Views of "Squiggles and Squares"

Here are views of "Squiggles and Squares," the four-person show I've co-curated at Artworks Gallery in New Bedford, MA. (Photographs are taken by my husband Kevin.) The show is on exhibit until November 2; for more information, please visit www.artworksforyou.org.

Today was our opening reception, and here's the lineup of participating artists (left to right): Elin Noble, me, Adria Arch, and Jeanne Williamson.




Here's the entrance to the charming Artworks Gallery, facing a quaint cobble-stoned street:




This wall holds four pieces from my "Autumn Lines" series:




A view of "Constellation 1," a work on paper by Adria Arch:




Three wall sculptures by Adria Arch, "Soft Serve 2," "Creamsicle," and "Soft Serve 1":




Two pieces from Elin Noble's "Vox Stellarum" series:




Two pieces from Elin Noble's "Lake at Night" series:




Left wall, "The Fence As Lace #1" by Jeanne Williamson / center wall, "The Fence As Lace #2" by Jeanne Williamson / "Blue Glyph Column" by Adria Arch:




Left, "Seasonal Fences - Winter #1" through "#4" by Jeanne Williamson / center, "Blue Glyph Column" by Adria Arch / right, "Strawberry Frost, "Vanilla Frost," and "Lemon Frost" by Catherine Carter:

When rejection comes to town

I’ve written a number of blog entries about the subject of rejection, an issue that artists confront all the time.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but I am coming to view rejection in a more circumspect way than ever before. True, it can hurt your feelings when you’re rejected. It’s only human to look at the folks who were accepted for an opportunity and think, “What have they got that I ain’t got?” (Other typical reactions include beating the table with your fist or digging a spoon deep into a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.)

Last week I was rejected from an exhibition opportunity. Or rather, I experienced the newest version of rejection: “We only contact those who are accepted.” So on notification day, I clicked on my email inbox and heard the crickets chirp. I admit, in my fantasies, I was hoping the juror would take one look at the artwork I had entered, gasp with awe, clutch his throat, and instantly assign me the most visible wall in the gallery. But that didn’t happen.

Surprisingly, though, a realization presented itself to me as I stared at the “Your inbox is empty” message. It occurred to me that REJECTION IS AN OPPORTUNITY. It isn’t meant to hurt you. It is meant to serve as a roadmap for you to follow.

You see, I truly believe that every artist who is sincere about creating work that is an honest reflection of her experience, and who works with reasonable diligence to get this work out into the world, WILL find the right opportunities. The key is to find the RIGHT venues, based on your individual goals as an artist, and where your work fits in naturally and best.

So if you are making human-sized catnip mice out of felt as a statement about animal abuse, there is no sense in applying to show at the gallery inside the frame shop down the street. The frame shop owner might be a devoted cat-lover, and a sincere admirer of your work, but it doesn’t fit into his shop, literally or conceptually, and your application will be “rejected.”

If you are painting watercolors of the roses in your summer garden, there is no sense in applying to the stadium-sized avant-garde exhibition space in town. Not that your work isn’t wonderful -- there are many viewers who would be charmed by it – but your small studies would be lost in that giant space, and would not fit in with that particular gallery’s aesthetic.

I am starting to be truly honest with myself about where my work fits and where it doesn’t fit. And that doesn’t mean it’s bad or wrong for not fitting in to certain venues, it just means that it doesn’t fit, and it’s time to devote my energy to figuring out where it DOES fit. Because when it does fit, there is a beautiful synergy. The work complements the space; the space complements the work; and the administration, the audience, and the artist have a satisfying experience.

My job is to look at my work honestly, do my research thoroughly, and not get hung up on victim-oriented thoughts along the lines of, “He got in, why didn’t I? She shows there, why don’t I?” With these practical actions, and a little faith and luck thrown in, the key in your hand WILL open the right door.

ETA: A friend who also entered the juried show I referred to in this post told me that there were 1,200 entrants!

Early-autumn art jaunt

Yesterday I had a chance to visit my dear friend and fellow painter Alma Cummings, so we could take in some art exhibits in Southcoast Massachusetts. Thankfully the pouring rain of the past few days had blown away, and sparkling sunshine lit our drive to Dedee Shattuck's glorious new (eponymous) gallery in Westport. What a wonderful space! The building and opening of this beautiful gallery is a dream come true for Dedee. It's also a dream come true for the viewer, as she is currently showing a stunning new series by Anne Leone. It's always a magical experience to view Anne's paintings of life-sized swimmers viewed from underwater, but her work finds its perfect display space here. Not only has Dedee hung them slightly above traditional height on the walls, so the swimmers truly appear to be floating in the water, but the brilliant sunshine streaming through the gallery windows highlights the sense of light from above the water's surface. What an exciting experience, to see this particular artwork in this particular space!

After a delicious burrito at No Problemo, Alma and I also visited a group show at the inviting Judith Klein Art Gallery in downtown New Bedford. Here were many wonderful artworks by artist couples who are also Southcoast residents. A wide variety of styles to savor.

A satisfying way to spend a beautiful early-fall day, seeing new art with an old friend. I'll be back to the area next week to hang artwork of my own in an upcoming four-person show at Artworks, also in downtown New Bedford.

What's the opposite of a hoarder?

One way to prove that you're a serious artist is to have a lot of art books. That means you know all about these Way Important People in the Art World who are the subjects of the many books stacked on your shelves. This point was brought home to me when I was flipping through a fall fashion magazine recently and found the following Macy's ad. Now THIS is what a smart art person's wall looks like, right?



Well, I'm going to have to buck the trend. I have always been one of those "less is more" people when it comes to Stuff. Hoarding is supposedly a mental illness; whatever its cause, I am the exact opposite. Whenever I sense that I have too many things, I feel stuck mentally, like my brain is clouded and I can't think or plan any more. But as soon as I take a pile of clothes to Goodwill or a few books to the library's donation room, I feel much freer and able to see how to move forward in my life in general.

So, as opposed to the ad in the picture, I have managed to winnow my books down to the two bookcases pictured below. And frankly, most of these books I don't even look at; either they are books I had when I was a child or they were given to me by someone I love, so I keep them for sentimental reasons. There are a few things I read on a regular basis: biographies or autobiographies of Jack Kerouac, Phil Ochs, Suzanne Farrell and Allegra Kent. I also re-read "Sister Carrie" by Theodore Dreiser and "Maggie, Girl of the Streets" by Stephen Crane. But that's about it. My theory is, I can always look something up on line, or check a book out of the library.

I have to admit, though, my favorite blog is called Yard Sale Bloodbath. I guess I get a vicarious thrill ...

New page showing corporate collections

I just designed this new page of images showing my work in corporate settings, to include in contact applications to art consultants. Pretty spiffy, if I do say so myself! Let's hope it helps net continued success.

The lineup

I’m using my dining room to start lining up all the work I’m intending to take to an upcoming show, and it’s interesting to note that all of the works I’ve made for the past year seem to go so well together. I have developed certain techniques and the use of certain colors as the time has gone by, but my direction has remained the same over this course of time.