making an exhibition of myself
This is a photo from the good old days. Or 2019
as I like to call them.
I was saying goodbye to my empty booth after
The Other Art Fair, New York in November 2019.
Little did I know that it would be the last fair I
would exhibit at for eleven months and counting.
What a strange year it has been since then, when art has taken a back seat to far a more important turn of events. I’m thankful my family and I are doing ok, when so many are not.
But, with seven shows cancelled, the isolation of lockdown has made me realise even more strongly how much I miss taking part in art fairs.
So, I thought I’d write about what it’s like to take part in The Other Art Fair, one of my favourites….
The Other Art Fair first opened in London 9 years ago. Since then it has expanded into New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Dallas, Melbourne, Sydney and Toronto.
I’ll always remember Booth No.90 - my first stand at TOAF. Oh, how much I’ve learned since then! I was still hanging work 2 minutes before the grand opening, sweating so much I had to dry my armpits under the hand dryers in the bathroom.! Too much information?! The moments before opening can often be nervous times as you’re trying to get everything just right.
Actually the hanging day is one of my favourite parts of the fair. Once you’ve navigated the traffic jam of vans outisde and lugged all your boxes and bags of delicate artwork to your stand you’re greeted with the lovely sound of hammering and drilling as the artists begin to transform their emtpy white booths. I really do love that sound! It makes me feel that we’re all in it together, part of a club, part of the artist family. And it reminds me that I really need to get cracking. But not before having a quick catch up with a few of the artists I haven’t seen in a while - it’s a bit like going back to school after the holidays.
One thing I’ve learnt from my early exhibitions is to plan my booth. Having a clear idea of how it will look is crucial. I try to have a mix of strong colours spread across the stand. It often helps to have the brightest pieces high up on the side walls to catch the eyes of visitors as they wonder up and down the aisles. Gradually our booths take shape, and suddenly there are crowds of people flooding through the entrance.
And that’s what I have really missed - the human interaction, meeting people face to face and chatting about my work and why I’m so passionate about it. It gives me energy and, for the most part, reminds me why I love being an artist. I can’t wait for the real-life shows to return (The Old Truman Brewery, Oct 5-8th with any luck).
The psychology of exhibiting is fascinating. You experience so many highs and lows. You can be on your feet all day, with barely any time to eat, or or you can find yourself patrolling your booth like an over-zealous prison guard in the quieter times. One minute you can feel dejected, the next minute you can feel elated. And no matter what you feel, good or bad, you have to wear that smile all the time and be ready to be full of enthusiasm at any moment! I once went two days without a sale and my shoulders were beginning to droop, Then suddenly six pieces found new homes in an hour. It’s the hope that keeps us going!
And each other. That’s another thing I love about art fairs - the camaraderie and friendships with my fellow artists, especially those with booths nearby. They’re the ones who pick you up when you’re feeling down, give you energy when exhaustion takes hold, and keep you up when you’re flying high. You get to know your neighbours prettty well over the three or four days of a fair. That’s why we often feel sad when the show is over. And the end is so sudden too. One minute it’s crazy busy, then the next minute it’s eerily quiet and the venue is once again an empty shell.
There are so many different stages of the art fair experience: 1) Creating the work, 2) Marketing, 3 )Wrapping and packing, 4) Loading and unloading, 5) Hanging, 6) Talking and smiling, 7) Talking and smiling, 8) Talking and smiling, 9) Wrapping and packing, 10) Loading and unloading. And finally the post-fair feeling - when you’re ecstatic because you’ve had a great fair or miserable because no-one bought your work; you’re so tired you are desparate to lie down in a dark room, but you’re still so wired you can’t get to sleep; you’re so relieved it’s all over yet you’re miserable it’s all over.
Exhibiting is full of contraditions and ups and downs. And no matter how we have faired at the fair we always go back for more. At least in the good old days. I look forward to seeing you at the next ‘real’show soon…