Monday, August 21, 2006

Stratiegery

I just made it into a somewhat major biennial. The “somewhat” here only qualifies the “major” in terms of perception. It is actually a very good show. It’s kind of new, and that may have something to do with its lack of buzz, but it does get good, respectable, coverage, and good artists have come out of it. But this post is about balancing rejection with your goals and your outlook.
There’s this piece I have been working on for years. Literally. Ever since I conceived it, I got nothing but support from my peers and teachers (except for one certain famous conceptual artist whose work I wasn’t crazy about anyway). I never tried to peddle it around, because I knew it was far from ready, so there wasn’t much to show. After some time I got a hold of 3 dimensional rendering software, and became fluent enough in it to render my idea and work out its kinks without investing much in hardware and labor time. Now I felt I was ready to submit it to different places. I went for institutions, as opposed to galleries, because I wanted funding to build it. I sent one proposal to the Sculpture Center, because they have a very good space, and they don’t seem to have a narrow aesthetic agenda in their curating. I usually send a lot of these proposals out, and then go about my business without waiting by the mailbox, but to be honest, I was very surprised when they rejected me, because I’ve seen work there of pretty bad quality next to excellent work, so I figured if they’re using “filler” then they must be in need of good work.
Later I went to Creative Time to take advantage of their Open Door program, where you can show work to them to get some sort of assessment on it. I showed them another piece which I thought better suited their concerns and agenda, but I took copies of the Sculpture Center proposal, in case they wanted to see older work. I wasn’t expecting an offer, I just wanted a critique on the piece. They gave me some good advice on how to try to make it work, and even suggested some venues for it. Then they wanted to talk about the SC proposal. I explained it to them, and they loved it. I told them “Actually, I didn’t submit this one to you, because I know it’s good. I just need to build the darn thing already!” Also I knew that, good as it was, it really wasn't for them for a variety of reasons.
While all of this was going on, I had my eye on a certain Biennial here in NY, hosted by a Museum whose curating I really admire. From among the many venues in NY, this was one that I really cared about being in, because I thought we would be such a good match. Well, apparently they felt the same way, because I got in.
I know many people who only know about 3 major review shows, maybe 20 blue chip galleries in Chelsea, and that’s it. They apply to those, get rejected, and then they get frustrated!
So here’s the preachy part of the post:
DON'T DO THAT
All you’re doing is building up expectations about a few private institutions who only partly care about art. They balance their aesthetic concerns with a business model; a WASPy business model, and frankly, there is little room in there for unknowns. Chances are that you would probably run the place in the same manner if you were in their shoes, because of the ridiculous importance that celebrety plays in our societies.
As far as submitting to the large survey shows, yes, fine, definitely submit if you think you have something they’ll care about, but make sure you do submit to the ones where you fit in even if they’re not as flashy. Those may be smaller, but if you get in, your work will be shown to a captive audience of curators and critics. This will exponentially increase your chances of making it into the big ones, which in the end are more about the market than about art itself.
Here’s one of the healthiest habits you can cultivate while you are an artist:
Whenever you go to a gallery, or read and article about a show, if the work on display, or the theme of the show feel like your work, take a card with you, or rip the page out of the magazine and save it in an envelope. We all save the cards from the hottest shows, or bring home the business card of such-and-such that we met at this-or-that opening. Please keep those somewhere else. If your networking envelope looks like a survey of every first floor gallery between 25th and 18th streets, then I just wasted 20 minutes writing this. Not only will you never work your way through such an envelope, you will get rejected so many times, you will loose perspective on your own artistic purpose. Remember, if you truly are an artist, then you’re supposed to be doing art REGARDLESS of gallery acceptance. Galleries are only the business end of the equation, not the whole equation. As you complete work, or as your ideas develop, submit them to the people on your networking envelope in a discerning manner. You are bound to get a more productive response, better leads, or what you really want, a commitment from them to fit you into a venue.
Of course this doesn’t mean that you will waste yourself away running through every single hipster group show on the LES or Williamsburg. That can be just as distracting. Just be in touch with what the different scenes are, see where you might be able to gain some sort of ground, and if your scene doesn’t exist, then make it yourself!