would love to pitch you guys and see if there might be a possibility of showing here. How do I go about doing that?”
Instead of getting everyone all twisted up and uncomfortable at the thought of doing business with you, do something that is both positive and proactive: Have a brief ‘elevator speech’. Make it genuine and personal, and if they want to hear your pitch or read your proposal, give them more. If they don’t, be courteous and try again later, or try another gallery. It might just not be the right time. It doesn’t mean they think you suck, or that you should quit and apply for a job at the DMV, or that you are now somehow worth less as a human. You hate The Man - I get it – but art is a business and being in denial about it will only prolong your exclusion from the very world you’re trying so desperately to belong to.
Side note: 1) Most galleries are already overwhelmed with submissions and are uncomfortable with walk-ins coming in to show their work out of the blue. So check their website first (or call) to learn about their submission requirements. 2) Most artists don’t consider that there are actually costs involved in reviewing submissions, mostly involving staff hours. Because of that, there may be submission fees involved. Some galleries are nonprofits and have to recoup costs wherever they can, others feel they get more serious applicants by charging a portfolio review fee. This is becoming pretty standard, so don’t be surprised or offended; just decide if it’s worth it to you and how you’ll feel if you get rejected. Can you be OK with it, or will it shatter your ego as well as your pocketbook? 3) Pick your galleries: This kinda goes without saying but if you’re a painter, don’t submit your art to a place that specializes in digital art and new media. Research your ‘targets’.
Do yourself a favor; get your resume together, collect 10-20 good .jpg images of your work, include a well-written bio and artist statement, and submit through the proper channels indicated on the gallery’s website.
Speaking of websites, if you’re serious about your career, you need to get on that! There are no excuses anymore. Blogs are free, dude! If you can’t afford anything fancier, a blog with images of your work is more than sufficient.
I know, I know. It’s uncool to have your sh*t together, but some other artist out there does and they’ll gladly step up to the plate if you won’t.
Rule #3: COMMON SENSE!!! (A.K.A. Extremely Rare Sense)
You might want to ponder this for at least five minutes before walking through that door: “What’s in it for them?”
Unless you’re hand-picked for a show, why would a gallery (profit or nonprofit) in a high-rent area give you space for free, unless you approach them with a kick-ass proposal? Why would they show your work without even having checked into your skill, talent, or experience?
There is zero benefit for a gallery with high rent costs and a slew of operating expenses to just give space away; there has to be a fair exchange which benefits both parties. In this case, there’s only a few possibilities:
a) They love your work; it fits their brand or culture and they think they can sell it and make a profit. Or they think your work will draw people in and increase their exposure.
b) You have a proposal that blows them away; they see the potential and they want to benefit from it. Or, your organization and theirs has something in common, and there is substantial benefit to creating a partnership to promote both your causes/mandates to twice as many people (yours & theirs).
c) You have something they want or need, and they’re willing to trade you for it.
d) You’re paying to rent the space and they feel confident because you’ve told them exactly what your event entails; they’re also fairly certain your homies aren’t going to trash the place, plus you have insurance and they have your security deposit.
Nobody is going to magically give you space or offer you a solo show based on your own high opinion of yourself.
As weirded out as I was, I actually felt bad for the guy because between the mumbles and the ‘tude Tsunami, his idea sounded like it might have potential. Doesn’t change the fact that you’d have to see a proposal and feel confident about the work and the artist before even considering it.
As an artist myself, I understand how frustrating it can be. You’re sitting there thinking, “If I can just get my work out there, everyone’s gonna see!” But everyone deals with this at some point in adulthood: No experience = no job. No job = no experience.
How do you get around that?
If you are an artist, you have to realize that half your job is growing your skills and making art (patience, practice, consistency), half is marketing (common sense). I’m not talking about hiring a PR firm; I’m talking about basic stuff, presentation, how you carry yourself, how you speak to people, having a decent website with clear images and descriptions of your work, having business cards… It’s not rocket science. Unfortunately, a lot of artists buy into the illusion that their creativity would suffer if the Business Hat happened to even just… graze their head for a second.
I go back and forth from working behind the scenes of an exhibition to submitting my work, having it reviewed, criticized, dissected, then either rejected or accepted and shown. You may think it’s frustrating being an artist, but it’s equally frustrating meeting other artists who have the potential to turn into something exciting… except they’re too lazy to even ask one question about how things work. And that, my friends, is a career killer.
In the hopes that this has been somewhat helpful, moral of the story is… don’t do what MAN did.
Nat George is a Los Angeles-based visual artist working in paint, video and new media. Adopted angeleno + art director + art junkie + independent curator.