This post is by Luann Udell, regular contributing author for FineArtViews. You should submit an article and share your views as a guest author by clicking here.
If your art career is giving you a hard time, maybe it's trying to tell you something.
My art life and my "normal" life spill over into each other a lot. Things that occur in my "normal life" often provide surprising insights into my artist life. In fact, it happened just this week.
I've been taking riding lessons (horse, not motorcycle!) for awhile now, my reward to myself for getting through an excruciating period in my life.
I'm at the point where, like making art, I simply need to do it more in order to get better. So this month I upped my commitment. I've been riding more than the standard weekly lesson, sometimes two or three or even four times a week.
But instead of getting easier, things got harder.
I've been riding this new horse on the trails. To put it mildly, he didn't agree with anything I propose during our rides together. He was getting so antsy, willful and unruly, I began to fear for my safety on him.
I complained to my instructor, who finally took him out herself. And she couldn't find anything wrong with him.
"So," I asked gingerly, "Does this mean I really suck at riding?"
"No", she replied. "You have a really crappy saddle."
I couldn't believe it. I'd bought the saddle just a few months ago online, under guidance from someone I believed to be an expert on such things. We'd spent a delightful afternoon shopping for saddles on Ebay, drinking wine and talking about the trail rides we'd take. She helped me find a great deal on what she said was a great saddle.
But apparently, it doesn't fit the horse at all. It was pinching the horse in all the wrong places. He was doing his best to let me know it. But I couldn't read his message.
My "expert" friend was mistaken. Or hey, maybe it was the wine. But my saddle is a cheap, poorly designed saddle from a country famous for cheap, poorly designed saddles.
In a way, I was relieved. Better to blame my woes on a bad saddle that didn't cost me much in the first place. (And at least that might also mean my riding doesn't totally suck.) But it got me thinking?.
What "bad saddle" am I using when it comes to getting my art out into the world?
Right now, we are in a transitional period on how art and fine craft are marketed and sold. The old ways?getting into great galleries, getting juried into great shows, advertising, finding a patron or agent--are not sure-fire strategies for success anymore.
Yet it's not clear what we should be doing. And when we don't know what we should do, we often cling to the old ways. At least they're familiar.
"My friend says I should do this show. It's the best in the country! It's expensive, and shows overall aren't doing well. But maybe this one will work for me!"
"I'm going to keep applying to juried exhibits. I've never sold my work from one before. But maybe this time it will be different!"
"I've been doing this prestigious show for years. It used to be my best show! But they seem to be letting a lot of people who aren't up to snuff, and sales are way, way down. But maybe this year will be different?"
"Nothing's working for me right now. My work must be bad!"
"Nothing's working for me right now. It couldn't possibly be my work! It's always sold well before?"
I knew an artist whose goal was to exhibit in juried gallery shows in every 50 states in the U.S. Now, there are good reasons to do a juried gallery show. But when I asked her why on earth she thought that would be a selling point for her work, she realized it was a goal she'd outgrown.
I know a prestigious fine crafts show that now juries in people whose work is just not up to snuff. Their spaces are filled, but the quality of the show suffers. That's a professional credential I can do without.
After rescuing my work from three failed galleries in the past few years, I'm not as eager as I used to be to get into that "perfect gallery".
Sometimes we just have to take a good, hard look, and listen deep to our heart to see what the next step is. And move on from what isn't working anymore.
Maybe our work needs a fresh eye. Maybe it's time to give up that prestigious show. Maybe it's time to explore selling online. Maybe we need to rethink what potential customers really want to know about us and our work (as opposed to what academics and art schools say we should tell them.)
I thought about some of the events and venues I've committed to over the next six months. Some will be worthwhile to keep. Others aren't paying their way, are not furthering my greatest vision for my art, and take up too much time to boot. I want to clear out some clutter in my life, both literal and figurative. I want to look carefully at all the goals I've assumed would move me forward, that are actually holding me back.
I can let go of some of these things I used to think would mean I'd "made it", and articulate ways my art could "work" more powerfully for me. Get rid of the strategies, venues and goals that don't work for me anymore, and find a better "fit". Maybe instead of just getting my work into a great gallery, it could actually serve a great cause.
I've learned my lesson?don't let a bad saddle keep you from having a good ride on a great horse.