Getting Into The Galleries

The following article appeared in Art Calendar
October 2004 issue

Excerpt from Living the Artist's Life

Getting Into the Galleries

All right. Let's assume that you're now ready to approach a legitimate gallery. You've exhibited in juried shows, you've exhibited in restaurants and offices, you've found your audience, and are confident of your work. With these things behind you, you're ready for me to begin walking you through the process of approaching galleries. I'll go about this so that you learn to do it right, do it with resolve, and do it well. This doesn't mean that my approach is the only one, but it is one that works.

So, with a well filled-out resume in hand, let's proceed.

Rejection / Perseverance

Before we do go on to the galleries, it's best if you acknowledge that your work will probably be rejected several times initially, and that finding the right gallery will likely be no simple task. Therefore, let me give you one piece of advice about rejection: get used to it. Let me also give you another: determine to persevere, no matter what.

Perseverance is the quality that enables you to handle rejection after rejection, then more rejection, then further rejection, then perhaps a few more years of rejection after that, and still snap back. I'm not saying that those rejections shouldn't depress or anger you, or at times make you want to abandon the whole bloody business. They should, and will. But you'll have to persevere nonetheless-that is, if you want to succeed.

You're the one creating the work. You're the one who has to believe in yourself. You're the one who has to know whether your work is any good. If you do know this, and are certain of your artistic destiny, then no amount of being turned away should make any difference. Sure, you may punch a few holes in some walls before it's over, but after the dust has settled, and you've mended your knuckles, go back out and make the approach again. And again and again. And again.

Don't get desperate. Don't give in to despair. Listen to your inner voice, the one that has assured you about your work, and your place in the world, since the day you first began to create. Voices like that rarely lie (which isn't to say that we don't on occasion misinterpret them). Listen to the reassurance it gives you, assuming it does.

As you listen, and as you prepare to send your work out once more, try to employ resiliency, combined with stubbornness, mellowed with humor, strengthened with discipline, bound with humility. And hell, enjoy yourself while you're at it. You're alive, you're free to create, you're work is maturing. If you learn to take the rejections well, you'll gain strength and character from them. In time, this can lead to one formidable artist, and career. Decide that it will, and that the day is coming when the galleries will be happy to work with you. People respond well to confidence-which should never be confused with arrogance.

Determine that the rejections will help build these things up in you; they can, if you decide to take them that way. They can also destroy you, if you let them. Don't. In the end, the only person who truly has the power to destroy you, is you. That's a tough one to remember, and a tougher one to practice, but from everything I've seen in the world, I believe it to be essentially true.

Now, let's get on to the galleries.

Choosing The Right Gallery

In the beginning, I advise that you start with galleries that are located in a major city or resort near you. Visit them and browse. Don't mention you're an artist, don't mention anything. Just walk around and get a feel for the place. Will your work fit in with the collection? Is the gallery well laid out and well lighted, or is it dim, dusty and reeking of disorganization? Does the place exude contentment and confidence, or despair and ineptitude? Most importantly, are the director and staff snobs, or are they considerate and helpful? If the former, I advise you stay away.

Snobbishness, like so many negative traits, is rooted in insecurity. If the director is this way with you, chances are he's this way with clients, which will only lead to lost sales and commissions. I have to admit though, some snobs do make excellent art dealers, they're just a pain-in-the-ass to work with. In the end it's a personal call. If you feel you can work well with one of these folks, go ahead-just watch your step as you proceed: snobbishness, by my experience, is often an indicator of a lack of integrity, not to mention a lack of enlightenment.

After you've sampled enough galleries to know which you want to approach, drop by and make an appointment to see the director-portfolio in hand. Why do you do this in person? Because requesting an appointment in person normally works better than making a call, since it's harder for someone to refuse you if you're standing in front of them.

If the staff member tells you the director is not looking for new artists, talk the staff member into looking at your work anyway. No, don't hand him a satchel of paintings, hand him the portfolio-with one of your originals nearby in case it's needed. If you're already talking to the director, so much the better. If not, and if the staff member is impressed, try to make the appointment. If one can't be made at that moment, take a business card and call later, persisting until the director either agrees to see you, or gives you an unequivocal no.

If the only way the gallery will view your work is by your mailing them visuals, fine. Type a brief cover letter on quality stationery, enclose the slides and prints, your resume, at least one postcard (remember those?), and a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Also include any press clippings that you may have managed to garner. Give the recipient seven days, then call and ask if they've had time to look everything over. If they have, try to get an appointment to go in and show your work.

The first gallery won't see you? Try a second, then a third and fourth if necessary. No matter how many rejections you get, you must persist. As I've already pointed out, if you've got the talent, and have paid the dues, you will find the right gallery-but only if you're persistent enough; if you're not, you won't.

When you do get your appointment, arrive on time, be brief, be confident, and reflect certainty in your work. Take at least three of your best originals with you. Dress any way you want, just don't go in looking like you're desperate and starving. You want to go in looking like a success, even if that success is only expressed in the mastery of your medium. Make sure your presentation is neat, organized and professional-with quality frames on your paintings if frames are needed, or refined bases (marble, granite, finished wood) on your sculpture if bases are needed.

In my gallery, when an artist walks in the door for an appointment, he'd better be prepared or I'll lose interest fast. Sure I'm primarily looking at the work, but I'm also looking at the artist, and gauging whether he'll be responsible in his obligations. If I see real possibility in the work, I'll help him organize his career, but only if I sense that he'll carry his weight. If he strikes me as being unreliable and undisciplined, I'll politely show him the door-no matter how brilliant the work might be. Headaches like that I just don't need.

Equally important is the manner in which the dealer treats you. Does he treat you with respect? Is he considerate? He may be busy. He may be in debt up to his hindquarters. He may be having one awful day. Even so, you deserve respect for the years of sacrifice you've paid out in mastering whatever it is you do. Bear that sacrifice in mind, and be proud of the accomplishment it reflects. Pride, when wielded wisely, will carry you a long way.

You must also be the same way with the director-starting by making the appointment first, and not by just showing up and expecting him to drop everything for you. Most directors are very busy, operating their gallery on a thin profit margin, assuming they're making a profit at all. It's difficult, vexing work to run a gallery. Just be glad you don't have to do it. All you have to do is paint, or sculpt, or whatever. But the gallery, if they take you on, has to convince the public that you're worth investing in-no mean feat. That's why when you meet the director, it's important that you're aware of the reality he grapples with every day.

What I mean is, when that first meeting occurs, it is critical that you show some form of respect, and that it be returned. Later a deeper sort of respect will have to be earned, and it will have to be mutual. You both will need to achieve this if you're to have a good working relationship; if you don't, you won't. As you're talking with the director, keep this in mind. This two-way street will be one of the most important you'll travel in your career. It involves all the give-and-take of any successful relationship.

©2004 Paul Dorrell. This is an excerpt from the book Living the Artist's Life by Paul Dorrell. Paul Dorrell is the founder of Leopold Gallery (www.leopoldgallery.com). He lives in Kansas City with his wife and two sons.

A Guide to Growing, Persevering, and Succeeding in the Art World