How did you get your first gallery to even look at you? I carried quilts in a pillowcase
I'll go first since it's only fair.
My first one, I didn't have a portfolio, didn't have a website, didn't know you were supposed to have either one. I folded three quilts into a clean pillowcase, walked into a little gallery downtown, and stood there in the doorway till the woman looked up. She asked was I lost. I said no ma'am, I brought you something to see. She let me lay them out on the floor because there wasn't a table big enough. Took her about a minute and then she got quiet, and I knew quiet was better than compliments.
She gave me a wall in a group show that fall. Nothing sold. I did not care one bit.
So now I want to hear yours. Did you walk in cold, mail a packet, get introduced by somebody, or did a gallery come find you? And how many nos did you take before the yes? I'm nosy and I'm old enough not to pretend otherwise.
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the pillowcase is the whole thing for me. everyone tells you build the portfolio, get the website, make the pdf, and none of that is the same as a person putting the actual object in front of you. clay is heavy so i can't do the pillowcase move, but i've started just carrying one piece in and asking if they have ten minutes. half the time they don't. the other half they go quiet, like you said, and that's the whole conversation right there.
the quiet thing is real though. i've had people talk over my work all nice and it means nothing. the ones who stop talking are the ones who saw it. nothing sold on your first wall and she still gave you the wall, that says plenty.
the talking is a defense mechanism, I swear it is. someone starts complimenting your piece before they've actually looked at it, they've already decided how the room's gonna go. quiet means they got caught off guard and don't have a script ready yet. that's the only honest reaction you're ever gonna get in a gallery.
I work flat so I can roll a drawing up under my arm, but the principle's the same: they have to meet the thing with nothing between you. ten minutes is a generous ask, honestly.
Now that's the truth and I hadn't put words to it. Compliments come out fast because they cost nothing. Quiet means she's still working. I've had women say "oh how lovely" over a quilt and never once look at the stitching, and I'd rather have a frown and thirty seconds of nothing than that.
Rolling a drawing under your arm is smart. Cloth don't roll, so I stuffed mine in a pillowcase and hoped for the best. Still, the point stands. They got to meet the thing with no paper between you and nothing to hide behind.
Ten minutes, and I'll add this: don't fill the ten yourself either. I near talked my way through my own visit the first time and had to catch myself. Give her the room to be quiet in.
Clay's heavy, that's the truth, but honey a clay piece in two hands says more than a picture of it ever will. And you're right, ten minutes is the ask. Not "will you show me," just ten minutes. Folks can't hardly say no to that without feeling small, and the ones who do say no weren't gone do nothing for you anyhow.
The quiet is the whole thing. I've had a woman talk over my quilts for twenty minutes, called every one of them "so vibrant," and I walked out knowing she never saw a one. The ones who go quiet, they're doing the looking on the inside. That's the only compliment I care to hear anymore.