How To Get Your Work Into A Gallery Part Two

              In part one I discussed how I was able to get a gallery to exhibit my work. There are a lot of books out there that will give you the formula for how to go about doing this.  These books sell very well, I've bought a few of them myself. The problem is that the methods they give don't really work. If there's one rule in life that always seems to hold true it's that the squeaky wheel always gets the grease. Not the cleanest wheel, or best made wheel, or most unique wheel, THE SQUEAKIEST! So you have to throw away the rule book and get your stuff seen by any means possible. One key ingredient that the books don't mention is chutzpah, it's an old Yiddish word for having a lot of nerve. I'm sure I would be a lot further along in my career if I had more of this essential ingredient. Of course it goes without saying that you have to believe that you are doing good work that is worth being seen and that's saleable. In the first mailing that I sent out I mentioned to the gallery owners that if they put my work on their walls that it wouldn't be there for very long, the stuff would be flying out the door. That got their attention. That's a little bit of chutzpah, I certainly could of been a bit bolder and told them that in person, but I chickened out!
            Anytime I hear or read a gallery interview they always say that the biggest no-no is to walk in with your work unannounced. Yet I have read on more than a few occasions of artists walking in and doing just that, and the gallery taking them on. The bottom line is that if your work blows them away they are not going to reject you just because you barged in! They are looking for the next big moneymaker! Sure they don't want it to become a common practice, but it has occasionally happened and worked out for the artist. I have practiced a few sneaky introductions myself. One year I took a letter box at a post office in Soho so that the galleries would think I was a New York City artist. It almost worked. I can remember retrieving my mail and opening a letter from the OK Harris Gallery that started with the line "Congratulations", I almost passed out. But then it went on to say that my work was really first rate and deserving of a gallery, just not his. He went on to list galleries that he thought might like my work but said that he didn't want me to say that he recommended me. "Say what?" Wahh-wahh! Being the naïve do-gooder kid that I was, I didn't use his name and I got nowhere fast. In hindsight I probably should have copied that letter and included it with every packet that I sent. Why not, I worked hard and deserved it. Another method that I tried was in the days of sending slide sheets. Instead of sending slide sheets, I sent a slide sheet folder filled with miniature hand painted versions of twenty of my paintings which I had encased in a slide negative cardboard holder so that at first glance it looked like a sheet of slides. The gallery owner wrote me back a very encouraging letter, I could tell he was impressed, but he didn't commit. Always a brides maid never a bride. I supposed if I didn't have a life that I could have nurtured that relationship like one of those potato plants in middle school science, hoping that it would one day turn into a beautiful flower. Instead, I moved on, and didn't quit. You have to be in this for the long game, and you have to have a thick skin! I have enough rejection letters to insulate my house. I'm a bit like that psychotic rabbit boiler played by Glenn Close " I will not be ignored".
         Most of these so called experts also recommend that you have a signature style or theme. Yes, there are artists who paint variations on the same idea over and over again, and do very well for themselves. That could possibly work, but it just sounds so boring!! I had one gallery that was interested in my work tell me that they really loved my painting of a jawbone placed on a book, and could I possibly paint twenty more just like it. Yeah, maybe if I was suicidal and wanted to spend the next year or so contemplating the folly of human existence. Here's the bottom line; do your thing, whatever that is, don't try to figure out what the "next big thing" is. There's an audience and a market out there for good, honest work, finding them is the hard part, but it's also part of the game. Whenever I run a marathon or long race people always ask me "How was it?". I always shrug my shoulders and say "eh", because to me the training leading up to it was the best part, the race itself was kind of anti-climactic. So stop kvetching, get your work out there and enjoy the "hunt".

"Admiration" Process and Progress Shots

                Recently I read an article by an artist who was wondering if it's a mistake for artists to post work in progress shots of their artwork. His feeling was that it was somehow taking away some of the mystery of the work and possibly devaluing it by too much exposure. I'm not necessarily the biggest fan of the social media age, but one of the best things to come of all of this, is the glimpse into the studios and working habits of artists that I admire but will never get a chance to meet. I was able to introduce my work and get accepted into a new gallery, and this came about entirely through social media. So here's a look into the creation of one of my latest, "Admiration", oil on panel, 16" x 20".
               My initial concept for this painting was to show how our vision and perceptions of the world around us has been filtered through technology and how eventually we have to bring it back to looking at nature if we want to remove the scales from our eyes. How many times will a realist painter have to hear the compliment that it looks just like a photograph, when what they should be hearing is that it looks perfectly natural! I wanted to paint this one using daylight to add another "natural" element to my concept. Once I had set up the vase of flowers with the wooden bowl, I began to look for other circular forms and shapes to add to the composition. I had recently been talking with some students about the apocryphal story of how Giotto submitted a drawing of a circle to the Pope when he asked for a sample of his work, and how Rembrandt included two circles in the background of his self portrait, as if to say "I'm twice as good as Giotto". Once I added the wooden pulley, and silver bowl, the painting really began to take on a mind of it's own (yes sometimes that really does happen, it's not just artist b.s.) I start my making a careful drawing on paper, sized to the canvas, which I transfer using conte crayon on the back of the drawing. I used to save every drawing that I made, thinking I would need them for the eventual retrospective I was going to have, but my studio is small and I just can't store them, so now I use the originals and don't have to deal with the idiots at the copy center. Here's a shot of the transfer with a wipeout using thinned down raw umber. My wipeouts are kept fairly simple; two values. My theory is that if the painting doesn't grab me with a two value structure, it's not going to grab me with twenty.

                My next step is to make a color wash. Most artists thin their paint way down so that it appears almost like a watercolor. I put my paint on thin, but more opaque than a watercolor. I try to get it as much "like" in the color wash pass as I can, so that I can get it even more "like" in the finishing pass. I got this idea from reading Solomon J. Solomon and a workshop I took with Douglas Flynt. I used to make color studies for each painting, and I probably still should, but I've got a lot of ideas in my head, and I'm no "spring chicken" if you get my drift. I paint the color wash very carefully moving from form to form, usually starting with the center of interest and fanning out form there. Here's a shot of the color wash in progress.

          Once the color wash is dry it's time for deja-vu all over again (thanks Yogi Berra). I repaint every part of the painting exactly as I did it the first time, except now I'm noticing some things I didn't pick up on before, and I'm thickening up the lights a bit. My goal is to stay with each form, in a Zen like manner, until I'm completely satisfied, working wet into wet. I don't leave myself a back door option of fixing it later. I will occasionally repaint an area, but I never find it to be as satisfying as getting it right the first time. It loses some of the freshness and snappy brush work! I've always worked this way, even before studying at an atelier, and just assumed I was doing it wrong. Now I  don't care, this is how I paint, take it or leave it. Below is a shot of the final painting. This is one of those rare instances where the painting comes close to my initial concept. Let's face it, no painting is ever going to be as vivid as that initial bolt of lightning when an idea just pops into your head and you see it clear as day for one fleeting second. I guess that's the windmill that keeps me coming back.

The Hard Way

      Recently, I've been working on a series of paintings where I complete two paintings, one an 8" x 10", and the other, a 16" x 20", based on the same setup, simultaneously. The first couple that I did, my process was to make a drawing for the 8x10 and then bring it to FedEx to have it enlarged. It was a little tricky at first, but they figured out how to do it. The last painting that I just completed, "Melon Boat", their machine was down, When it's "go time" I can't wait, so I went home and gridded the drawing, and enlarged it the old fashioned way. It's obviously a lot more work and time, and time is money, so for my latest one (see above), I decided to give FedEx another try. I went with my 8x10 drawing, and explained that I would like one copy to be the same exact size, and one copy to be twice as big, 16"x20". Now I'm not a techno, but this doesn't seem to me to be overly complicated. I always bring a tape measure with me to make sure I don't leave with a wrong size image. The manager first made the one to one copy, it was a half inch smaller. Then she attempted the enlargement. It was an inch smaller, and all of the lines were scrambled and pixelated. She then proceeded to lecture me on why it was my fault for asking for something that was impossible, even though I explained to her that I'd had it done there before.
   I didn't get into an argument with her, I kept my cool, and drove back home empty handed. I try to be aware sometimes when the universe is trying to teach me an important lesson. I gridded up my drawing and proceeded to enlarge it the hard way, one square at a time. What I did was to setup two easels side by side, both facing the still life, and I made the block-in from the drawing, but I did the finished line work on the larger piece from direct observation of the setup. What I noticed was that as I made the enlarged drawing, I was picking up on some subtleties that had eluded me in the smaller piece, and actually might have been distracting in the smaller work. My original idea for doing these enlargements was to highlight some of the things that I do on the smaller pieces, and also to be able to push my brushwork a bit more. After doing the large drawing I transferred it to a canvas by rubbing the back with conte crayon, and tracing over the lines. I then did a very basic wipe out by covering the canvas with thinned down raw umber, and pulled out the lights with a paper towel. Some artists do a very developed and modeled wipe out, my philosophy is that if it doesn't look good with two simple value separations, it's not going to look good with five. My next step will be to add a thinned down color wash using Liquin, where I will paint each form up to as much of a finish as I can achieve with thinned down paint. Check out Doug Flynt's video (highly recommended) at www.douglasflynt.com for a good demonstration of this process. So Thanks FedEx for screwing up, you gave me the kick in the behind that I was needing!

The Other Side of the Fence

           Recently, I was asked to be the sole juror for a local art club's annual members competition. I somewhat reluctantly accepted because I  have had a somewhat contentious history with thirty years of submitting work to juried shows, and I didn't want anyone to be having those same evil thoughts about me! I do have some experience. I've been on the jurying committee of a well known art organization for some time, and I've done a few smaller shows on my own. The good thing about this show was that I could judge from actual work. The awards were to be given out immediately following my jurying so it was a little bit stressful, as all of the artists were there, and I was expected to explain my selections and also to give out some critiques if asked. The work was all pretty good which made choosing the better pieces even more complicated.
        The art club had a form that they wanted me to fill out for the award winners that asked me to expand on things like the use of the elements and principles of art, technique, and expression. After emphasizing the elements and principles of art to high school students for over thirty years I can't tell you how many times I was pleasantly surprised when students would come up with their own solutions. I've come to realize that there are things that go into the creation of a successful work of art besides the standard "rules". I explained to the club members that to my way of thinking all art is essentially abstract and good underlying design structure is important no matter what your means of expression is. What makes a good design is somewhat debatable I guess but it seems to be something that's obvious even to "untrained" eyes. I have occasionally had something pointed out to me as a problem in my painting by a casual stranger, and son of a gun, most of the time they're right. (I really hate that!)
      One of the judging categories was "expression" and I have to say that I find that to be the least important element. In my undergraduate and graduate studies in painting expression was the God before which we all knelt. As I got older and began to re-train myself, I stopped worrying about whether or not I was expressing myself and just tried to make good paintings. I remember bringing some paintings to a gallery owner at the recommendation of one of my instructors. The owner asked me how I would describe my "style". I told her that I was working very hard not to have one. I guess she thought I was a little crazy but eventually she got the idea. More important than "expression" is harmony. Does the work hold together? We've all had those pieces where we love one little section of passage in a work at the expense of the other 70% of surface area. Each art work is a specific entity with it's own rules and logic. What worked in your last painting won't necessarily work in this one, you have to problem solve on a case by case basis. That's one of the things that I love about the process, it never gets boring. It can also make critiquing work somewhat problematic. I told the artists in the club that rather than me pointing out what I think might be "wrong" in their painting or drawing, it would be better if they asked me for advice on how to problem solve something that was troubling them. As I explained, what might be wrong in this work, could be right in the next.
     At the end of the evening we got into a discussion about submitting work digitally to competitions. The biggest problem with digital submissions is that you are using one art form, photography, to stand in for another art form, painting, drawing, sculpture, etc; All of the things that work well in photographs, value contrasts, flattening, perspective exaggerations, can be murder on an image of a painting. As someone who has been judging work digitally, I am often amazed  at the difference between the image and the real thing. One thing that will come through, even in a digital image, is a strong design (going back to my first point). I explained that if you're going to submit work to online competitions sometimes you have to go with the work that looks the best digitally, not necessarily what you see as the best in your studio. I use to pay photographers to photograph my work, but I was never completely satisfied with the results. They were seeing things from the photographers point of view. Once I learned to take my own photos I was able to limit the shortcomings from actual image to digital version as much as I could. The internet has opened up a whole new world for artists, but it's far from perfect. I often think of the Impressionists and their dealings with the official salon juries and wonder what they would have made of today's world of electronic jurying. Perhaps they would have revolted, maybe we should too.

"Behind the Scenes" oil on panel

More "Charity"

   I 've spent quite a bit of time working on this drawing. The painting is 16 x 20 and the composition is pretty complicated. I find that the more time I spend on the drawing the less I have to fudge around while I'm painting. Some artists prefer to find the edges as they paint and I totally get that, but for me it's those  little almost unnoticeable nuances that give beauty and life to a painting and I'll never get them with the blunter point of a paintbrush.

These were taken with my cell phone so I apologize for the glare. The second photo is after I've transferred the drawing to the panel using conte crayon on the back. I used to make a photo copy of the drawing but then I started to accumulate all of these still life block ins and my studio is already crammed to the gills, so now I trace over the original drawing. I'm excited about painting this one, and as my usual procedure I'll start with the perishable (bread) first. Some artists have started to dispense with the wipe out stage and go directly to the color wash, but I find that it gives a certain richness to the subsequent layers.

Some New Directions

Lately, I've been incorporating some elements into my paintings that are made up from my imagination. I've been looking at some of the artists that I admire, Chardin, Vallayer-Acosta, and the Dutch masters. I started to realize that Chardin probably didn't live in a castle with stone walls and Neolithic looking table tops. A lot of that had to be made up. I don't know it for a fact, but it seems to be true. It seems to be part of a tradition that maybe has been lost, where paintings are either pretty straight forward realism or so expressive that they border on Surrealism. I want the imaginative parts of my paintings to be in harmony with the observed parts and to seem as if they could be real. It's been a lot of fun so far, and it's been opening up some new ideas that I hadn't considered before. Here's a couple that feature some imaginative elements.

"Silent Partners" oil on panel, 9"x12", "Texas Rose, and Lemons" oil on panel, 9"x12".

More "Phoebe", and progress on a new still life

"Phoebe" oil on panel, 9"x12", in progress, "Cherry Tomatoes, and Books" oil on panel, 9"x12". I'm making good progress on the portrait. I started off with a raw umber underpainting over which I painted a color wash underpainting. Today I spent about three hours putting a finishing pass on the eyes. The still life is a new small painting, 9"x12", which I'm painting using daylight. It's taking a little getting used to but I'm enjoying the process.

Red Delicious

"Red Delicious" 12"x16". I have this set up next to a window. The tricky part is that the light on my easel is coming from the right and I'm right handed which means I'm often casting a shadow onto the place that I'm working. It won't be a problem once I start to paint because I use long handled brushes and a maulstick. I had this one all done and I was ready to transfer and I thought measure twice and cut once so I found some egregious errors and had to do dome major surgery.(I'm glad I caught it before the patient died. I fiddled with the idea of placing a mirror in the background, you can see a faint imprint, but I decided I liked the simplicity of the arrangement. I've been letting myself off too easy on the drawing part as of late and I've decided to really bear down and get the drawing absolutely right before I transfer. I chose the all red apples because for one thing, I like the deep reds, but most importantly, they're usually sprayed with something that causes them to last forever.(which is why I don't eat them!)

"Turbans, Mermaid, and Rose"

16" x 20" on oil primed linen. The drawing block in was transferred using tracing paper and charcoal. Some artists will make a smaller drawing and than enlarge it at a copy center. I like to draw at the actual size because I feel it's a bit like a dress rehearsal for making the painting. After drawing, tracing, transferring and inking, I have the memory of those form lines embedded in my brain, kind of like a golfer practicing strokes. My inking of my transferred drawing is always a little wobbly. I wish I had Doug Flynt's steady hand. It doesn't matter too much because I leave the block-in kind of Bargued out (straight lines only) so that I can do a lot of edge drawing with my brush in the finishing pass. The colors of the homemade turbans are pretty intense and look great under the lights so I hope that I can get half of what I'm seeing, it'll be a good painting. Next step is to make a small study in full color and than I'll just start window shading my way across the canvas.

Erica 2

"Erica" oil on linen, 9"x12"

"Still Life with Portrait" etc;

"Still Life with Portrait" 16"x20" oil on linen, is almost done. It's got that haze before oiling out for final touch-ups. I'm still not completely satisfied with the portrait placed the way it is. Last night I dreamed that I painted a frame around the portrait, so I think I'll give it a try. The grisaille is from my Tuesday night figure drawing group. We're doing one pose for the summer, about 8 weeks total. This is on a 16"x20" linen on gatorfoam. I wasn't completely happy with my drawing but the model was moving like crazy, so I locked him in, rather than chase the pose, and relied on my previous knowledge to finish the underpainting. I'll research the anatomy and make adjustments where needed. The self portrait is on an 8"x10" linen board. I'm following Speed's procedure of stating the basic planar divisions in the first pass, just trying to get that to feel right with very little detail. Yesterday, I went in and repainted it ading a bit more detail, but I may have lost the drawing, so I'll have to work that out before going in again. It's a challenging way of working and I'm really loving the whole process.

Vickie and Ingrid

"Vickie" 16"x20" oil on linen panel, is almost finished. I found out that that yesterday's session may be my last with this model so I spent the day repainting parts of the portrait, tidying things up here and there. I figure I can always use a mannequin for the outfit. The figure drawing, 18"x24", pencil and pastel, may end up being my unofficial graduation drawing from GCA. Part timers don't really graduate, but I've been there for over four years, and I followed the proscribed course of study, cast drawing, cast painting, figure drawing, figure painting. It's a great program, and I highly recommend it, but I'm at the point now where I need more than eight three hour sessions with the model to really get a finished figure painting, so I'm going to start hiring models on my own for one long session a week, where there's no deadline, the paintings done when I'm done, and then I'll keep doing portraits etc: in shared sessions with friends. I'll probably still take an occasional workshop there, so I'll still have one toe in the water, so to speak.

Bird Bath

"Bird Bath" 11'x14" oil on canvas. Heres the poster study (5"x7"), drawing and wipeout for a new painting. I've been thinking about this composition for a while. My original plan was to paint it out of doors with the sky reflecting in the water around the flower but I procrastinated so now it sits in my studio. I still might do another one like that in the spring. Anyways I kind of like the idea of the contrast between this very dull colored object and the burgundy red background all being keyed off of the flower. The poster is pretty spot on so I'm debating whether or not to do a fully colored ebauche (underpainting) or just jump right in.

Listening Devices

poster 6"x8", canvas 11"x14".

Egg Jars

"Egg Jars" 8"x10" oil on linen on wood. Transferred my drawing to a panel that I had previously stained. Then I decided to use a hatching technique for the underpainting. I'm not sure why, I just kinda felt like it. I don't think I'll do a colored ebauche over this I think I'll just dig in and start window shading it tomorrow. I'll probably start with the eggs in order to key the values in the painting.

"Morgan" Open Grisaille and Drawing

Here's a new painting ("Morgan" 9"x12") that I started from a three hour drawing that I made at my Tues. night drawing group. I have eight more three hour sessions left on this. My plan is to make a poster study next, do a loose ebauche and then window shade my way down the painting. I'm enjoying this whole process more than words can express.

"Apples" and "Water Glass" Rub-In

Here's the finished painting "Apples and Jug", oil on linen, 9"x12", and the underpainting for "Water Glass and Mirror", 11"x14". The apple painting is not quite as dark as it looks here. I darkened it down in photoshop to get rid of some of the glare. I'm going to have to give it another go before I post it to my website. It's taking me a little bit of time to figure out the nuances of my new studio lighting arrangement. The "Water Glass.." on the other hand looks exactly right, go figure. My process on the water glass so far was to make an exact size, pencil drawing , using the straight line method of blocking-in. Then I traced it and transfered it using hard vine charcoal. Next I inked the drawing and did an open grisaille wipe out using burnt umber and black (the black keeps the paint from drying up too quickly). Today I managed to get a few hours in before the holiday guests arrive, and I rubbed in the basic color scheme. I find this technique to be working very well for me and I may stick with it for a while. I'm pleased with the way the frottis (rub-in) came out. It already has the feel that I want the finished piece to have, so I have to remember to keep the overall simplicity and the "big look" as I begin to windowshade in the form painting and details.

"En Salada"

Tomatoes on the vine and a cucumber from my friends garden. Should be fun if it all stays fresh long enough. Right now they're sitting in the fridge. 11"x14" on stretched linen. Umber is drying too quickly. By the time I get to the table top I can barely wipe the paint off. I'll have to go back to mixing in some ivory black Like I used to do. The only problem with that is that the paint takes a little longer to dry. aargh! Maybe with the perishables on the next one I'll just transfer the drawing to a toned canvas ala Doug Flynt and just go for it. Better chance of nailing the fruit while the colors are prime.

Upcoming Demo

This is the open grisaille or wipeout underpainting for the painting demo that I will be giving on Oct.5 at the Floral Park Art League. It's a small 8"x10" canvas because I'll have just a little over an hour to complete it. In order to control the lighting I have it setup in a cardboard "shadow box" with a spotlight focused on it. I'll have all my colors mixed up about an hour before I get there, so after I talk for a bit I'll be blasting it in. I'll basically be using the same process that I used last time which was to block in the entire painting alla prima and then quickly stitch it all together. Afterwards, I'll pop it into a frame and the winner gets to take it home.

"Stuffed Shirts"

I'm really having to keep my wits about me while painting these shirts. I think this is the most cloth I've ever painted in a single painting. It's good practice and I'm learning as I go so hopefully the next one will go a little smoother. The hardest part is judging the relative value of a given area, because surprisingly enough, my perception of it is going to change as I go along (or maybe not surprising). The other problem is that I have an image in my mind of what I want the painting to look like that doesn't necessarily correspond with what I'm seeing. I need to work from the object to get the "gravitas" I desire but if I copied it exactly as I'm seeing it, it would fall short of my goal. Hope that makes sense.