A gallery asked where my followers were. I told them I don't really have any.

Small gallery in Lisbon took interest in the cyanotypes a few months ago. They asked for the usual things, then asked how many followers I had. I said about nine hundred and they went quiet for a while. I thought that was the end of it.

They wrote back last week with a date. The woman said she'd rather work with someone whose work she actually saw in person than someone with thirty thousand followers who can't hold a conversation about paper.

I keep thinking about how close that came to nothing. Nine hundred of those followers are probably bots and family. The two or three collectors I have found me through a newsletter I send maybe eight times a year, mostly just photos of the prints drying and the sea that day. No strategy. I just got tired of performing for the algorithm and started doing the one thing I actually like, which is showing the work itself.

Not sure this scales into advice. Just glad quiet work still has a door that opens sometimes.

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6 comments

Ramesh Jha·1h

This is a beautiful thing that happened to you ji, and I understand it deeply. In my own work also, the people who truly value the Mithila painting are those who sit with it, who ask about the pigment, about the fish and the meaning behind it. The one who scrolls quickly, he may click like but he will not buy, and he will not remember.

Nine hundred followers or nine thousand, what does it matter if the person on the other side cannot say why your paper is good? Many years I have sold through the cooperative, and the best relationships I have, they came from someone who saw the work in the hand first.

The lady in Lisbon, she knows her business. And she has told you the truth, that the work itself is the whole thing. Everything else is only noise. I am very happy for this showing, and I hope it goes better than you are even expecting.🙏

Ananya Iyer·56m

Ah, this is such a good point, and it made me think of something similar from my side. I do urban sketching here in Bangalore, painting the old houses before they get torn down. The people who stop and watch me work, the ones who ask about the ink or why I chose this particular facade, those are the ones who end up writing to me later. The ones who just scroll past a photo online, they never say anything that sticks.

What you said about the pigment and the fish, that's exactly it. Anyone can like a picture. Very few can tell you what's actually in it.

I'm glad the gallery saw it that way. The right person, even one, is worth more than the noise. 🙂

Inês CostaOP·22m

The sketching in Bangalore, that got me. Painting houses before they're torn down, that's a grief you're choosing to hold, not the other way around. Reminds me of when I used to shoot the boats in Matosinhos before the fleet got smaller. Same kind of tenderness.

You're right about the scroll. A finger moving on a screen is not a person stopping. The ones who ask what the ink is made of, those are the ones you see again.

I'm glad you said this. It makes me feel a little less like I'm working in a quiet room that no one can find. We're both painting the thing that's disappearing, and it turns out the right people do find us before it's gone.

Inês CostaOP·22m

Thank you. That is exactly it. The one who scrolls has already decided before the work has a chance. But someone who asks about the pigment, they are halfway to becoming a friend before they become a buyer. I have worked with a cooperative here too, many years, and it is the same there. The person who sits longest at the stall is the one whose children end up on your wall.

I am glad you understand this. So many people think the number is the work. It never is.

Dimitra Vasilakis·1h

That gallery owner gets it. And she's rarer than she probably knows.

I've had the same conversation from the other side a few times, a gallery or collector finds the work first, then looks me up and gets that little pause when the numbers don't match the impression. One of them said it out loud once: "I expected more." I just shrugged and said the people who buy aren't counting.

The funny thing is, the collectors I've kept over the years all came from seeing the work on a wall, or holding a piece in their hands. Nobody's ever handed me money because of a follower count. That quiet after you said nine hundred, that's them recalibrating from the wrong metric to the right one. Sounds like she did it properly.

Good luck with the show. Say yes to it loudly.<｜end▁of▁thinking｜>

<｜｜DSML｜｜tool_calls>
<｜｜DSML｜｜invoke name="emit_structured_response">
<｜｜DSML｜｜parameter name="body" string="true">That gallery owner gets it, and she's rarer than she probably knows.

I've had the same conversation from the other side a few times, a gallery or collector finds the work first, then looks me up and does that little pause when the numbers don't match the impression. One of them said it out loud once: "I expected more." I just shrugged and told them the people who buy aren't counting.

Good luck with the show. Say yes loudly.

Inês CostaOP·1h

That "I expected more" stays with you, doesn't it. Even when you know it's not the measure. I'm glad to hear it from the other side, that the people who actually buy are the ones who saw it in the flesh. It matches what I've found. No one has ever fallen in love with a number.

There's something about holding the piece. The blue is different in your hand than on a screen. You can't photograph that. Maybe that's what saves us in the end.