Studio Tour!

Here we are, first ever studio tour! Go, team, go! 

So what is it you really need to know about open studio formats for selling art work? Number one would be how you optimize sales and what are the other take aways besides money that make it a wise investment.

To start with, for me, the bottom line was very important: did I break even? (I have very modest goals.) And the answer to that one is yes! Thank heavens! Whoohoo! I am ecstatic. I sold five pieces of art and though the experience was a lot of work, it has put some gears in motion to possibly replay the event as a pre-Christmas “sale”. In addition I was able to move a portion of my work to my regular gallery, The Artists Corner and Gallery, in Acton, MA and tag along on their open studio event as well.

The single most important factor in the staging of this invent was ensuring an adequate flow of traffic (and thereby sales) by being part of a larger group, the studio tour. In my case the tour was organized by others (yes!) and they provided maps (a must) of all the studios on the tour and even signs to stick in your front lawn. Cool. It was the first year, so traffic was light, but expected to improve with each year the tour is held, as evidenced by tours in other towns which are typically packed with eager buyers. Though there were no purchased ads in the media that I know of, the organizers and the artists each made ample use of social media on their own. I can't imagine trying to do an open studio without that important tie in to another group. There are things I would tweak, but all in all, it worked out well.

I took great care to produce, especially for this format, a number of lower priced items. I was pre-warned that most items that sell are below $50. The theory is that it works a lot like a Tupperware sale – you must (if you are a friend of the artist) buy something or risk offense. I sold one such item, but the rest were more expensive items above that amount so my extra work producing items at a lower price point would seem to be unnecessary. Interesting. We will see if that holds in years to come.

Besides breaking even, visibility is another positive take away from the event and not just with the general public. You will likely meet a number of other artists and people from your own community that you didn't even know were there, probably because art is pretty much a solitary venture. I had a number of artists showing up to reconnoiter, as well as newcomers to the community who wanted to see more of what our small town was all about and get to know people. My personal fantasy was that an important gallery owner would take the tour just to spy out up and coming talent. If so, they remain, to this day, incognito. Sigh.

A slightly shameful plus from this experience was that my house is now clean! Briefly. The dust settles fast in my neck of the woods and the clutter is magically returning to its previous parking spaces. My dining room is still home to numerous bins of art, so if I do a Christmas sale, I'm ready. Some of it, as previously mentioned, will move to another venue, which I would not have explored without the extra preparation that I did for my studio sale. I now have a body of work ready to ship that is inventoried/catalogued, packaged, priced, and labeled, not just the two pieces I usually prepare for a local group show. This task was huge, but it is now done. I will also be listing more of my work on my website and on Etsy, things that would have happened at a much slower pace without the impetus of a show looming on the horizon.

So, I am now back to my regular routine, charting a course ahead, which will likely include more of an online presence and flip-flopping on whether or not to do a Christmas sale at my house. That may turn into a black Friday/cyber Monday event instead. Provided my computer keeps limping along.

-Vicky

Signaturizing

Signaturizing: it's a new term. I just invented it. Its when you sign a piece of artwork. It is not as easy as it looks due to the texture of the paint, the canvas itself and the way a paint brush works. Oil paint is a little gloppy (a technical term) so it needs to be thinned enough to flow off a brush without being drippy (another technical term). The brush needs to be able to hold the paint and let it flow off. I'm thinking that a particular type of medium and combination of oils, varnishes, thinners and whatnot may make the job a lot easier. If you were a calligrapher you would just use ink, which is opaque and it flows into swirls and twirls making a beautiful graphic. Oil paint, when thinned that much just drips and is not opaque. Hence, my "expressive" but not so fluid use of plain block letters rather than Copperplate Deluxe.

If I am having a lot of trouble it is very tempting to just use my initials. There are many artists who did this, such as Toulouse Lautrec or Albrecht Durer. I don't think I'm quite in that class and as a marketing ploy this only works if you are AT&T or the POTUS and everyone already knows who you are. This is not the case with most artists so having your full last name clearly included is necessary so they can say, “Oh, another brilliant Haskell watercolor. How nice.” Otherwise they will be scratching their heads saying, “VAHS? Who is this German savant?”

Then there are the decisions surrounding where to locate the signature. Lower left or lower right is the norm, but sometimes it is a little too distracting, depending on the characteristics and level of detail of that corner. I like it to be visible and legible, but not shouting at you. You want your audience to focus on the art itself, not your John Hancock. With drawings and watercolors it is fun to let it crawl up a tree trunk or frond of grass like an caterpillar looking for a fresh green leaf. I like that idea for something that is viewed up close, but for something that may be viewed from distance, you want your clientele to know, right off the bat, who painted it and be obsessed with the idea that they have to have it on the walls of their humble abode and then buy, buy, buy. 

Five Again, Fantasies of Spring

I decided to give the lingering gray landscape a hint of spring. Note the yellow-greens creeping in. It's a total fantasy, though there have been surprise spring storms to cover up the daffodils in the past, that kind of bright green and what looks like a good 18" isn't a terribly likely combination. But, I'm feeling more encouraged about life as I paint these, despite the late start to my day and the nasty fight with my electronics this morning. Painting has a way of transporting me to another place, a good place, despite whatever setbacks may have occurred previously.

First brush is the deepest. I must be listening to some oldies radio stations.

Once again there is variation between each panel. That's a good thing. The whole, multiple panels at the same time allows me to loosen up more and try more different arrangements of colors and designs all on a small scale.

Final art.

I'm liking these again. I do have to make an effort to balance the looser brush strokes with the more refined areas. When is it just plain sloppy and when does it become overworked or self-conscious? Decisions, decisions. I am finding it useful to select and edit based on whether the particular brush stroke expresses the shape and blends into the fabric of the whole, rather than sitting like an ugly duckling on top of the picture calling attention to itself. But, I do so like those aggressive strokes, like an overly eager student in a class on Shakespeare, "Me too! Look here!". I am afraid I indulge them a bit too much at times. It is a classic case of "falling in love with your own brushstrokes" and thereby saving them past their prime. But "killing your darlings" is way to hard a job for this humble stumbler.

I don't think I had quite enough time to really finish these five. The houses need a tad more "je ne sais quoi" and I totally forgot to make it snow. This Friday, more white stuff on the way.

Five at a Time

This was an interesting experiment that, fortunately, turned out well. I am pleased. I had been reworking larger soupy winter scenes and loosening up my brush work quite a bit, as well as the ways in which I delineate masses and forms. I have worked in series before and I had worked in small format with watercolor and ink paintings, but I hadn't tried tiny oils in a while. And I did it step by step on Facebook. Kind of brazen of me. It could have been an epic fail, but it wasn't.

Below, is the first. All white tiny white Masonite boards ready to go. Bing, bing, bing.

Here we have works in progress. It started with the horizon, distant trees, then added snow and brush.

Look at that, some happy trees!

Where did that red come from? Non of these are alike. I am letting myself explore and have fun.

The snow apparently, does not fall the same way in these woods twice. 

Now, to snow or not to snow, that is the question. Flake making is a particular art form. They must be random rather than evenly spaced, sparse, and tiny. You must also include flakes on all surfaces, including the white ones, otherwise its just not snowing.

Below are the final versions, with snow, without a signature. I am going to let them dry and then sign them on top of the dried layers, that way I can rub it out and try again if my hand shakes too much. The signature is sometimes the hardest part!

Postscript: I had carefully measured and planned the size of these paintings, 3.5 x 5 inches to fit in standard size picture frames, some of which I had in stock, though currently occupied by my dearly departed whom I was loath to re-locate. Apparently with the advent of the digital age, people are no longer printing small photos, hence small picture frames are no longer reliably stocked by your local big box store and the selection available is very low end. People are now keeping their valuable photo memories on their cell phones or other devices. Much more convenient, if you ask me, however, I now need to devise an alternative framing scheme. With some research I have decided to put these each within a floating frame which is much larger than the work itself. I think that the added white space around them will definitely enhance their appearance and set them off more from surroundings. 

Be The Pink

Here is the final picture of woodland creatures. Foxes. You need to see the foxes.

So, clearly this won't do for my gallery's show, but I am content with the look of the thing.

The bottom line for me, is that I've been accomplishing a lot with the paint, looking out my studio windows at the snow, the melt, the trees, the fog, the change in seasons. Then I took the plunge and re-worked several paintings that had been total failures. And now they are not failures anymore. I think I've made some progress in the nitty gritty of how I work the paint, the way I shape the brush strokes, the thickness and thinness of the paint, the choice of brush. I'm not painting carefully and trying so hard. I'm splashing more in that I'm dabbing and working, stating and brushing it out, softening things, re-stating and going again. This is important, this looseness. When I paint a tree, I'm not painting the branches individually, I'm letting the branches emerge from the media here and there and represent the tree, not forensically delineate the individual foliage. I'm also not giving up. I'm going further than I have before to attempt to capture something. I don't know what that is. Painting it is a way of thinking and explore it, wordlessly without grammar and syntax. There is no, “lets put some pink here, la-de-da, that was nice, now some blue”. That's an intellectual exercise. Painting well needs a feeling that comes and whispers in your ear, “I am pink” and I can feel like that pink, be that pink, but only if that pink is there and it is calling to me. Otherwise, I am blue.

Fail Big

Much has been written about Sarah Blakely, the billionaire entrepreneur CEO of Spanx and her recipe for success. I recently saw an interview with her on PBS and one thing that really stood out was her relationship with her father, who would ask her each day, “So, what did you fail at today?” And if there were no failures, her father would be disappointed. Failure was not an outcome to be feared. The only poor outcome is a lack of trying. What the interview skips over was the level of support that she got from her father and the “co-conspiratorial” atmosphere that prevailed. He was behind her 100% no matter what.

The whole of the interview is available in text form from Forbes and there are many additional points in her success recipe, some of which are plain common sense and some of which I have heard in other contexts. She makes the point that fresh ideas are fragile, so don't tell anyone right away. So true! Work out those kinks first. People will throw shade and we all have a favorite Eeyore in our lives who will, unintentionally, knock us back a pace. Don't tell those people! Just do it! Go down that street and wave back at them from the summit.

As an artist, we are often reticent to put ourselves out there, to go further with a project, to take risks. And worse, each time we fail at a project or are rejected for a show, we take it to heart. What if our significant others were behind us like Sara's father was?

For me, personally, the last two weeks have been a trip down Failure Lane and I am celebrating it. I learned a lot! So let me tell you about my latest “Oops!” and why I love it. It started with my gallery, The Artists Corner and Gallery in Acton, MA,  announcing a show featuring our four footed friends and I have one, in residence, my favorite roommate and, though I don't usually do animal art, I am open to doing new things and thought I could give it a try.

I was aiming at “mysterious” rather than “cute” or “sentimental”. So I did sketches and eventually a linoleum cut.

Which I liked the first go of as far as it went. The concept was to give the blanket behind it some swirls, representing the dreams of the cat. The lower folds would be shaped like The Mother's Paws. Carving the design into the further folds of the afghan ended up looking somewhat busy and did not balance well against the lower bedspread, which really needs to be lighter (next state to be be worked). I like dramatic flat black areas and light areas that balance and play well.

The next problem I ran into, besides design issues (which I will fix in the next revision), were technical ones with the ink. I was using an ink I hadn't tried before (duh! what was I thinking?) and ran into problems from the get go.

First, I spread out too much and it was too goopy and then it was too dry and I didn't have the special extender that they want you to use because it won't mix with ANYTHING else but that. Cute. I have since learned (thank you Utube) that battleship type of linoleums need to be printed on an etching press to get that really nice solid black tone. Fortunately, I have an etching press! Unfortunately, the press is in the attic. On to the “To Do” list it goes.

I will keep working on this project, even though I will miss my show deadline, because the value of a piece of artwork is in my connection to it. I need to explore and resolve the issues that I started with this subject. There is something there. I don't necessarily know what it is, but I haven't found it and expressed it completely enough for me. I find that more and more, I have returned to subjects, especially ones that didn't work out, and re-worked them, explored them, done more with them than before. I have to find that thing I was looking for when I started them.

Another plus, with this project is that it has gotten me working on my lino/woodblock cutting again. I have a backlog of work that needs printing and has an audience and a fan base of people who really like my work! Success is relative.