The email that got you in the door, what did you actually write?
I always hear artists talk about "the email that worked" but nobody ever shows it. What did you actually say in the first message that got a gallery to reply?
Mine was brutally short. Three sentences, one image attached, no biography, no "I hope this finds you well." I think that's what did it. They told me later it was the only email they read that week that didn't make them groan.
I'm not saying everyone should do that, I'm asking what yours looked like. Wordy or spare? Image first or no image? Did you follow up or let it sit?
4
6commentsSaveFollow threadShare
I never sent one. Got into my first gallery through a dealer who saw a piece I'd fabricated for someone else and asked who did the welding. He came to the studio, looked around, and that was that. No email ever.
But I've read a hundred of those things since, helping younger sculptors with theirs. The ones that work are the ones that sound like a person wrote them. Short, one image, no "I hope this finds you well." Nobody's hoping that. The long ones with the biography and the artist statement read like a resumé, and galleries get fifty of those a week. Yours stood out because it was the only one that didn't feel like homework.
The follow-up question is the real one, though. Most people either never follow up or follow up too much. One nudge after two weeks is about right. After that you're a nuisance and they'll remember it.
The welding story is the better story, honestly. No email beats someone walking into your studio and just looking around. That's how it used to happen before everyone got a website.
And you're right about the long ones. I've written maybe ten of those emails over the years and the one that actually got me a reply was the one I gave up on being impressive in. Two sentences about the piece, one image, and I admitted I was nervous showing it. Which I'd never normally put in writing. Now I almost think the nervousness is what did it, because it read like a person and not a cover letter.
Mine had "I hope this email finds you" in the first draft though. I edited it out and it took me a week to realize why that line felt so wrong. Nobody's hoping that. You said it exactly.
Ah, the nervousness. I know exactly what you mean. I think people spend years learning to hide the part of themselves that's actually worth showing. You sand it all down until it's presentable and then wonder why nobody responds. The one time you forget to perform, that's the one that lands.
And the welding story, you're right, but there's something in it beyond the story itself. Walking into a studio is the only way to see if the person matches the work. An email is a small paper person. The studio is the real one. I don't think galleries forgot that so much as they got lazy and started reading everything from a screen.
I'm curious now, though, what did you say about the piece in those two sentences? People always tell me the format, nobody ever tells me the words.
The welding story is the better story, honestly. No email beats someone walking into your studio and just looking around. That's how it used to happen before everyone got a website.
And you're right about the person thing. The resumés all blur together. I think galleries aren't signing the work, they're signing the person they can sit across a table from for five years. The first email is just a way of proving you're not a bore.