Craft Shows

Tenth in the  series “Thoughtful Thursdays”

One of the most visible ways of selling art in a place like Tulare County is the ubiquitous arts and craft fair. There was a time when these were rare events, and one of the best was and still is our very own Redbud Festival. The Redbud had an aura of specialness around it to me as a girl. My great Aunt Mary would tell us about her weaving or the Tibetan “boys” who sold the exquisite rugs of their native country to support themselves through COS.

When choosing shows to participate in, one needs a sense of the show – is it organized, publicized and well-attended? Does one’s work fit? Is there too much similar work already at the show? Will it be worth the work and travel time and expenses? As with much of the business of art, a crystal ball would be a great asset!

The vendors must decide what to take, then gather, package, price and load it. In addition to the merchandise, there are all the display items. Once it is all transported to the site,  it must be unloaded and carried to a 10×10′ square where it gets arranged into a beautiful but temporary show space. There are little details to be worked out with neighboring vendors, making sure that displays don’t cause tripping hazards or sometimes sharing the backs of screens for others to use.

But wait! There’s more! After all that, the artist gets to talk and smile and listen to many visitors all day. Everyone wants to tell about their aunt’s next-door neighbor’s kid who loves to draw muscle men and race cars, or a daughter who “needs to do something with her art”. There is a fine line between listening enough to be polite, and getting trapped while potential customers are lost. The vendor can’t lose sight of the fact that she is paying for a temporary store to sell her work, not running a How-To-Be-An-Artist clinic!

One of the most awkward parts of these shows is the way they end. Almost every show contract requires a signature agreeing to stay until the advertised ending time. And, almost every show’s traffic just vanishes about an hour before the end. Unfailingly, there are vendors who pack before the show ends. Often I have found that by staying until the final moments, there are last minute buyers who are grateful to find exhibitors still in place.

When the vendors are about to croak from exhaustion, it is time to box it all up and haul it back to the car. Often it feels as if I am taking more home than I brought, probably because packing on site is much more rushed than packing in the studio. At times, I’ve relied on photos of how it came in the trunk of my car so that I can fit it all back in!

Craft shows are about much more than just selling art. Marketing, exposure, future sales, credibility, visibility and connecting with the public are less tangible aspects but just as important  In addition, participating in shows right here in Three Rivers is a huge social occasion for the producers, vendors and visitors.

South Fork

Maybe March is my favorite month instead of February. It is so green and the redbud are in bloom, along with lupine, poppies and a great variety of other wildflowers. Michael and I drove up South Fork Road, which follows the South Fork of the Kaweah River (hence, the name). Something that always just twists my sense of geography is the clear view of Homer’s Nose from the upper end of that road.

We stopped 4 miles from the end of the road and unloaded our bicycles. It was a long slow pull to the campground, but oh so very pretty.

There were lots of choices.

We stashed our bikes and headed toward the water.

Clough’s Cave is on the other side of the river and used to be open to the public. I had never seen it, and Michael had described its location to me at some time in the past. We followed our noses (and a trail of litter), which led to getting sort of bluffed-up and no cave. We slid back down, thought it out, and found the abandoned trail to the cave. It is slippery with oak leaves and acorns, and several places made me question the wisdom of following it to a closed-off cave. A few cave-wreckers have caused the Park to seal the cave off from the public.

If you climb some rocks and then lie on the ground, this is what is visible. If you turn around, this is what you see:

Lots of textures, snow on the peaks, the canyon winding its way upward, and even a belt of black oaks still without leaves. Tulare County is so large in acreage, so vast in its variety of terrains, with far more to explore than I have days off!

What you want to see

After I got over the thrill of drawing what was really in front of my eyes, I began to want to make better pictures. Real life is messy; artists get to clean it up. It takes practice to draw what isn’t really there, to make up a tree that you didn’t see, to show the edge of the porch that was previously hidden, to work from multiple photos taken from slightly different angles. It is almost impossible to work from photos taken at different times of day from different distances and at different angles. This often requires the skill of a mind reader, and I have learned to say no to some of these requests. But to a certain degree, I can create what we prefer was there.

When someone asks me to draw a house and provides a perfect photo, I have been known to ask why they want a drawing when the photo says it all. The answer is usually that pencil is so beautiful. This is a thrill to my little pencil-loving heart!

Here is the main photo of Farewell Gap again:

Here is a painting in which I scooted things ever so slightly to suit myself.

If you are standing on the bridge at the end of the road in Mineral King, you are probably just in awe of the view. Your brain knows there is a stream underfoot, a cabin sort of close, and Farewell Gap in the distance. Not very many people outside of careful photographers ever realize that there is no place to stand where all three line up for a complete photo! So, when I draw or paint this scene now, I make the necessary adjustments. Until this blog posting, I have never admitted such treachery and deception in recordable form!

And here it is in pencil from 2005 when I really started becoming bold about deceiving the world! (yes, I exaggerate to make a point – try not to get all worked up here!)

What You Really See

As we learn to put on paper what we really see instead of our symbols, it is shocking to learn how much is really there and how it is really shaped or sized. Drawing upside down is one tool; tracing the basic elements and only looking at the tracing instead of the photo is another tool. Another way to simplify what is in front of our eyes is to squint, and the detail fades.

You saw an example of Farewell Gap as it was interpreted by someone who didn’t see or chose to ignore reality. Here is a drawing I did of Farewell Gap a long time ago when I was still bound to photos. It was such a thrill to put on paper exactly what I saw that I didn’t have any interest in editing or creating. I was lost in the joy of “I CAN DO THIS!”

This is not the actual photo from which I worked – 1994 is too long ago for me to be able to put my hands on that exact piece of paper! However, here is the photo of Farewell Gap for comparison purposes:

C Words

Eighth in the series “Thoughtful Thursdays”

(yes a bit out of order – why WordPress didn’t publish this as scheduled is a mystery to me. Why I didn’t notice is perhaps because I was doing other things – I need people for this!)

Two of the most common ways to earn a living in art are consignment and commissions. They are not at all the same, but I am discussing them here in the same article because those two large “c” words are often confused.

Here are the definitions: consignment is an agreement to pay a supplier of goods after the goods are sold. A commission is an order or authorization for the production of a piece of art.

Consignment means that the artist provides the store or gallery with work that is not paid for until a sale is completed. The advantages to the artist are that she doesn’t lose control of her pricing and can reclaim her work if it is needed somewhere else. The disadvantage is that things can become shopworn, keeping track is added work, and sometimes it can be hard to collect one’s money.

Commissions are orders for custom work. This is a very important part of earning a living as an artist, especially in times when people are spending cautiously. The advantages to the artist is that she is almost guaranteed a happy customer, and there is a check waiting at the end of the job. Two disadvantages are that the artist isn’t freely creating from her own ideas and often there is a deadline. Occasionally a commission customer will say these magic words “You’re the professional!” or “No hurry”.

Since we are learning “c” words here, allow me to add one more: conversation. This word means an exchange of words, not orders and not money. Despite repeated experiences with this reality, my greatest talent still remains counting my chickens before they hatch.  For the first several years of my business, I got so excited when someone told me he’d like me to do a specific drawing for him. I was counting eggs, chickens and dollars, forgetting that until money exchanges hands and there are photographs on the table, it was simply CONVERSATION. It never hurts to remember those chats and even follow up with a phone call or an email. That is also part of the business of art.

Colors in Three Rivers sells some of my paintings on consignment.

A lady of great taste commissioned me to paint this apple.

What we think we see

When we are beginning to make art, we depend on symbols more than visual information. The symbols come from our memory, from what we know. The visual information comes from what is in front of our eyes, regardless of what we know. You may know that a table has a round top, but what your eyes are telling you is that it looks like an oval. How can this be?? What do I trust? It takes a leap of faith to ignore what is in your mind and draw what is in front of your eyes. The first time someone tries this and it looks “real! it looks like a photo! I can draw!”, it is a thrill!

At the risk of annoying or offending (always a risk – why are folks so spring-loaded these days??), I want you to see a mural in downtown Visalia. I don’t know who painted it and I don’t know their instructions. I also don’t know their intentions. What I do know is it appears to sort of be Farewell Gap, sort of, maybe, kind of. This is an example of someone looking at a photo and painting from symbols in their heads. Those of you who are spring-loaded in the defensive position may be thinking that the artist(s) were being creative, not bound to the photo, and simply expressing themselves with a derivative work, using the photo for reference, et cetera. That’s fine, but I am trying to show examples here, and this fits, so just take a deep breath and try to follow along.

For comparison, here again is the photograph of Farewell Gap:

Three ways of interpreting

This will be a four parter, and thank you to Bill T. a workshop participant for the idea!

There are 3 ways of seeing when one is making 2 dimensional art. “Interpreting” might be a more accurate term here.

1. What we think we see – When we are children, or when we are untrained adults, we tend to put on paper what we think we see. For example, it is a table, we know it is a table, it has a rectangle and 4 sticks for legs, what is the problem?? The problem is the lack of realism, depth, perspective, proportion and believability. This isn’t a problem if you are 5 years old, but when you begin to understand more of life, it is highly discouraging to realize that your drawing isn’t as great as your Grandma thought.

2. What we really see – As we learn what is really in front of us visually, our work becomes more realistic. We can see distance, and things make sense. One of the tools for achieving this type of accuracy is the simple step of working upside down. No, I don’t mean standing on your head – this doesn’t work for plein air! Turn both your photo and your drawing upside down and the result will first be confusion. Then, your brain will shift into its right-seeing mode (right in both senses of the word), and your shapes will become proportioned correctly.

3. What we wish we could see – One day, we realize that real life isn’t all that grand to look at. Wouldn’t it all look better if we could just edit out the telephone lines, the power poles, the scruffy branches and the garbage cans? In fact, what if we could scoot that mountain over a bit (even without the faith of a mustard seed!) and perhaps reroute that stream? As our skills and confidence grow, we realize we can! “I’m fifty-one and I can do whatever I want! Besides, it’s MY picture!” This obviously has a few shortcomings – there are times when reality has to be recorded, but it is good to recognize the times that we as artists get to do our own arranging.

In conclusion to this introductory explanation, have a look at this photo of Farewell Gap. It will be the basis for illustrating the 3 ways of interpreting what we see.

More Reasons Why I Love February (But It is March)

I’ve often thought it would be good if February had 31 days and August had only 28. If I had my way, today would be February 31! (Yes, I know it says March 4 but it is March 3 when I am posting this) What’s not to love about this fabulous show in Three Rivers??

A Co-op is Not a Coop

Ninth in the series “Thoughtful Thursdays”

What is a co-op? If the hyphen is eliminated, it could be mistaken for a pen of poultry! In this context,  “co-op” is an abbreviation of the word “cooperative” and means a joint venture or collaborative effort.

In an area of few galleries and other places for selling artwork, artists often combine their time, money and art to create their own gallery. Everything is shared – the space, the expenses, the “sitting”, and many many decisions.

It takes a tremendous effort and a bit of luck to put an effective co-op together. The participants need to share a vision, to have approximately the same level of professionalism, and most of all, to have a leader or two, depending on the size. In all groups, there will be those who work their fingers to the bone, those who coast and all sorts in between.

A shared vision has to be addressed before anything else. If some envision a cute store full of unique tchotchkes and others want spacious white walls hung with a few knockout pieces, there will be conflict. If some think it should be open to any and all artists while others believe a certain level of quality should be maintained, there will be conflict. If some never notice dust and spiderwebs while others develop a twitch each time something lands on the countertop, there will be conflict.

There are those who want all types of art, others who only want 2 dimensional pieces. Some think a mix of styles is preferable, others want only representational, and some think that abstract is the only true art.

Regardless of the decisions reached about style, a compatible level of professionalism is necessary for retail success. There can be endless discussions of “art versus craft”, and reaching agreements on quality can almost require Solomon-like wisdom. If some art is clearly made by hobbyists and other is made by highly skilled practitioners, the difference will confuse the customer.

Personalities can make or break a co-op. To combine a large number of opinions in an orderly fashion requires a strong leader with good organizational and delegational (not a word, but you know what I mean, right?) skills. There has to be lists of tasks, assignments, goals and accountability for completion. Meetings need to be kept on subject and participants need to be kept on task, or things result in chaos.

Co-ops tend to be a bit fluid as artists grow and change. With the right mix of artists sharing a vision, a co-operative gallery can be formed for a season, or it can last for years.

These are 2 co-ops I belonged to in the past 2 years. The top one is no longer active; the bottom one is still going, but with a new mix of members than when it began.