I have found in internet good art articles, here is a small selection:
The Truth Behind Studio Visits: What
Posted Mar 27th, 2008 in Art Opinion.
This article was written by Cindy Davis, owner of Flint River Gallery. It has been edited and published with permission of the author.
I’ve grown to expect some unusual things when I visit artists in their studios.
Art studios are often messy, funny smelling, and dusty. There’s artwork all around, frequently stacked up into big piles, sometimes organized and sometimes not.
The conversations I have with those artists tend flows in the same way—sometimes organized, sometimes not—yet it always feels natural and normal. We may talk of art, pets, dreams, WWII, marketing, pencils, coffee, tile floors, websites, tornadoes, God, varnish, lawn tractors, music, Europe, and Tilly’s cousin who used to live Dawson but then moved in with her mother up in Americus.
Yes, I’ve discussed all of that in the past. Not always in that exact order, of course.
It’s hard to stay put, in an artist’s studio. We’ll start inside, go outside, and come inside again. I’ve climbed behind bookcases, dug through piles of magazines and art, and sat on sofas drinking tea while tossing fuzzy slippers to Chihuahuas.
This is the best way I can describe a studio visit. It really is a lot of fun.
You may have read tips in various artist’s magazines on how to prepare for a studio visit from a gallery owner. Well I’m a gallery owner, and I say hogwash!!
How artists should prepare for a studio visit
Don’t change a thing!
I want to know what you are really like. . . I want to get to know each artist I represent. Yes, I do intend to help sell your art, but the way I’ll do that is by finding a connection with you and finding a connection to your artwork.
Believe me, there isn’t much in your studio, working environment, or living environment that will surprise me.
Sure, you might need to go ahead and print out some documents before a gallery owner drops by. And it would be a good idea to set out your paintings or at least know where they’re located before we arrive.
But other than that, just be yourself!
And here’s a quick word of advice for art buyers
If an artist invites you to visit their studio, don’t hesitate, just do it.
Trust me, you’ll learn more about them in a half-hour at their studio than you ever could by reading their Artist’s Statement in the gallery
If you can, while you’re at the studio, buy something. Oftentimes artists won’t even hint that yes, their artwork is actually for sale. Many are shy about that side of art. Some are not. Either way, try to buy something if you can afford it.
They’re not really expecting to make a sale, but deep down every artist hopes you might like something of theirs enough to purchase it for yourself.
Plus, it always feels good to sell something one-on-one, directly to a collector, without a gallery reception or festival noise clamoring all around you. . . especially to people you like enough to invite over to your studio.
Thoughts on the Timeless Nature of Art
Posted Jul 22nd, 2007 in Art Opinion.
Art is forever.
Think about it. We’ll all pass on at some point, but the paintings, drawings, sculptures, etc., that we create—those may last for hundreds or even thousands of years. Does that inspire you? It certainly inspires me!Sure, I suppose it’s a long shot—most average artists’ work will never be famous enough to be reproduced in art textbooks or hung in museums, achieving true “immortality.”
But yours might. Or do you consider yourself just an average artist? If so, why? To clarify, I’m not asking, “What makes you average?” I’m saying, “Why would you ever consider that you‘re just average?”
If you said “yes,” that you’re just average, I think you’re probably looking at your art right now, not what your art COULD be.
Did Vincent Van Gogh know his art would be worth millions, and that his name would be recognized the world over? No.
Imagine the difference it would have made in his life if he had known. What masterpieces would he have made with that knowledge and extra confidence?
Sometimes I think that when we make art for a living, the day-to-day aspect of it can cover our bigger dreams and ideas. We treat it as a job—which it is, I know—but it’s not JUST that.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a commission you’re working on for someone else, or a series of paintings you’ve put your heart and soul into—all your art will be here a lot longer than you will.
So think about your audience, when you’re painting. Think of all the people, present and future, who will see your art. Give them something amazing to talk about. Your art could last forever. Make it worth it.
Realism painting, skepticism and criticism
Rules of Proportion, perspective and Realism
I have been instructing my art students to pay attention to the importance of proportions, perspective and their rules. How, very simple:
What Good Are Art Dealers?
Nobody likes art dealers. Artists don't like them because dealers keep half the price of every piece of art they sell. Art buyers, collectors, and investors don't like them because dealers charge top dollar. (Even dealers don't like dealers, but that's another article.) So do art dealers do anything other than inject themselves into art business transactions, jack prices, and extract money from the investment pool? They must do something. Otherwise they wouldn't be here, would they? Let's explore.
"I buy art, none of it from dealers," you say. "I don't waste my hard-earned cash contributing to art gallery extravaganzas. I do my art investing entirely outside the gallery system; art dealers and their galleries get nothing from me. Forget those oversized, high-ceilinged, space-wasting progressions of near empty rooms in expensive parts of town. I know what I like, where to find it, how to spot a good investment, what to pay, and I don't need any art dealer to tell me different."
Of course you don't. You live and breathe art. You spend eight, ten, twelve hours a day involved in art-related activities. You subscribe to every trade publication that has anything to do with the art you buy. You continually see museum shows, read books and exhibit catalogues, and talk with dealers, collectors, and others who know art in order to stay on top of the market.
You've looked at art for years and years, and have seen tens of thousands of pieces, perhaps hundreds of thousands, perhaps more. As a result, you've cultivated and refined an eye for quality, and can make fine line distinctions as well as any art business professional. You've discussed, dissected, and evaluated thousands of works of art with people in the know, and can accurately assess the significance of whatever it is you're looking at.
You understand the art market from both retail and wholesale perspectives; you follow plenty of galleries and auction houses, not only locally, but nationally and internationally. You know who's showing what, and why, and how much they're selling it for. You can spot good quality art at a fair price, and know the difference between a bargain and a third-rate piece of crap, not to mention fakes, scams, and cons. When you see art you like, you know what questions to ask, what to look for, and why buying that art represents a constructive use of your money ("Because it's cheaper than Triple-A Fine Arts sells it for" is not a good reason).
You can spot an artist with talent and potential before just about anyone else; you know when art breaks new ground. You know the difference between a leader and a follower, between "here today; gone tomorrow" and "here to stay." You go beyond what the art looks like, inspect its structural integrity, and evaluate, from a variety of standpoints, how it'll hold up over time. You can look at dozens or even hundreds of works of art by any given artist and separate out those that best represent the true range of that artist's skills and abilities.
"Exactly," you say. "Gallery junkies are a bunch of suckers, shelling out the fat cash on art I can buy for a buck three ninety-eight on eBay. Just last week, I nailed a Jackson Pollock splatter painting that the seller recently discovered in the back room of an important Palm Beach pawnshop, stored there since the sixties. I stole it for a measly seventeen grand right out from under the noses of eBay's 60 million users. As soon as I get it authenticated, it'll be worth a fortune."
"I'm an artist," you say. "I spend my life making art, slaving away, compelled to express myself for all the world to see and judge. The results of my efforts sap every last ounce of my strength, so here I am, a spent amoebic blob, splayed out, surrounded by product, and ready to make money. But no, something stands in my way, and its name is art dealer. I can sell my own art, thank you. I don't need you and your gallery to take half of every dollar that my life's calling entitles me to."
Of course you don't. You've got the perfect space to show your art, right? It's a great location, convenient, with plenty of parking, and it's near other retail establishments where people who to buy art tend to congregate, dine out, entertain themselves, or shop for goods and services. Your space is sparse, expansive, well appointed, designed and lit, and when you show your art there, it looks about as good as it's ever going to look, outside of maybe The Louvre.
You're comfortable around people who buy art; you're well connected, you socialize with art buyers, and participate in activities and belong to groups and organizations that they belong to. You know how art buyers think, how much they know about art, and how to talk to them about art in language they can understand. You are an interpreter who takes complex concepts, raw emotion, or sensitive subjects, and makes them palatable to those who might otherwise shy away.
You're at ease talking about art and money; you know how to price your art within the context of its market, and can explain your prices to anyone who asks without unnerving them. You sense when someone is on the verge of purchase, ready to buy, and you know exactly what to say and when to say it in order to turn the deal, reveal the checkbook, and accept the remuneration that your art so justly deserves. As for the occasional parasites, blabbermouths, energy drains, poseurs, time wasters, know it alls, and deadbeats who hover about the art scene-- you see them coming and blow them off with ease.
Just like art dealers, you evaluate all kinds of art by all kinds of artists all the time. You continually talk about art, interact with artists, study and learn about art, read about art, decide what art is good or better or best, figure out what pieces to show, and how most effectively to display them. You carefully analyze every detail of every piece of art before it leaves your studio. You make continual art-to-art comparisons, and use your extensive knowledge and overview of the local, regional, national, international or whatever art realm you travel in to assure that your art not only satisfies your high personal standards, but can also withstand public scrutiny.
You believe in your art to such an extent that you spend thousands or tens of thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars per month to go public with your convictions, and to persuade others that your vision is a valid one. That vision attracts a wide range of contacts from throughout the art community, and energizes them to such an extent that they reward you financially, with profit, allowing you to continue to put forth what you believe to be among the most worthwhile works of art being produced today. Art critics, curators, influential collectors, and others in positions of power in the art world talk, write, gossip, trash, love, hate, sabotage, and otherwise opine on your art nonstop and in every way imaginable. These people don't bother you. In fact, they respect you because they know you'll prevail against anyone who tries to take you down.
"O.K., so maybe art dealers deserve commissions," you concede. "Fifteen percent."
Articles and content copyright Alan Bamberger 1998-2008. All rights reserved
Getting Your Name Out
Painting takes time. Marketing takes more time, and money. It\'s not enough to create great paintings, you have to also work at getting your name \'out\' - recognizable by people who matter in the art world at your level. How to accomplish this on a limited budget? Thanks to the internet, many new low cost options are available.
1. Offer people who visit your website something of value. Write an article or post a demo. I enter juried watercolor exhibits and keep a list of the upcoming opportunities on my site for my friends and other artists.
2. Promote your website. Printed material such as color postcards have become more affordable. Always have your name and contact information (web site!) in a prominent place. (My name goes on the front of the card, with the image.)
3. Network, network, network. Link to every group and show and gallery. After you\'ve been in an exhibit, send a thank you letter, with an image on the page. Set up an easy to use mailing list program and send \'updates\' regularly. For some artists, this may be once a year, others four to six times a year, but be persistant! If you have no other information to dispense, just a postcard with a new painting will help people remember who you are and what you do. At Christmas I sent magnetic calendars with my image and contact information in a card.
4. Advertising is expensive, but group rates are always lower. Join a group that offers group advertising, or form one. If there is no group in your area, look for an online group and help promote each other. This can offer much wider exposure for less work and cost. I was juried into the International Guild of Realism and am happy to be able to pay for part of a group magazine ad. Not only do I get the benefit of professional copysetting, I get the public endorsement of the group and the gallery, where the show is being held.
5. Keep your work \'out there.\' If you have paintings at the local library or coffee shop or anywhere the public might visit, it\'s better than at home. The list of on-line places hosting artwork is growing every day, but be sure to check for the fine print.
6. Take all the information that\'s useful to you and make a plan. Set a budget, goals, a time-line, then evaluate how effective it is in six months or a year\'s time. Writing down goals is a powerful tool to motivate yourself. Set goals that you have control of - I will enter three juried exhibits, not I will be accepted in three juried exhibits.
7. Maximize your efforts. If you hang a show somewhere, have contact information readily available for people to pick up. (I have seen so many exhibits where I couldn\'t even find the artist\'s name, let alone contact information.) If you can afford it, pay for a copywriter for your promotional cards and publicity. Looking professional adds to your credibility, and might not be as expensive as you think. Maintain any contacts you make, with people or galleries, etc. It takes several exposures to have a lasting effect on human memory.
8. Realize that your marketing skills will improve with use, just as your painting skills do. Start small and keep going. Jot down ideas that seem helpful in a notebook. Don\'t expect overnight success, but do remind yourself that, as long as you consistently market yourself, you will have success.
Share, Don't Sell
If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a thousand times from artists: “I don’t want to sound like a used car salesman when I sell my work.” My response: Who says you have to do that?
Sales talk is hard for most artists. Heck, it’s difficult for most people in general. It’s unnatural and it usually doesn’t work. Too many people are turned off by it. Sales these days are the result of building relationships over a period of time. They’re about showing people you care about them. And what better way to show you care than to share your art with them?
Copyright 2007 Alyson B. Stanfield. Alyson takes the mystery out of marketing your art and making more money as an artist. Visit http://www.ArtBizCoach.com to get articles just like this one delivered to your inbox.