Showing posts with label critiques. Show all posts
Showing posts with label critiques. Show all posts

Monday, July 28, 2008

Creative Retreat

Each year, for the last few years, I have tried to attend a creative retreat. A chance to get away from the normal routine and immerse myself in a creative environment. I recently returned from the Connecticut Polymer Clay Guild Clay ConneCTions 2008 retreat. It was held over the past weekend, and I had a wonderful time, learning, meeting, re-connecting, and claying. The Connecticut Guild is strong, and does a wonderful job putting together this biennial retreat. The very first retreat I attended was put on by the Connecticut Guild in 2004.

One of the best parts of a retreat is the opportunity to meet, and begin to know, people who you might otherwise not get the opportunity to spend time with. Whether it is the person who is sitting across the table from you, or someone leading a demonstration of a technique, or your neighbor at the breakfast table. There are many opportunities to connect, and get to know more people in the broader community. This retreat was no exception for me. Some acquaintances were renewed or deepened, and others began. Either way, it was one of the most valuable gifts that I take away from any retreat experience.

I had a chance to learn a few new tricks and techniques. One of which I have already played around with, and may incorporate into some new crane patterns for next year. I now am a "licensed operator" of the Polymer Clay Express extruder, and will play around in the coming months with some of the new extrusion dies I purchased at the retreat. I love the openness of Polymer Clay Express to consider adding new dies based on requests from users. This makes for a richer tool base for everyone. I am awaiting the delivery of one of their new clay rollers....NOT a pasta machine!....but one built for the strains of conditioning a stiffer material. Wider, stronger, and better designed. I was told it is expected to be delivered in December. I also purchased a motor for my pasta machine. I have begun to experience tendinitis in my elbow....perhaps from all those cranes I have been making!

Over the last few years, I have begun to witness the downside of retreats. It is not something that is in the control of the organizers, and it is behavior that is not limited to creative retreats. Get enough people together, and you are bound to have a bit of toxic energy infecting the event. Fortunately, it is generally so far under the radar that most people do not see it, nor are they affected directly by it. But, it can have long term consequences that can affect all of us.

The source of most of it, is the source of most toxic stuff that floats around in our lives. Envy, deception, misunderstandings, etc. Most of it can be cut short, and often is. But sometimes, it becomes strong enough to do damage. To hurt the vulnerable. To discourage them from attending these sorts of events in the future.

There are definite "classes" within the creative world, just as any other community. We may talk about how wonderful it is that we all get along, and share, and respect.....but, when people are at different places on various spectrum; from experience, to ambition, to knowledge, "classes" form. I remember when I was at the Synergy conference in Baltimore in February. This was one of the best conferences I had ever attended. The concentration of talent and experience in one place was amazing. But it also could easily bring out the most deep-seated sense of inadequacy in nearly anyone.

I remember walking into the large main room at one point, and noticing a table full of "names"...people of significant profile and accomplishment. My first reaction, was one that I am not proud to admit. Why are they all sitting together, isolating themselves? I reacted from a place of inadequacy. That I was not feeling "good enough" to sit at that table. Then, thank goodness, I stopped right there and realized something deeper was going on. I was looking at this table by looking at the surface accomplishments of this group. In reality, this group of people had known each other for years. They had watched each others struggles and growth, and were there for each other through personal challenges, and triumphs. This is why they were together. They were friends relishing in the opportunity to see one another, and catch up with each other.

How often do we look at someone who has accomplished something in their artistic career by their resume? How often do we attempt to get to know that person as a person? Are we hoping to get something from being in proximity to them? And if they disappoint us how do we react? Do we translate those disappointments into an assessment of them as a person? And if we do, is it valid?

I have seen people hurt by the thoughtless spreading of nothing more than gossip. What happens when you are on the receiving end of some of this "hot stuff". Gossip that has it's primary value in the name attached to it? When we pick up the ball and spread the dirt, we are complicit in the damage done. We can say we were only passing on what was told to us. We did not start it. But it is feeding the beast.

What if instead, we turned to the source and said "No, thanks." Deflate the balloon a bit. As soon as we hear it, we feel the need to do something with it. Just don't pick it up. Put it down, and walk away.

And if it is about someone you like and respect, explicitly turn it down. What happens when we just pass the dirt along to the target of the gossip, "so that they know"? Hurt. Hurt with no outlet. No way for the issue to be resolved. The best thing is to just walk away. If someone feels more important by knocking down another artist, then you have elevated them by receiving the gossip. Don't do it.

As my profile in the polymer clay world has risen, the gossip value of my name has most likely increased. I try to stay away from the places where the gossip is most prolific. I have built a virtual cocoon of protection around myself. Not that I want to live in the illusion of my perfection, but rather, I don't need to hear idle speculation or gossip about who I am, and why I am doing things. I am deeply familiar with my own inadequacies. When the gossip does filter my way, I am often surprised as much by the content as by the source. Having that chatter in my head does nothing to nurture my creative self. If anything it chips away at it.

As an artist, we have duty to protect ourselves. How can we be creative if we don't? Your real friends will help you see the full you, but in the context of a relationship built on knowledge and understanding. They will help you be a better you. Gossip never does that. So the next time it comes your way, say, "No thanks, I'm on a gossip-free diet. It doesn't agree with me." You'll feel like you just lost ten pounds!

Don't let the possible negatives keep you away from a wonderful nourishing and enriching experience. Don't expect a lot of work to be done. But do plan on laughing, playing, and making a few new friends.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Following a Path to Joy

Almost eight years ago my dad died suddenly from a heart attack. He actually had at least three heart attacks over a few days. The second one brought him to the hospital, and he ended up with a stent in his heart. But, his heart never stabilized, and later that night he had another heart attack that ruptured his left ventricle. This one was fatal.

At first I was doing what I could to help my mother through this difficult time. But over the next few months, I found that his death affected me more than I thought it did. I found myself slipping into a deep depression. Finally, I sought out a therapist. Eight years, and several therapists later, I think of my Dad, and miss him, but I have also made some deep changes in the way I live my life, and along the way found more joy than I thought was possible.

Why am I sharing this with you? It relates a bit to the post I had recently about Critical Balance. Until this crisis sent me to therapy, I did not realize how much all the negative "stuff" I carried around in my head, and repeated to myself over and over again, inhibited my creativity, and diminished my life overall.

I continue therapy, even though depression is gone from my life, because I have come to realize the work to stay present, and not get caught up in all that "stuff" is something that is on-going. Once a month I get to check-in with the best therapist I could ever have. And once a month I meet with an amazing group of women, and we reflect and share on different aspects of our lives and our experiences. In this process, I can see better where I have been, and how far I have come. I can find where the residue of pain still resides, and carefully explore and heal. And I stay in touch with "me." And if you want to find your voice, there is no better place to start!

This past week, we met, and we wrote about the joy that is in our lives. We were in tears, and laughing, sometimes simultaneously as we shared our reflections. Tonight, I shared with my kids what I wrote, and given their response, I decided to post it here, with the background. I have come to believe, the work I did "on myself" was the best work I ever did to nurture my creative being.

So here goes....

I start to reflect upon my day and the little moments that made me smile, or feel in that moment. What unifies those moments is simply presence. Presence to what is. Presence to a moment that can’t be captured and preserved on film, or in words, or in any way at all as completely as just being there at that moment.

My mom calls to thank me for coming over and for the card from me that she found after we left. We talk for maybe ten minutes, and it is a nice re-connection and reinforcement of our relationship and our bond as mother and daughter.

I take a tray of beads out of the oven. As I collect them into my hand, and then into a container, the subtle sparkle and pattern catches my eye and makes me smile. Yes! This time it worked. These will make some nice pieces. But, just now, they bring me a moment of joy. I roll them around for a moment, in the container, enjoying the visual and tactile experience.

Later I am making cranes. I cover a sheet of clay with a variety of cane slices. The mix of color and pattern sings on this one. I smile in a moment of “yes!”

Packaging and sorting cranes to fill orders. These normally tedious tasks feel good today. I enjoy seeing each crane on the shred, and in it’s own little box. Soon two orders are picked and in boxes to ship. I take pleasure in the ease with which this happened today.

At dinner, I take in Colleen. Her eyes sparkle as she talks. A smile illuminates her already luminous face. We all laugh together as Kaela exudes joy and excitement at all the possible directions her life could take. Each fulfilling an aspect of her being. She can barely get the words out in a coherent sentence, she is so happy about all that lies before her like a feast.

My life is one of abundance. Simple moments. The excitement of the dog to do a trick and get a treat. The sound of my coffee press makes as it slides down. Dave’s voice on the phone.

I had moments of stress and frustration today. But the joy of the moment can be found like sparkling jewels scattered throughout my day.

My little mantra these days is “Create abundance.” Perhaps I don’t need to say create. Maybe it is just about noticing. Being present to all that is here for me already.

....so, what do you think? Does it make you want to start noticing the jewels in your own life? I can guarantee they are there. It is not about the big "wow!" moments. Those are good, but the sustenance comes from finding joy in the moment. The mundane, everyday moments. And, when we find it there, we have less "need" for the other kinds of that the commercials want us to believe are only a purchase away.

If you'd like, feel free to leave a jewel or two in the comments!

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Maintaining Critical Balance

One of the biggest challenges we face as people who rely on our creative output is to maintain the delicate balance between being creative, and engaging our critical eye. Too much in one direction, and we risk never reaching our potential in developing our technique or our design ability. Or, too much in the other direction, and we may never get beyond the sketching or thinking stage.

Criticism is a sharp knife. It can be used as a fine editing tool. Honing our design, refining our technique. All good chefs will tell you a well sharpened knife is an essential tool. A dull knife can make a mess of things, and make the job harder to accomplish. Without the critical eye looking at what we have done, we can only get so far. The critical eye can see the weaknesses that need shoring up, as well as the strengths that maybe should be amplified. It can see what is distracting and needs to be removed.

But that same sharp knife that can be a tool can turn into a weapon that shuts down our creative energy if we do not know how to rein it in properly.

Each needs it's time and place. Creativity is often best served by being unleashed without the critical constraints. Let it go where it wants to go, and play around and explore. Only when it reaches a resting point is it safe to let the critical forces out. Then it is time to step back from your creation, and see it as a product, an output, now removed from you, and ask, "What could be better?" This is not about whether you are an artist who is "good enough". It is about how you, where you are right now, can become better. How your work can become stronger. You are always good enough. But, your work can always be stronger. We never are at a point where our work is "perfect".

So, either alone, or with others, we must critique. Looking to see what worked, and what did not. How to make a piece even stronger than what we have already wrought. Without this important stage, we will never reach our full potential. Once we go through that stage of critiquing, we then need to tell the critical voices that their services are no longer needed for now, and we will call them back when we need them. Then we can get back to work, either reworking, or working anew on this idea that inspired us.

When we try to critique as we create, it is too easy to get caught up in out inadequacies when what we need to be doing, is getting caught up in the creative process. The other problem we often have is making the output of our creativity to be too precious. Our self-esteem becomes deeply entwined into the output. We can't hear the critique in a productive way, if our identity is enmeshed in our work. Our work is our work. It is not us. Some it is will be crap, and some of it will blow us away. We need to accept both for what they are, and learn from both. No one, not even the most amazing artist, whose work you adore, turns out one masterpiece after another. We all have a range. The challenge is to raise the quality overall....the junk is better than it used to be, and the best work gets better.

One of the important lessons I learned from the book Art & Fear, was the value of crappy work. This is when we can have fun. Take that piece that bombed, and have some fun. If you want to lose that sense of preciousness of your work, this is a perfect place to begin. Use those pieces as a place to learn. A place to explore and experiment, and to go places you wouldn't dare under normal circumstances. If you hate it, you can't ruin it. But you can have fun and learn.

The bottom line....The process of creating is precious. Protect it from the critics. The product is just product. It is not precious. It is not us. Let the critics come out and have their say when you are ready to pause. Listen. Notice. See it as a way to learn and grow. And then thank your critics for their input, and tell them to go back in their closet. And get back to having fun creating, testing, playing, experimenting..... Own the process. It is sacred. And control the critics, their weapons can be valuable tools or deadly weapons.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

What Can You Do After A Bad Show?

Throw in the towel? Decide you were crazy to even think this could work?

Those are possibilities, but maybe not the best ones.

First, sit down with a pad of paper. Divide it into two columns. In one column, write down everything that went wrong. Everything you wished you could have a do over on. Everything that you felt 'in over your head' about. For instance, you did not cover your costs. The weather was horrible. You had work stolen. You heard people whispering about how high your prices were to their friend as they walked out of your booth. You were sick as a dog, and you had no choice but to do the show anyway. You forgot half your work, and your were hours from home. Your neighbor kept coming into your booth and complaining about everything. Your booth was in the worst spot in the world.

In the other column, write down everything that was positive about the show. The people who bought your work were in love with it. The weather was gorgeous. Your neighbor at the show was a gem. You made a connection for a possible new outlet for your work, or two other shows that might be a good fit for your work. You found out about a great display at a reasonable cost. Someone gave you a great idea for a new product to try and work on.

These are just a few of some of the good and bad things that have happened to me at shows....and a few fictional ones for kicks! No matter how bad a show has been, I have always walked away with a bit more knowledge or insight. Some of the insight came from what went wrong, and some was gained from a positive experience.

Without looking at the experience, good and bad, we are leaving the outcome of future shows to chance. The more we understand why something is working for us, or what needs to change, the more we can move towards the success we want.

If a show is bad, it is easy to blame the weather, the price of gas, or the promoter. But at every bad show I have had, other artists have done well. Actually, there was one show....I guess you could call it the exception that proves the rule, where no one did well. Many different things can contribute to bad sales at a show. A recent survey by the NAIA (National Association of Independent Artists) is a real Buyer's Beware wake up call for artists about trusting the reputation of a show before investigating further for yourself. Artists who had participated in the Coconut Grove show in Florida were surveyed and it was fascinating to see the effects of charging a gate fee, or inviting other "attractions" to a show can have on the artists' sales. The group also has a survey of the Artists' Landscape on the website, and it is a bleak one. Artists are aging and retiring. Collectors are no-shows at shows. They too are aging, and less interested in acquiring more "stuff".

Are we back to throwing in the towel? That might seem pretty attractive after reading either or both of these surveys.

I think rather than throw in the towel, it is important to look at your approach from the ground up, and start thinking about what is working, and what is not. Thus the list.

Look around at how people are buying luxury goods these days. After all, craft is a luxury good, isn't it? If the way you, your friends and associates, your neighbors, you or your spouses co-workers are indulging themselves, is at the mall, or on the internet, is it any wonder that sales are down at a craft show? If people are spending $25 in gas, $30 in admission fees, and another $15 to $20 on food at a show, is it any wonder that many in the middle class are feeling too pinched to spend another $50, or $250 to purchase a hand-crafted treasure? Is it any wonder that they might feel as if just looking is what is in their budget?

And yet, some people are selling. Some people are succeeding.

It is time for a critical eye on every aspect of what we do. Is our display the best it can be? Is our work priced right? Is this the right show for our work? Have we done anything new lately? Is there another, perhaps better, way to reach your customer? What have you done to add value to your work? This could be through building your reputation in your media, to packaging, to advertising, to adding context or story to your work.

Sitting in the corner of your booth, engrossed in a Sudoko puzzle is not the path to success. Go to a show as a customer. Walk the show and observe. Which booths draw you in? Why? Which artists make you want to buy from them? Why? Which booths do you walk right past without barely a glance? Why? Visit shops and galleries that carry handcrafted work and notice the same thing. What makes you enjoy the experience? Which work draws you in, and why? Is there any work that makes you say...if only they would do, "x", then that piece would be amazing! Now, think about your own work, your booth, your selling style. Where can you improve? What can you do differently? No matter how long you have been in business this type of exercise can be helpful to shake you out of your routine. It can help you see what else is drawing the eyeballs and dollars of your potential customers.

What if you do all that, and you still feel stuck? Then it might be time for outside help, paid consultant or artist friend. If your blindspots seem to be unmoveable, it might be worth the investment. But doing the work on your own first, will make any time spent with a consultant more effective. They will better be able to get a grasp on where you are struggling. The more efficiently you can help them get there with you, the faster they may help you find some solutions. And we all know, time is money.

The same old, same old, is not going to work.

What will you do differently at your next show? Or will you do shows anymore? Maybe your answer will be to find an entirely different route to reach your customers. We can't just wait out the bad economy. We have to work smarter. Things are changing, and what worked ten, twenty years ago, may not work for anyone anymore. It may be time to forge a new path.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

History Lesson

At the recent Synergy Conference, during one of the panel discussions, Elise Winters commented that it would be wonderful if people could see the drawer full of "stuff" that precedes a more fully developed design. Her message was that work does not emerge fully developed. It takes time, trial, error, and a whole lotta ugly sometimes, before a concept reaches a point of "wow".

When I was preparing for my presentation at the conference, I had about 80 artists respond to a survey I put together. One of the comments that stayed with me was about a wish to have kept better records of the development of their work over time. Photos, etc.

Perhaps this is why I felt compelled to spend several hours yesterday, making my own little archive. And as I approach five years of polymer clay addiction, it is probably timely. That, and the fact that I finally had gotten around to setting up a Flickr account.

I highly recommend the journey. While much of the older work is truly cringe worthy, it is also intriguing to me to see patterns emerge. By collecting a selection of images from the hundreds and hundreds on my computer I can see a story. Watching how an idea starts in a rough form, and gradually develops with time. This collection shows some of the development behind my jewelry designs.

When you look at the series of crane pictures, it demonstrate what happens when you do something over and over again. You get better at it. The same can be seen with the vessels.

The earliest work is all over the place. Yet, there are certain things that appealed to me then, and appeal to me still. Who I was as an artist exists within some of that early work. I just couldn't see where I wanted to go with it yet.

In a way it is like any scrapbook of photos. When we look at old pictures of ourselves we cringe at the hairstyles and the fashion. But we also marvel at our youth. Perhaps we looked better than we thought we did at the time. Likewise, I cringed at designs, at finishing, at the photos themselves. But, I also see things there that I still connect with. Or some element that I want to go back and revisit again sometime in the future. Possibilities to still be explored.

I hope, in addition to providing you with a few good laughs, you will also see some of the process of how work emerges and develops. And I hope that you will make your own little archive of your history as an artist. What Elise is doing with her Polymer Art Archives looks at the overall history of the media. Our personal history is full of information as well. Take some time, and look the virtual scrapbook of your work. What patterns emerge? Where have you grown? Is there anything there that you want to revisit and go deeper into?

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Using Your Camera as a Design Tool

When I am working on laying out a new piece, particular if it is large, involved, or a new design, I find that it is a process of simmering, tasting and adjusting. I start out with a general idea, and begin to layout the components for the design. I will get to a certain point and feel like it has to sit with me for awhile. I don't feel certain enough about where I am going to move ahead without some time and space. Time for things to simmer. Some things end up sitting for months! Never getting to a point where I feel like I have a clear direction to resolve whatever it is that feels unresolved for me.

Sometimes I will ask the opinions of my husband or kids, but that rarely helps me work out those ones that just feel "off". I think it may be they don't always have a vocabulary to express why they like or don't like something. It is usually a yes or no, or they respond to an area that I feel more certainty about already.

Recently, I have begun to use my camera to evaluate a piece. I have found that I see things in a photo that are not as apparent to me when I am working with a piece on the table.


While these two photos show essentially the same necklace, there is a difference in how the pods are aligned on each one. The piece on the far left was my first attempt. I wasn't really satisfied with it, but I couldn't tell you why. But after I took a picture, I found I was not happy with how the beads that are on the inner part of each pod seemed to create a line, that to my eye, detracted from the pod forms. When I have arranged them this way, and they were all the same color, it has worked better, but here, I was not satisfied with the outcome. After playing around with the piece, and realigning the pod components, I found it was closer to my inspiration, ....the ocean. It had more of the feel and energy of waves and tumbling water....at least to my eyes! Design is subjective. What appeals to me, may be less appealing to someone else. But in this case, I knew I was less satisfied with the first arrangement than with the second. But it wasn't until I took a picture that I could clearly see what it was that was bothering me with the first attempt.
Similarly, I was planning on creating a collar style necklace with the shibori beads. I began to select colors and beads, and lay them out on my table. The top picture is the first iteration.
















I took a picture, and then rearranged the beads so that the ones that were towards the back came to the front, and the ones in the center front went back. After looking at the pictures, I decided I didn't like either one. In the second arrangement, I found that the beads in the center were too drab and flat, especially for the position. But the two areas of light yellow beads about collarbone level in the first arrangement bothered me as well. The created a sense of discontinuity for me. My eye would be drawn there, and get stuck.
Plan B...or perhaps C? I got rid of the drab beads, and added more of the lighter colored beads. Both lines of beads were going from light to dark now, but the end point has less contrast in value and color. I abandoned the idea of a collar style necklace, and decided to create a kinetic shibori bead necklaces, that would be more wearable.




It is now a long strand, about 36" total length, but joined together so that the wearer can decide which color will lay where. Perhaps the lighter colors towards the front in the warmer months, and darker in the cooler months. Or in between for those hard to decide days! The beads have a small blue lace agate bead as a spacer.




Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Does Being in Business Make You a Better Artist?

I am teaching a class at the Synergy conference in Baltimore next month, called "Should I, or Shouldn't I?" The class is about how to decide whether or not you should try and make money with your craft. In preparation for that class, I sent out some surveys to various artists to get a sense of how being in or out of the business side of art has affected them. What did they learn? What did they wish they knew? How do they make money with their art/craft?

I received an e-mail back from Elise Winters that was full of insight. One of the things she said that has had me thinking all week is that is that sometimes artist believe that they must be in business to be taken seriously as artists. It is Elise's belief that sometimes, the business can become a diversion to developing as an artist.

The subtitle of my blog, "the collision of business and art" implies that there is not always a comfortable alliance between these two worlds of commerce and creation. Many firmly believe that you cannot be true to your art, and be successful in business. I guess I would like to believe that there are no hard and fast rules in this regard. In fact, while being in business did not make me a more authentic artist, it did help me develop as an artist in other ways.

For one thing, it got me in the studio on a regular (daily) basis. And I absolutely believe that you must spend time in the studio to develop you skills, and to develop your voice. Neither of those happen without time in the studio. You can hone other skills, like your powers of observation, without being in the studio. But ultimately your hands need to connect with your medium. You need to be able to know intuitively the limits of your medium. You don't learn this by reading about it, or by spending a few hours a week creating. You learn it by getting your hands dirty.

It also forced me to pay attention to details. Details that are often referred to as finish. Present your work to a gallery owner, or at a craft show, and the first thing someone does is pick it up and start turn it this way and that. Inspecting the finish. How does the back look? How does it feel? How does it fasten? What types of materials are you using? It is easy to ignore these details when you are starting out. Stopping work on a project before attending to these details. Hoping no one will notice that glob of glue on the back that you used to attach the pin back. Under the scruntiny of another person's eyes, you will look more critically at your own work.

But business can become a trap. You can find financial success with work, and get stuck in that style for too long. Long past the time that the public interest has peaked, and your own inspiration has faded. You may find yourself looking too much to external sources of inspiration....fashion, someone else's success....rather than internally to your own creative well spring.

Time spent building a business can be time out of the studio. If you want to create "art" for "art's sake", selling your work can be a distration. But financing that pursuit might be a bit more challenging.

In my own case, I had been looking around for what I was going to be doing in my life. I was half-heartedly trying to enter the world of children's book publishing. So when polymer clay fell into my lap, and I fell in love with the possibilities of this medium, I was soon thinking that I wanted to figure out how I could do this as a business. I had already run a business. I had a business background. I didn't know what form the business might take. But I knew that eventually that was my goal. Perhaps as someone who has a degree in business, and not in art, it was more comfortable terrain.

But first, I had to learn as much as I could about what I could do with this material. At one point my husband referred to this time, and money, spent on experimenting and learning as my art school tuition. I guess you could say I was "home schooled in art". A business professor might have looked at this time as one of research and product development. I probably dove into the world of commerce prematurely. But, as many have said before me, I would rather regret the action taken, than the opportunity passed. And once I dove in, I learned far more than I would have continuing to work away on my own. Even if what I learned was that I was not ready for prime time yet!

It is a delicate balancing act, juggling commerce and creation. And each person has their own tipping point where things go too far one way or another. We must know what our own motivations and goals are before we know if we are in balance.

If your in my class in Baltimore, I have much more wisdom from Elise and others to share. I hope I see you there!

Friday, November 23, 2007

View from the Other Side

I recently was the administrative person for a competition to select three artists to occupy the booth at the ACRE (American Craft Retailer's Expo) wholesale show, in Las Vegas. This was a competition that was sponsored by the National Polymer Clay Guild. The idea was to allow three artists to share a booth at the show and sell their work. The outcome would be increased exposure of high caliber polymer clay work to buyers, and the opportunity for the selected artists to kick off or grow their wholesale business.

I have entered quite a few shows and competitions over the years. And I been accepted, rejected, and wait listed along the way. After a class with Bruce Baker on jurying into shows, my acceptance rate went up, but rejection is still a frequent companion. I applied to three shows for the spring, and I was rejected by three shows. Granted, most of these shows were a stretch. But even so, there are things I can do to improve the likelihood that the outcome will be different next time.

Being on the other side of the process this time was enlightening. I got a better idea of what worked and what didn't. I saw the challenges some artists faced with the application process. I saw how daunting a task it is for the jurors to go through the process of evaluating the work.


So, what specifically did I learn that can help me do better in my own submissions?


1. Photography matters. Great photos made a difference. Photos that are big enough to meet the entry requirements. Photos that show off the work to best advantage. Photos that come alive. Sometimes a digital photo can have a very flat appearance. A good photo does not have this problem. With few exceptions, there was a direct relationship between the quality of the photos and the final position in the scoring. Great photos can help good work look great. Mediocre photos can detract from great work. If you want to see the gold standard in craft photography, visit the websites of some of the best craft photographers. Robert Diamante, Hap Sakwa, George Post, are just a few. See what you may be up against. Paying for top notch photos may be a worthwhile investment in your business, depending upon the shows and competitions you are entering.


2. Consistency matters. One of the biggest problems I saw in the work submitted was when an artist would submit three pictures that were of a similar style, and two pictures that did not relate to the first three. Jurors were looking for a story, a point of view, a voice. Inevitably, at least one juror would mark the artist down because of this.

This was a problem I used to have when I would submit work to a show. I figured showing range was important. My thinking was that if I had enough range, something would connect with the jurors, and that would get me in. In my case, it was a reflection of insecurity. In this competition it seemed to nearly guarantee a reduction in score.

Another reason artist's give for doing this is that they want to have work from two or more lines in the show, so they think they should show both, otherwise they can't bring one. This is a partial myth. If you have two, three, or more lines of jewelry, pick one, your strongest of course, and show that. You can still bring the other jewelry to the show.

If, on the other hand, you have work in two categories...jewelry and mixed media, for example, this is a different story. The cardinal sin is to jury into the non-jewelry category, and then bring jewelry. The competition for a jewelry spot is just too great. If you want to bring both, submit two sets of slides, one in each category. If you try to present both in the same set of slides you are doing yourself a disservice.

3. You need to be strong across the board. You need strong design, good use of color, and good finishing. Jurors are looking at all of these issues. Weakness in any one area may take you out of the running.


4. Jurors come with a point of view. We all have an aesthetic sensibility. Some have an educated sense of design, and for others it is based on experience and an intuitive sense. If we appreciate craft, we have certain things we respond to, and other things we don't. Something like color palette may subconsciously affect a juror's response. Or, a person's work may remind them of another artist's work...even though there may be no real connection.


In multiple cases, two jurors would give raves to an artist's work, and the third would pan it. And it was not because one juror was tougher than the rest. Each juror had certain work that did not connect with them for whatever reason, which the other juror's loved. Or, two jurors were not inspired by work that another juror would rave about.


This is something that is out of our control. We are not selecting the jury pool for the shows and competitions we enter. But, we can try to determine the shows and competitions where our work will be most appreciated.


5. Artists tend to procrastinate. Entries tricked in very slowly until the last few days. I understand this. We are often juggling many things, and putting together a show submission is easy to put off. But recognize that procrastinating about entering shows can come at a price. Technical glitches, on either end, may prevent your entry as the deadline looms. Give yourself enough time to figure out how images need to be submitted, formatted, etc. well before the deadline. It will give you time to think about the best images to present, the order, etc. If you have an hour to deadline and you still haven't been able to figure out how to format the images, you are creating needless stress in your life. If you need help with procrastination in your life, Christine Kane had a recent post on how to overcome this problem. Maybe you can pick up a few ideas of how to slay the procrastination beast.

6. Just trying counts for a lot. Making the decision, and following through, is taking yourself seriously. It is believing in your work and your abilities enough to take the chance. Some may say, "Oh, I never really thought I would get in anyway." But, even so, they applied. Some little voice said, "You should do this. You can do this." And they followed through. It takes courage to do that. It means you are saying you want something, and that you are willing to risk being denied the thing that you want. That is not easy. But it is necessary to move from where you are today to where you want to be. You will inevitably make mistakes. We all do. But, you don't have to own the mistakes. You can give yourself a gentle kick in the butt, and say "Boy, I won't make that mistake again." And the next submission will be stronger, and you will perhaps get what you are asking for that time.

Don't be afraid to ask. Don't hold yourself back from what you want to achieve. There are more than enough obstacles in life without building our own roadblocks. You may not get what you are reaching for, but, with the right attitude and spirit, you can end up richer and stronger in so many ways. You may learn something about yourself, and your dreams, that you would not have otherwise known.


I applaud the artist who entered but did not make it into the show. My heart is with you. There was more talent than there were spaces. This is often the case. That is why we need to work to improve every aspect of our entries. Putting our best forward every time, and each time, trying to make it just a bit better.

Monday, November 19, 2007

What Risks Are You Willing to Take?

No, I am not talking about chemical risks this time, but personal risk. How much are you willing to step outside of your comfort zone to succeed in your business? It is inevitable if we want to move our business forward from it's current state, we need to take some risks. Discomfort is required.

There was a lot of discussion recently on a forum about a very competitive craft show, and how hard it was to get in. There was some cynicism about the verity of a letter that some received saying they were in the top 25% of entrants. The griping was about the cost of entry, and the near impossibility, or so it seemed, to get into these shows.

Finally, another artist, who has done many of the top shows chimed in. He gave some frank, no nonsense advice, based on his own experience. The piece that stuck with me the most was if you want to move into this top circle it comes down to doing what 97% of the people are unwilling to do. It involves taking some risks. Putting yourself in the position of having to hear some hard advice or opinions. Risking rejection.

I think this is true for any entrepreneur, but perhaps more so for someone in the business of craft. There are many opportunities open to those who step forward and make an effort, go the extra mile. Maybe nothing will come of every effort you make. But if you don't even try, you are guaranteed nothing. And each time you get your work and your name out there, you are building your brand.

Elise Winters shared in a recent interview that she enters the Niche awards every year to gain exposure for her work, and polymer clay in general. The people who are judging this competition are very influential, and the potential exposure from exhibiting your work as a winner or finalist at the Rosen show is invaluable.

The artist who posted on the forum suggested making an appointment with the curator of at least one, preferably several, of the top museums in the world of craft. You may have to call several to find one with the time or inclination. Or visit with a gallery owner who is often a juror at top shows. Pay for their time, or make a donation to the museum. His suggested donation, $500. Before you gasp, recognize what it could mean to get the type of advice you could receive from such a person. He suggested that you ask them to look at several of your images and give you feedback. Ask them what they look for in the jurying process. More good advice, was to leave a packet with some images, artist's statement and bio, and your CV. And dress appropriately for the meeting. This is all about making a positive impression, not just with your work, but with the rest of the package. You are not only getting advice. Your work is getting seen and better known.

Are you willing to go the extra mile? Are you doing what you can to network? Does every person you know, or that your spouse knows, know that you are in business as an artist? I recently went to a reception for alumni of my business school. I came armed with a crane for my former professor, who is now the dean. It was a gift. But it was also about letting someone who is connected to many others know what I was up to in a very real and concrete way.

This summer I joined the Origami Society because of the cross over of my work. Several members had approached me at shows, and I finally investigated it, and joined. It provides me with a wider audience to network with, and to learn about more opportunities that might be a good fit for my work. Recently I emerged from lurkdom briefly on the discussion list, and was received warmly. I am back to lurking, but perhaps I won't stay there quite so long next time.

The business of craft is competitive. It takes stretching yourself, and reaching outside your comfort zone to succeed. It takes getting up and starting again after you get knocked down. It does not mean you have to go after the top, top shows to reach your goals. But, have you set goals for yourself? Have you thought about the steps you need to take to reach those goals?

Not everyone has to, wants to, or can be that 3%. But if you are aiming to reach far with your work, it takes more than time and effort in the studio. How badly do you want it? How far outside your comfort zone are you willing to extend yourself? Do you have the resiliency to pick yourself up after a rejection, and try again? Are you making every effort to be professional in your encounters with others?

In the next few months, it is a good time to start considering where you want to go, and what you need to do to acheive your goals. Or at least take the next baby step towards accomplishing your goals. This time is invaluable. It helps us see the progress we have already made, and can motivate us to aim for a new target in the coming year.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Reading Tea Leaves

I don't know if it is reading tea leaves really, or being hit over the head with a mallet! But my current approach to retail shows is not working. Looking at the numbers, the average cost per show has increased, and the average sales per show has decreased. I am approaching a dangerous intersection.


I am not sure exactly where the problem lies, or if perhaps it comes from many places, but I know I need to rethink my approach. The show this weekend in Providence was a beautiful one. The work that was on display was a visual feast. There is so much amazing talent out there. And yet, many artists at the show struggled to cover their show expenses. Lately, I feel like I am making more of an investment in the business of the show promoters, and the collections of the craft buyers, than I am in my own business.


Is the overall craft market in need of a new model? Look at the radical transformation that has occurred in the music industry in the last decade. Does the world of craft need such a reformation? Will craft shows be replaced by Etsy and the Guild.com? There are fewer and fewer shows that have the following, and buyers, to sustain the $1000 or more booth fees that some of the "better" shows are charging. Perhaps two day shows, rather than three? Perhaps more affordable venues? I am not sure. I do know that I am not alone in my struggles in the retail craft world.

In the meantime, I know I need to reform my approach at a show. I have to rethink my merchandising strategies. My knowledge in retail merchandising and display is very limited and needs some rethinking. This is my Achille's heel.


I had the input of a good friend, Sandra McCaw, this weekend about problems with my display. She helped me start to see some of the pitfalls of my current set-up. Buyers need to be able to assess things quickly and easily, or they are on to the next booth. I had grouped things by color. I thought that people would be drawn to certain colors and could gravitate to that area of the display and focus in on that. The order I thought I had created felt chaotic to others. Different styles of jewelry here and there. When I rearranged the work by style, rather than by color, I saw the difference. Light bulb moment.

One of the things that you learn with interior design, and I had also been told was true with booth displays, was to have things at different heights. It helps the eye travel. But, when you have a pedestal and case display for jewelry, things are displayed more or less on the same level. The variations in height are more subtle. But, it works. Perhaps the process of shopping for jewelry is one that needs a more quiet and studied reflection. The levels might work better for larger objects. I am going to be going away from my current booth set-up, and look into cases with pedestals, or hanging my work on the wall in framed shadow box type displays. Cleaner and more elegant. Likewise, Elise Winters made the suggestion to rethink the background for my work, moving from black, to a white background.


The craft market is soft. There is no room for anything less than being spot on in this business, right now. I have not hit the mark. I am rethinking everything right now. Will I continue with retail? Where and how? Will I continue to make and sell my vessels? And of course, where am I going with those displays??



I had scaled back on retail shows this past year. I will cut back further still this coming year. My wholesale business has more than doubled this year, and is looking better all the time. I will spend more time nurturing the development of that part of the business. Right now, the retail side of my business is on life support. Changes are in order. Stay tuned......

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Blind Spots

I am, and always have been, better at the big picture than the details. My husband conversely, spends his days carefully reviewing the fine points of contracts. He spends his days at work immersed in details. I would die in that job. It would be sheer torture for me. Yet he excels at it. There is nothing sexy or glamorous about the work he does. But it is work that has helped his company save millions of dollars. For that they are grateful. And when we have a detailed project to work on, I am grateful to have him around.


So it should not be surprising that it was a detail really that escaped my attention. Yet, details do matter. The details can create balance or disturb it. Small details can make a big difference. I was unconsciously just skimming over this detail. Not looking at the effect that it had on the finished piece.

When I began making my pear and apple vessels, I was focused on the process of creating an organic form that was also a vessel. I was focused on the surface design and technique. I was still learning a great deal about that process and making many choices and discoveries with each new piece. I was disciplining myself to really pay attention to finishing. The sanding. The line of the opening of the vessel. But the very last step, was one that I did not pay enough attention to. When it came to putting a stem on the vessel I did not explore many options. I just made a stem to look like a stem, and put it on the piece. My biggest struggle was in engineering the design of the stem to withstand the handling it received at a show.

Then, about five or six weeks ago, another artist shone some light on the stems. She observed something I had never even considered. The stems did not fit the rest of the piece. It was as if I did them as an afterthought. I had these pieces with this fantastical surface, and then a stem that was very ordinary. In her opinion it detracted from the rest of the work. Another person there agreed. Hmmm. This was something I had never even thought about. It was as if I was blind. I was spending many hours on the piece, and then at the very end, I just finished it without really thinking about the impact of my choice on the piece.
I began with the peppers. I started making some new stems for them using wire. I had to agree. It added a life and energy to the piece that the old stems subtracted. These pictures are not great for seeing the detail of the new stems, but I think you can get the general idea of how much the old stems were NOT working, and that the new stems are a definite improvement.
This week I was busy making some new vessels, and finally was faced with putting the stem on a new pear vessel. I had played around with a wire stem for an apple earlier, and it did not work as effectively as it had on the peppers. I decided I would stick with the approach I had with the rest of the piece. The shape would be literal in translation, but the color would not. It was like someone turned on the light in the room. Was I so focused on "being done" with the piece that I did not spend enough time thinking about this detail? Did I not want to think about it much because it was a detail? Whatever the reason, I now could see what Sara saw so clearly. I spent a little more than a day re-stemming vessels. And I have to say the more I did, the more I liked the outcome. Here is a picture for you to judge for yourself.
Doesn't that old stem just look out of place? There is something about the new stem that makes me want to create this whole new story about these vessels. They now look to me as if they were grown by Alice in Wonderland from seeds she brought back from the other side of the looking glass. Alice's Garden.
I am busy taking pictures, and will eventually update my website with the new images. And I am going to sign up for the critique sessions that were in the new catalog from the local museum school that just arrived in the mail. We all have blind spots. I may not be ready to acknowledge all of mine. But I am grateful to Sara that she shone a light on this one. Thanks Sara!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Criticism, Critiquing, and Choices

I have been playing around with several new ideas lately. It is exciting and scary all at the same time. The new is filled with limitless potential I suppose. But is also on unsteady ground. We have not traveled this path before, and there seem to be more questions than answers. So many decisions and choices to make.

At some point, sharing the work with others can help clear out some of the confusion....sometimes. I am learning that not all audiences are equal. And in the end, your voice or vision is the one that makes the final choices.

I recently shared a few pieces with someone who is close to me, and yet, over the years, has shown she is not so certain about my choices in career, or that she shares my aesthetic. But my enthusiasm outpaced my judgement. The feedback was less than helpful or encouraging, and very vague. Knowing someone well means you can read between the lines much more easily. For two days I was annoyed by some of what was said, and it definitely started me questioning my direction.

After two days of funkiness, the reality of what had happened surfaced again. This person has never been a person who has the knowledge, experience, insight, etc. to be able to really offer a good critique. What did I expect from her? And was she capable of giving it to me? That was the real question to be answered. And when I was honest, the answer was no.

I took those same pieces, and a few other new ones to our Art Salon meeting this past weekend. And the areas that I felt unsure about were zeroed in on by several people. While it seems like this should make me feel more insecure about the work, their feedback gave me the insight I needed to make the pieces stronger. And they pointed out something that needed work that up until then I was just ignoring. They helped me see what I could not see. And they also shared with me what they liked, or dare I say, loved, about the work.

The feedback was broad and specific. It cover the positive and the negative. It was honest, but not brutal in any way shape or form. As I have begun to rework some of these pieces I am realizing the gift I have been given. Their insight will be with me as I move forward. There are several other voices I carry in my head. People who offered me an intelligent insight who have been able to help me strengthen my work. They have strengthened muscles in a way. The focus on a detail or aspect of my work that needed more attention.

So far, the changes have made a big difference. They did not give me solutions to the problems so much as help me see the direction I needed to work towards. They opened a door I did not see. Thanks, guys!