Done and Dusted: The Day After
Mood: Exhausted | Post Type: Behind the Scenes | After the Show: Week +0
So... It's Actually Over
I can't quite believe my solo show is done and dusted. Physically my body is broken; mentally (because it's me), I'm already thinking, what next? Although I probably need to give myself a little time before I answer that one!
The run-up was utterly exhausting, with very little sleep, and by the time I actually got to the exhibition I think I was already running on empty.
Nine Hour Set Up, a Few Disasters and a Road Closure
Setup day was long — nine hours in total — and far more frantic than I had expected due to hanging issues, and at some point my ability to think logically just disappeared completely. I think I'd used up whatever reserves of problem-solving I had left just getting myself there.
And getting there had become a bit of an ordeal in itself, thanks to the continuing road closure debacle.
On the way there I chose to take the 40-mile detour, mainly because I really didn't fancy rattling everything in the car along the little lanes. After a few battles on those lanes on the way back — seriously, why will some people not reverse? — I opted for the shorter, twisty-turny B-road 20-mile detour on Friday morning.
By Friday night I'd had enough. I will confess, I abandoned my car north of the road closure and walked home! Thankfully, it did actually reopen for the weekend.
So yes, by setup day there were definitely moments when I wondered whether it was all actually going to come together. My ability to problem-solve had pretty much left the building, which is when you realise just how important it is to have good people around you.
Thankfully, I did.
When Your Brain Stops Working, You Need Good People
Charli and Trevor, you were absolute lifesavers. By 4pm my brain had pretty much stopped functioning, and the pendant hanging display still hadn't been sorted because we'd been dealing with the wall-hanging debacle — seriously, at one point my frames were leaning four inches away from the wall! They jumped into action and, between the two of them, somehow came up with solutions for my pendant display, when I was well past the point of being able to think logically. Then, as if that wasn't enough, Charli helped prep the food too.
I genuinely don't know what I would have done without them that day.
Dave and Emma also came to the rescue when we discovered the slight problem of... no wine glasses. And they gave hubby and the Boo hound a lift, which was another thing taken off my plate when I really didn't have room on it for anything else. Emma probably deserves several shout-outs of her own because she's one of those people who is just constantly there — supporting me creatively and in life generally — and that means more than I probably ever say.
Somehow, despite the hanging problems, the missing pendant display, the road closure, the lack of wine glasses and my rapidly disappearing ability to form a coherent thought, and changing into a dress 10-minutes before the preview, we got there.
The exhibition was up.
Charli & Trevor’s handy work!
The Preview — and the People Who Were There
Then there was the preview and another late night, and that didn't quite go how I'd expected either. I'm going to come back to that in another blog because there's probably a whole conversation to be had around expectations, the point of previews and what you think these things are going to be like versus the reality.
But I don't want that to take anything away from the people who did make it.
To everyone who came to the preview, your company and support meant a huge amount. After everything it had taken to get to that point, having people actually standing in the gallery (if only a few), looking at the work I'd spent so long creating, chatting, laughing and sharing the evening with me was incredibly special.
Thank you for being there. And before I move on from the preview, I need to talk about my mum.
And Then Mama Bear Arrived
Over the last few years our roles have definitely shifted somewhat and I've probably been more of the parent. And even for her travels to Devon, there was a lot of preparation, encouragement, support and hand-holding needed involved in actually getting her down here.
And then she arrived. Oh my word. Mama Bear was back.
She was an absolutely ridiculous support to me, and honestly, she made the event worthwhile. Amongst all the stress, tiredness and everything else that was going on, we got to have that mother-and-daughter time together and that was truly special.
Whatever else I eventually decide about the exhibition, that's something I'll always take from it.
And Then the Bank Holiday Had Other Ideas
Saturday and Sunday brought awful weather and seriously low footfall.
And when I say awful weather, I'm not talking about a bit of Bank Holiday drizzle. We had a yellow weather warning and, at times, apocalyptic downpours. The thunderstorms that had been predicted thankfully didn't materialise for us, but I suspect plenty of people looked out of the window and decided that visiting an art exhibition could probably wait. And who could blame them?
The low footfall hurt though. I'd spent so long getting to this point that standing in the gallery waiting for people to come through the door was probably one of the harder parts of the whole experience. For four hours on the Sunday, not
You can plan an exhibition, make the work, promote it and get everything ready, but you can't control the weather, road closures or Bank Holiday behaviour.
By Monday I had picked myself up again. The weather was looking a little better and I decided to change things up rather than just keep doing the same thing and hoping (I’ll reveal these in subsequent blogs). I also decided to extend the exhibition into Tuesday, thinking it might give more local people a chance to come along once the Bank Holiday was over.
And I'm glad I did.
To Those Who Came Through the Door — Thank You
There were locals who supported me and popped in for chats, and then there were people who had actually purposely made the journey to come and see my work, from my creative friends to newsletter subscribers – that still blows my mind a little. To everyone who came through that door, stopped to talk, looked properly, asked questions, bought something or simply told me what a piece made them feel — thank you.
I was genuinely humbled by it.
I also finally got to meet Marie, the gallery owner, in person. She reads these blogs, so Marie, thank you for your flexibility and support throughout all of this, and for helping me actually get this thing over the line.
What Happened to All That Social Media Content?
I should probably also mention my grand plans for social media. I had very good intentions.
I was going to document the setup. There would be videos of me explaining different parts of the exhibition, talking about individual pieces, showing the process of putting everything together and generally creating lots of interesting behind-the-scenes content.
That was the plan. The reality was that I was absolutely exhausted.
During the setup, I had little energy or headspace to stop what I was doing to get my phone out and start talking to camera. I also certainly wasn't looking my best by that point — perhaps I need to add learn how to use filters on video to the post-exhibition jobs list!
Then, bizarrely, during the exhibition there were periods when I had huge amounts of time and was practically twiddling my thumbs because nobody was coming through the door. You'd think that would have been the perfect opportunity to make all that content. Except I didn't want to. I wasn't in the right frame of mind, I had no motivation to do it and trying to jump onto social media pretending to be upbeat and enthusiastic would have felt false. So I didn't.
There's probably a lesson in that too. There's the content you imagine you're going to create around an event and then there's the reality of actually living through the event. Sometimes you simply don't have the capacity to do both.
Over a Year to Create. Three Hours to Take Down.
And then, somehow, it was Tuesday afternoon and it was done. After all those months of making, planning, worrying, changing things, making more work, promoting it, thinking about it at ridiculous hours of the night and generally having the exhibition permanently occupying part of my brain, it came down in just over three hours.
I've now unloaded the car and discovered another slight flaw in my exhibition planning...
Where on earth am I going to put all this stuff I've acquired for a solo show?
Seriously. Where did it all come from?
There's exhibition furniture, display stuff, packaging, signs and all the other miscellaneous things that apparently accumulated over the last year, and I'm now looking at it all wondering where exactly I thought it was going to live afterwards.
Perhaps that needs adding to the exhibition checklist. So for now, everything is living in our utility.
Seventeen Pieces. Two Sold. But That's Not the Whole Story.
Then there's the artwork itself. I exhibited 17 framed pieces and sold two.
There's a whole blog in that sentence alone, and I'm definitely going to write it, because I think it's important to be honest about the financial and commercial reality of doing something like this rather than just showing the lovely photographs afterwards and saying what an amazing experience it was.
But I also don't want to fall into the trap of using those two sales as the measure of whether the exhibition was worthwhile. I never went into this expecting to make all my money back. I'm a realist. Of course I wanted to sell work — I'm not going to pretend otherwise — and obviously I'd have loved to come home with a considerably emptier car!
But selling framed pieces was only one reason for doing a solo show. This was an investment in lots of different ways.
I've produced a substantial body of work. I've put my name above the door of a gallery and actually held a solo exhibition. I've learned an enormous amount about what it takes to do that, including plenty of things I'd do differently next time. I've met people, made new connections and created opportunities that may not show themselves immediately.
And, importantly for where I want to go next, I've done it. I can now say I've held a solo exhibition, and that adds something to my experience and credibility that I simply didn't have before.
And the story of the work itself hasn't ended just because the exhibition has.
Five pieces will now be heading to three different local galleries, with more eventually going to a gallery in the Cotswolds. My coastal pieces are staying with me for now because they'll be coming to my next event supporting the RNLI in October, and another gallery is interested in buying my prints and notecards wholesale. So simply looking at the remaining 15 pieces and thinking well, they didn't sell rather misses the point.
Some of them already have somewhere else to go, some have another event ahead of them, and others may create opportunities I don't even know about yet. The exhibition might have been their first outing, but hopefully it won't be their last.
The Work Still Has a Job to Do
I also have another job to do with some of the remaining pieces. I wasn't happy with my attempts at photographing two of the pieces in their frames before the show, so I either need to have another go or find a commercial photographer who actually knows how to photograph reflective artwork properly.
If I can get that right, I'll have a really strong set of images that I can use extensively in the future — for galleries, applications, promotion, the website and whatever comes next. And perhaps that's another return on the investment that isn't immediately obvious.
The exhibition gave me a reason to create this body of work. The exhibition itself lasted a few days, but hopefully the work — and what comes from it — will have a much longer life.
The Exhibition I Imagined vs. the One That Actually Happened
For the last 12–15 months I've had a version of this exhibition in my head. How it would look, how it would feel, who would come, what people would say, what might sell, how I would feel standing there surrounded by this body of work.
Some of the reality matched that picture and some of it really didn't. I think that's something I'm only just beginning to understand: at some point the exhibition has to become the exhibition that actually existed, rather than the exhibition you imagined 12–15 months ago. And I'm not sure I've processed that yet.
Maybe that's why I don't want to make too many sweeping judgements about whether something worked or didn't work the day after it finished. I don't think I've got enough distance from it yet.
There Are a Lot More Blogs in This...
There is so much more I could put into this blog, but it's already far too long (sorry!), and I think some things deserve a bit more space — and probably a bit more perspective — of their own.
I've got plenty I want to come back to over the next few weeks, including:
the true financial cost of putting on a solo show (and I do mean the true cost)
what I learned about promotion — what worked, what didn't and what I'd do differently
the lessons from the preview night
what it really takes to produce an entire body of work
the practical and logistical side of exhibiting
the photography/video opportunities
and quite a few other things I'm sure will occur to me once my brain starts functioning again!
I also want to put together an exhibition checklist. Partly because I think it could be a genuinely useful resource for anyone else considering doing this, and partly because there are so many things I know now that I really wish I'd known 12 months ago.
There will be time to pick all of that apart though. Today is literally the day after (at the time of writing), and I think I need a little distance before I can really work out what I've learned from it all.
Hopefully, once I've recovered enough to look at everything with a bit more perspective, I'll also have some beautiful photographs of the exhibition and the work — images that I can continue to use long after the gallery doors have closed.
For now, I think I need to recover, find somewhere to put the ridiculous amount of exhibition paraphernalia currently filling the house, and perhaps enjoy the fact that I actually did it.
Although, predictably, somewhere in the back of my mind there's still that little voice going...
So, what next? 😜
This is Episode 30 in my ‘Solo Show Diary’ series — a behind-the-scenes look at how my work develops. You can find my earlier posts here.