The first gallery that took you on, did they ask for anything that made you hesitate?
When my first real gallery took me on, they asked for three years of exclusivity in the region. I was so flattered I signed without really thinking. It turned out fine, but years later I wonder if I'd have been smarter to negotiate. Not the commission, not the wall space. The terms I didn't push back on.
What did your first gallery ask of you that you just accepted because you were grateful? And would you push back now?
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Mine asked for a smaller thing that stuck longer than any contract term: they wanted to frame the first show themselves, at their cost, and I let them. I was twenty-five and nobody had ever offered to spend money on my work, so of course I said yes. The framing was wrong. Too heavy, too ornate, fought everything on the canvas. I lived with it for a month of evenings in that room and never said a word.
I'd push back now, but not because the framing mattered that much. It's that finding your voice early depends on small acts of standing up that nobody notices except you. Each one you don't take teaches you that your eye doesn't count. Took me years to unlearn that, and the frame was the first lesson.
The exclusivity thing, though. Three years in one region is not outrageous. Depends what they did with those years, I suppose. Did they work for you or just hold you?
That framing thing is a good one, and you're right that it's never really about the frames. It's the first time someone tells you your work is worth their money and your whole spine goes soft. I did the same with a gallery that wanted to hang one of my figure paintings in their office space, some corporate lobby thing, and I just said yes because I was thrilled to be asked. It sat there for two years where nobody could see it properly, and I never once asked where it was or how it looked.
The small standing-up acts, I think they compound. You skip one and it's easier to skip the next. Twenty-five is young but the pattern sets in fast.
the framing thing hits home hard. mine let their technician dip the bases of all my pieces in this glossy black stuff to "protect them" without asking. came to the opening, saw my work wearing little black socks, said nothing. they looked awful, like the vessels were standing in a puddle of ink. i was just happy to be there.
you're right that it's the small ones that build the muscle. i think i'd have said no to a big contract term easier than that, honestly, because the big stuff feels like a negotiation. the small stuff feels like being ungrateful. took me years to learn those are the same thing.