A few weekends ago I attended the Bazaart sale and although I felt that the sale itself could have gone a bit better (fingers crossed for next year), it was a great experience to be out with my work in the public. I think I had forgotten the joy of watching people interact with and respond to my work. It’s something that I think brings immense joy to an artist, but is also something that we are cut off from when we deal primarily with a gallery/shop system to sell our work.
In the past few years I’ve ventured into the whole marketing and selling of my work with some success and a measurable amount of failure as well. I’ve dealt with amazing gallery owners, who are extremely supportive, while others are unapproachable, non-responsive to emails and phone calls and sometimes in my worst case scenario, are selling the work at a price that was not agreed upon. And while the great gallery owners form an intricate part of the marketing system of your work, they may offer feedback about an audience’s reaction to the work, but it’s never the same as being there.
But I always wonder (am I being too negative and neurotic perhaps?) that an audience will respond differently to work when the artist is present. I know that I have shamefully in the past responded far more positively to work than I internally felt so as to save someones feelings. It’s not an honest reaction, but I think we all do it, the little white lies that in truth are likely for the better.
I think in my history I’ve received some honest feedback and critique from close friends, fellow students and advisers. And I thank them all for it as it is from that honesty that I grow as an artist. One critical comment can have a profound effect far greater than any positive “I love your work” response (not that I don’t encourage those as well).
But I had a great experience with honesty a few months ago when I was teaching at the Red Deer College. I taught a ceramics course as well as a 2d Design course. Twice a week these classes were back to back so I ran from one to the other, however they were both hours long so I’d quickly make a meal to take to my design class. Day after day I’d take a bowl or plate from the ceramics workshop created by a variety of different artists and students. Each day my design students would ask if I had made the bowl or plate, to which I responded “no”. This became a daily joke and they began to joke that maybe I didn’t really make pots. So months later I had just pulled some pieces out of the kiln and decided to have lunch in one of my shallow bowls that day. Well by this time the students must have given up on ever seeing one of my pieces and had stopped asking. But when I did show up in class with my bowl one of the students said to me, “oh, I don’t care for that one, it looks like a dog food dish!” I was shocked and amazed, not in anger at what was said, but that for once I had received the most honest and truthful response to my work! I laughed I was so happy, although I never told the student that the piece had been mine, for their sake not mine, but i will never forget that.
Hmmm dog food dish indeed, we all need a bit of honesty in our lives!
