Towards the
end of 2012, I entered into talks with a community music center in San Diego
that had created a program for local artists to display their work to be viewed
with musical accompaniment. An author
friend of mine whom I had met at a local SCBWI event about a year earlier knew
the program coordinator and asked me if I wanted to be considered for a show.
"Uh, YES."
So introductions were passed around and my online portfolio was sent
to them and wall measurements were sent back, and after a while, the slot for
my show rolled around, and my husband (who had just had a hitch installed on
our car so we could tow our bikes around,) happily rented a small uHaul trailer
and some moving blankets, and devised a complicated weight and leverage system
with bungee cords within the trailer for my art to travel in as frictionless an
environment as possible. Computer engineer hubbies are the best!
So we made
an entire weekend of it. Our friends caravanned down with us and got rooms in
the same hotel, and we ate, toured, and hot tubbed together. They even helped
hang the art up and went around buying snacks and drinks for the opening night
party. Not even a flat tire could slow us down (Well, it did actually. A little
bit, so good thing we had multiple cars!)
The party
was deemed a success. Over thirty people came down from Los Angeles for the
opening, and a lot of them had never seen my fine art before. I was glad to
have a chance to share with them another slice of my life. I was touched by the
effort that everyone had put in to support me and my art.
For the two
months that the show ran, I would receive occasional updates from the
coordinators letting me know that people had been asking a lot of questions about
the art and asking for my card. It was definitely strange to be physically far
away from my art. I kept worrying that something bad would happen. None of the
art was damaged, thankfully, though there is a small dent in the frame of one
of the smaller pieces.
Similar to
how I felt prior to my first time participating in the Venice Art Walk, I
experienced some anxiety when facing the prospect of selling all my favorite
pieces. But each time, I come to the conclusion that I would be willing to part
with them for the right price, and I raised the price accordingly for those
pieces. Supply and demand, baby.
Well, once again I found that
though there is limited supply, I’m even more limited on the demand side, so I
was able to bring home all my favorite originals, having sold only prints.
(Still, print sales = yay!)
Considering
that the venue ended up being off the beaten path, and more of a place to bring
your kid for music lessons, I’m not surprised that my fine art did not sell
like hotcakes. Had I known more about the reality of the location as opposed to
their pitch, I probably would have shown more of my children’s illustrations. As
it was, I had created four new print pieces to fit in the hallway through which
most of the children traversed.
We hung them low enough for the kids to see,
hoping they’d ask their parents about it. The added benefit being that I could
conceivably use the pieces in my illustration portfolio. Perhaps I priced them
too high as well, as there was much interest, but very little than actually
resolved into sales.
That said,
it was certainly flattering to have a live musician “jam” to my art for a few
hours in front of my nearest and dearest. One of the best parts: the thrill of
being able to put “Solo Art Show” on my CV.
