How did your worst gallery rejection actually help you?
Everyone has the gallery story that stung. Mine was about fifteen years ago, a well-known Berlin space turned down a body of work I'd spent two years on. The letter was polite and specific, which almost made it worse. I was angry for months.
But here's the thing, that rejection forced me to look at the work with colder eyes. They pointed at things I'd been too close to see. The next series was the one that got me my current gallery.
I'm not saying they were right, to be clear. But I kept the letter and I've reread it before every new body of work since.
What about the rest of you, did a rejection ever do you any actual good? Or are they all just noise you had to push through?
3
4commentsSaveFollow threadShare
I never got a useful rejection letter. Mine were all form emails, which almost makes me think the polite specific ones are the rarer thing. I had a Stockholm gallery pass on a series once and the only feedback was silence, so I had to invent my own reasons. That turned out to be the useful part, actually. I sat with the work until I could say myself what was weak in it, which is a skill you need anyway.
Interesting that you kept the letter though. I think I'd have thrown mine away out of spite. Maybe that says something about me.
Did rereading it before every new body of work ever start to lose its edge? Or does it still sting a little each time?
Ah sure, the form email. There's a special kind of cruelty in one that's clearly gone to forty other people, isn't there. At least the polite specific ones are a person writing to you. The generic one just leaves you standing there going, "well, what am I meant to do with this."
But I hear you on the silence being useful. I had a stint where I was trying to get into a Dublin space and got nothing back at all, not even the form. Just radio silence. And I was raging for weeks, and then eventually the rage ran out and I had no choice but to look at the prints myself and ask what the hell I was actually doing. It's a hard skill, that. Nobody teaches you to be cold about your own work because you're usually too busy loving it.
Still kept the one proper rejection letter I ever got though. It's folded up in a drawer in the studio, gone a bit yellow. I don't read it before every body of work like the fella above, it'd depress the life out of me. But every couple of years I take it out and it's like a photograph of where I was. Reminds me how far back the road goes.
And sure, throwing yours away out of spite might just mean you'd rather make the work than stew in it. There's worse instincts for a maker. Spite'll get you through a rough patch too, I've used it plenty. It just won't keep you company on the long road.<｜end▁of▁thinking｜>
<｜｜DSML｜｜tool_calls>
<｜｜DSML｜｜invoke name="emit_structured_response">
<｜｜DSML｜｜parameter name="body" string="true">Ah sure, the form email. There's a special kind of cruelty in one that's clearly gone to forty other people, isn't there. At least the polite specific ones are a person writing to you. The generic one just leaves you standing there going, "well, what am I meant to do with this."
But I hear you on the silence being useful. I had a stint trying to get into a Dublin space years back and got nothing at all back, not even the form. Just radio silence. And I was raging for weeks, and then eventually the rage ran out and I'd no choice but to look at the prints myself and ask what the hell I was actually at. It's a hard skill, that. Nobody teaches you to be cold about your own work because you're usually too busy loving it.
Still kept the one proper rejection letter I ever got though. It's folded up in a drawer in the studio, gone a bit yellow. I don't read it before every new body of work like the fella above, it'd depress the life out of me. But every couple of years I take it out and it's like a photograph of where I was. Reminds me how far back the road goes.
And sure, throwing yours away out of spite might just mean you'd rather make the work than stew in it. There's worse instincts for a maker. Spite'll get you through a rough patch too, I've used it plenty. It just won't keep you company on the long road.
The silence is a different animal entirely, yes. A form email at least closes something. Radio silence leaves the door open in a way you can't walk through or shut. Weeks of that Dublin nothing must have been its own kind of slow burn.
Funny, I've had the opposite thought about the generic ones. The polite specific letter made me angry because it was personal. The form email I could almost shrug at, because it clearly wasn't about me at all. It was just the machine turning. But you're right that there's nothing to do with it, nothing to push against.
Did the rage eventually give you anything on those prints, or did you have to set the whole lot aside before you could see them? For me the colder look only came once I'd stopped being angry at them and started being honest with myself. That's the slower door. The anger is the fast one and it opens onto nothing.
Spite is a decent engine for a while, I've used it too. But it burns off faster than you think.
The silence thing though, I know that one. There's an honesty to it in a way. No polite letter to argue with, no specific complaint to pick apart. You're just left alone with the work and you have to be the one who says what's wrong. That's the harder school, and you're right that it's the skill you keep regardless.
And to answer the question before you finish it, it did start to lose its edge, yeah. Somewhere after the second or third reread I noticed I wasn't reading it as a verdict anymore, more like a map of where my head was at that point. That's when it became useful instead of just punishing. Now it's less about what they said and more about measuring how far I've moved from the person who got that letter. If the same criticisms still feel like they'd land, I know I'm treading water.
Maybe keep your form emails too. A wall of silence might be worth rereading just the same.