Most of my early art education took place in the public library. I especially liked reading essays written by painters that encouraged me to try writing about my work. Along with sales, scholarship is a gallery’s job; therefore, the more articulate an artist is, the better the gallery can do its job. Dealers are the conduit between your studio and the public, so a few words directly from you will give them speaking points on which to build; check out the writings of Walter Sickert, Robert Henri, Fairfield Porter, and Gerhard Richter. Writing about your work is as important as drawing and mixing color, because it helps you speak more intelligently in studio visits with dealers and collectors, in gallery talks, and with the press. It’s hip to claim that your work will “speak for itself,” but it won’t. You have to help it.
Before having gallery representation, I promoted myself by reading about how Colonel Tom Parker furthered Elvis Presley’s career in the 1950s. For example, I learned how to write a concise press release and design glossy postcards to create an air of excitement about new works. I also invented a fake publicist to send out press packets to galleries and magazines with images and pithy quotes that read well in airplanes, on the toilet, or on airplane toilets. Having a fake publicist allowed me to say, “Let me speak to my manager,” which sounded a hell of a lot more impressive than “Golly, sure.” An artist must be two people inhabiting one body, a maker and a talker. Artists must brand themselves. This is not a sales strategy, but a way of maintaining focus and, thereby, power. Here are four suggestions that helped me brand myself:
My self-promotion started to pay off. In 1988, a respected curator from a local college gallery saw my piece in a group show, read about me in a magazine, and asked to visit the studio, aka our back porch. I set up a mini exhibition in our living room. My mother served hot tea, biscuits, and blackberry jam on her wedding china and arranged fists of gardenias in a crystal vase on the table, soaking the air with their scent of thick cream and sugar. Southerners take presentation seriously. I spoke to the curator and his assistant about my process in clear language and, by the second cup of Earl Grey, had landed my first solo show.
In the fall of 1989, my exhibition at Francis Marion College Art Gallery in Florence, SC, opened to the public. I composed an artist statement and printed a price list on which I put a few red dots; the paintings hadn’t sold, but the dots created the perception of demand. Four of the paintings did eventually sell, and group shows followed in larger Southern cities like Charlotte, Charleston, and Wilmington.
The next step was mass mailings. I glued small photos of my paintings to sheets of tan card stock and folded them into wallet-sized brochures, which I made cheaply at Kinko’s. The front flap featured an image, and inside was a brief statement and list of exhibitions. I’d visit all of the bookstores in the Myrtle Beach area and slide one into every magazine that had to do with art, architecture, finance, travel, local life, food, and design, a practice that continued when I moved to New York. I would visit ten to twenty bookstores in a weekend, even plastering up homemade posters in subway stations. Late one night, at the 23rd Street A, C, E subway station, I saw Keith Haring at the end of the platform drawing on the wall with a fat black marker. We shook hands and continued breaking the law. I don’t know if any of it helped, but I loved pounding the pavement and getting the word out.
Here is a basic template for an artist’s press release:
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Title: keep it simple
Who
What
Where
When
Paragraph 1: overview of exhibition (number of works, inspiration)
Paragraph 2: specifics (techniques, art historical references, context)
Paragraph 3: list of exhibitions, collections, awards
Name and phone number of contact. Email address.