I've sent maybe twenty cold emails to galleries over the years. Got three replies. One was a no, one was a "we'll keep you on file" (lol), and one was a studio visit that led absolutely nowhere. So my hit rate is basically zero. but I also know a guy who landed his first solo show by emailing a gallery he'd never been to, just a single image and a sentence. so I can't quite quit them. what about you? ever actually gotten a yes from a cold email, or is it all warm intros and in-person handshakes?
I got my first gallery by walking in off the street with a portfolio case, which today people act like I'm confessing to something embarrassing. But I walked in, asked if I could show the director my work, she had ten minutes between meetings, and she took me on. I know it's not the usual way now, everything is email, submissions, Instagram DMs. But I also know artists who've done it recently and it worked. So I'm asking: did you ever just walk into a gallery cold and get somewhere with it? Or is that completely dead and I'm just old? Me: Lyon, 2008, walked into a small gallery in the 1st, came back three days later with paintings. Stayed with them five years.
I spent years doing the thing everyone tells you to do, posting process videos, engaging in DMs, keeping a content calendar. And last month a friend who runs a small gallery in Turin said "why don't you just write to the people you already know?" So I wrote a very plain email. No newsletter platform, no template. Just an email to 47 people, collectors I'd met at openings, old classmates, two professors, that person who bought a print three years ago and seemed to actually care. I said: I have six new etchings, they're about repetition and failure, here are three images, first come. I sold five prints in two days. Five prints to people I already knew. I spent maybe an hour on the email. I had spent three months on Instagram for the same result, maybe less. The thing is I think we're all performing visibility for an algorithm that doesn't buy art, while the people who actually might are just sitting in our phone contacts, bored of our posts too. I'm not saying burn the platform down. But I am saying I sent 47 emails and it worked better than 3 years of showing up for the feed.
I had a gallery years back that wanted me to sign over rights to the work for the duration of the show. Not reproduction rights, the actual work. If it sold, fine, if it didn't, they kept it. I told them no and never went back. What's the one thing a gallery asked for that made you pack your stuff up?
I'm weirdly superstitious about this but I started writing a short note to every person who buys something from me. Nothing long, like three sentences on a scrap of the same paper I use in collage work. Thank you, something about why I kept that piece around longer than others, hope it finds its wall. It's been maybe four months now. The thing that's getting me is the replies. People write back. Not always, but often enough that it's shifted something. One woman sent me a photo of the piece hung above her dead mother's armchair. Another guy said he'd been having a shit year and the note made him cry which is intense and also definitely not what I was going for but okay. Here's the part I don't know how to think about: it's not scalable. Obviously. So is this just a thing I do while I'm small and then it dies when I can't keep up? Or is the fact that it can't scale actually the whole point, like the size I'm at right now is the size where this works and maybe I should just stay here? I don't have an answer. Just feels like every time I try to "grow" I make something worse, and every time I do something that feels natural and small it actually works.
Been meaning to say this for a while. If you're welding galvanized steel in your studio without proper ventilation, stop. The zinc oxide fumes will give you something called metal fume fever. Feels like the worst flu of your life for about 24 hours. I got it once in my twenties working on a stair railing in a garage with the door half open. Thought I was dying. Called my father thinking it was a heart attack. He told me to drink milk and go to sleep. Actually worked, but I wouldn't recommend the experience. Wear a respirator. Not a dust mask. A proper respirator with the right cartridges. Or grind the galvanization off the weld area first. Takes an extra ten minutes and saves you a day of shaking on the bathroom floor. That's all. Just something nobody warned me about and I keep seeing people skip.
I had a small show at a gallery a few years ago, nice space, good light, they seemed to really believe in the work. And then five weeks passed, not one thing moved. Not even a small print. They didn't promote it, I think, not really. Just put it on the wall and waited. I still wonder if that was on me, my work, my prices, my failure to bring people, or if some galleries just hang things and hope without doing the actual work of selling. Maybe both. Has a gallery ever taken your work and then just... nothing happened? Did you stay with them, or did you leave?
I had a gallery keep two paintings for six months after a group show ended. Not sold, just... sitting there. When I finally pushed for them back, the excuse was the owner had been "reorganising storage." Sure. Worst for me was a gallery in Berlin that closed overnight and I never saw three pieces again. No insurance, no contract worth the paper, just a lesson I should have learned earlier. What's the worst a gallery has ever done with your actual work? Not the rudeness or the slow emails, I mean physically, with the pieces.
So I've been full-time for eight months now which means I've been doing all the "okay so I guess I have to market myself" stuff that nobody prepares you for in art school lol. And the thing that actually worked, the thing that got me my first real gallery relationship, was the most humiliating process ever. I spent a weekend sending 40 cold emails. Like, proper ones, with images and links and a real bio. And I got one reply. ONE. And honestly for like two days I was so embarrassed I almost didn't open it because I assumed it was a no too. But it was a yes. A small gallery in a city I'd never been to, but they liked my work and wanted to talk. That one yes turned into a group show, which turned into two commission requests from people who saw the show, which turned into enough money to pay rent for three months without panic-ordering takeout. Anyway I'm not saying cold emailing is the secret sauce, mostly it's just brutal lol. But I think sometimes we hear about the one reply and not the 39 silences. So here's my question I guess: what's the thing you tried that felt stupid or embarrassing or like it wasn't working, and then it kind of... did?
okay I need to know if this is just me or if this is universal, how did you land your first gallery showing? like the real first one, not the group show your friend curated. I've been sending portfolios out for months and the closest I've gotten is a gallery that was really warm via email for three months, asked for more photos, said they'd "circle back," and then just... stopped replying. I followed up twice and nothing. I don't even know if I should keep emailing them or take the hint. my own answer is honestly embarassing, my first "gallery" thing was a coffee shop that let me hang stuff near the bathroom. which was nice! but I'm trying to level up and I feel like I'm doing something wrong. tell me your first real gallery story, good or bad. did you email? walk in? know someone? I need to know what actually works vs what we're all just guessing at
I love my mom so much, she's my biggest cheerleader, she framed my first shitty little landscape and hung it in the kitchen for years. But she called me today and was like "oh my friend Linda just bought this beige couch and I told her you could paint her something nice to go over it, nothing too weird, you know, something with flowers maybe?" And I just. Stood there holding my phone. Because first of all I haven't painted a floral in two years and I don't want to and second of all the thing I'm actually working on right now is this huge moody piece of my partner's back in low grey light and it's the best thing I've ever done and nobody in my family has seen it because they don't really look at my work they just want me to make things that match their beige couch. I said "I'll think about it" and I won't and now I feel guilty and also annoyed and also like a snob. Why is it so hard for people to understand that "you're so talented, you should paint me something!" is not actually a compliment?? It's like being asked to write a poem for someone's birthday party theme. I don't paint beige couch flowers Linda I'm sorry.
I had a gallery once that said they loved my work but could I please make everything smaller so it would sell better. Smaller prints, smaller paper, fit the customer's wall. I tried it and hated every piece. Felt like I was shrinking the ocean to put it in a cupboard. I said no in the end and we parted ways. Sometimes I wonder if that was stupid. Has anyone else had a gallery ask you to change your work in a way that went against what the work actually is? Did you bend, or did you walk?
There's maybe ten or fifteen minutes every morning where I just sit in the studio with the coffee and look at whatever's on the wall from yesterday. I don't touch anything. I don't think about what to do next, not deliberately. I just let the painting sit there and let myself sit there. It took me years to understand this isn't procrastination. It's the actual work starting, the part where you let the thing tell you what it needs before you go at it again. My wife thinks I'm just staring into space. Maybe I am. But I've ruined more paintings by walking in and going straight at them than any other way. Anyone else have a ritual that looks like doing nothing but isn't?
i don't know why but i literally cannot start throwing or handbuilding unless i've spent like 10 minutes just... touching the clay. like i have to sit there and wedge it a bit, poke it, flatten it, roll it around. my hands have to remember it first. it's not preparation really, it's like a weird ritual. if i skip it and try to go straight to making something, the piece comes out stiff and wrong every time. my grandmother (who is the wisest person i know) once watched me do this and said "clay remembers your hands even when you forget them" and i think about that constantly. today i had a whole plan for a series of little cups with faces pressed into the sides. spent 15 minutes just kneading a lump of terracotta like it owed me money. finally started and now i have five little heads staring at me from the shelf. vale, worth it. anyone else have a stupid little thing you have to do before the work actually starts? or am i just a weirdo with clay dependency issues
okay so there's this window in my apartment that gets this specific soft afternoon light around 3pm and I've been trying to catch it for like... months now. This month alone I've done 14 studies of it. 14. Same window, same view of the neighbor's slightly sad little balcony, different light every time. My partner thinks I've lost it. Maybe I have. But here's the thing – every single time I think I've figured out how to paint that quality of light, the next day it's different and I realize I was wrong. The color temperature shifts, or there's a haze, or the whole thing goes golden for like twenty minutes before it's gone. Watercolor is SO unforgiving about this because you can't just paint over it, you have to get it right while it's wet or you lose it forever. And I keep losing it. My mom called yesterday and asked if I'd sold any of them yet and I was like Mom I can't sell them they're all failures. She didn't get it. But I think there's something in the repetition, you know? Like each one teaches me something the last one couldn't. I'm not chasing a perfect painting, I'm chasing understanding how light actually works. Anyway I laid them all out on the floor last night to compare and honestly it's kind of beautiful seeing them together even if none of them are The One. Might keep going until I run out of paper or winter comes and the light changes completely. Then I guess I'll start over.
I sold a painting last month through my gallery in Paris. 50x65cm, interior scene, took me about six weeks off and on, not full time, I teach, but probably 90 hours of actual brush time. Gallery sold it for €4,800. I get €2,400. So that's €26.66 an hour before materials, before the stretcher, before the二十年 of learning how to make a shadow feel like air. I'm not complaining about the gallery, they have costs, they have a beautiful space in the Marais, they bring clients I can't reach. But I sat there staring at the number and thought, I could clean houses for more. What gets me is we never talk about this when we talk about prices. We say "I sold a piece for X" and it sounds like a victory. But the number that matters is what lands in your hand divided by the hours you actually worked. And if you're honest about it, it's almost always humiliating. I'm not lowering my prices. I'm not raising them either, not yet. I'm just saying it out loud because I think we all pretend the math is better than it is.
third tube this month. they're all fine for like a day then whatever I stuck down just lifts off again. this one says "professional strength" on the side so maybe I'm the problem. got a pile of torn paper and a photograph of my grandmother's kitchen that I've been trying to anchor to a board for a week. it's just floating there. she'd probably laugh. she never threw anything away either, just kept taping it back together. what actually works for paper to wood without turning into a crinkly mess? I've tried mod podge, tacky glue, some spray thing that smelled like death. all disappointing.
Okay so I saw that post about ugly websites converting and it got me thinking because honestly? My own marketing feels like that sometimes. Like, I'm supposed to be this "artist" with a clean brand but my process posts are always so chaotic, sometimes I even accidentally show my dirty mug or a paint smudge on my arm and omg, the engagement on those is SO much higher than the perfectly curated ones. People seem to like seeing the actual work and not just the finished product. It feels super counterintuitive to the whole 'aspirational' vibe that marketing gurus push, but I'm getting more comments and saves on the messy stuff. Anyone else finding that the more you lean into the imperfect, the better things perform? It’s kinda making me want to just dump all my WIPs and sketches everywhere lol.
I've been painting a long time and I still can't explain it, the moment that sharp mineral smell hits my nose my brain just switches into work mode. It's like a Pavlovian trigger. I had a period where I was using odorless mineral spirits because my daughter was small and I was worried about fumes, and I felt like I was working through fog the whole time. Soon as I went back to real turpentine it was like someone turned the lights on. The headaches are real though. I keep my windows open even in January, the neighbours probably think I'm running a laboratory. Does anyone else have this with a material smell? Or am I just a romantic who romanticises his own solvents.
